"What are you talking about, Centipede?" Miss Spider asked.
"Yeah, what's all this poppycock about James being suspended?" Mr. Earthworm demanded.
"I got a call from Jimmy's school today," Mr. Centipede said, his eyes glittering, still locked on Mr. Grasshopper. The insect didn't move, his instincts assuring him that if he didn't, the predator wouldn't see him. "That principal said he called Grasshopper. And he said other stuff, too."
Mr. Centipede took a step closer. Mr. Grasshopper stayed completely still. The cephalopod crossed several pairs of arms and stared hard at the grasshopper. The others were bewildered by the news, but they didn't have time to take it in before Mr. Centipede began to speak again.
"Why didn't you tell 'em he was suspended, leaf-eater?"
Mr. Grasshopper took several moments to find his voice. He spoke stiffly as he replied. "We were going to tell you after dinner."
"Wait, what?" Mr. Earthworm yelped. "He isn't kidding? James got into a fight? He really is suspended?"
"Not our James, surely!" Miss Spider exclaimed.
"There must be a mistake," Glowworm said.
Mr. Centipede had eyes only for Mr. Grasshopper. "Were you going to tell us?"
Mr. Grasshopper was offended. "Of course I was, scavenger," he spat.
"No need for name-calling," Mrs. Ladybug said. She was ignored.
"Well, that's awful funny," Mr. Centipede said acidly. "Cuz I know for a fact there's other stuff you haven't told us, too."
Mr. Grasshopper swallowed and shifted backward. "Like what?" he challenged.
"Like the fact that Jimmy didn't fall out of a tree at the beginning of summer."
Mr. Grasshopper winced and Mrs. Ladybug puffed up. "Then what happened?"
"Turns out some kid broke his wrist. And you knew, didn't you? You knew and you lied to us about it."
"So what?" Mr. Grasshopper asked, his voice clipped. Panic was in his face and his lower right arm came up to cradle his side subconsciously. Nobody noticed as betrayal flashed across their expressions.
"I beg your bloody pardon!" Mrs. Ladybug screeched. She turned on Mr. Grasshopper. "You lied?!"
"James didn't want to tell you." Mr. Grasshopper didn't look at Mrs. Ladybug.
"That wasn't your call to make, pest!" Mr. Centipede snarled.
"I am not a pest!" Mr. Grasshopper snapped
There was a loud crack as James's door burst open and he bolted into the living room, all color drained from his face. He stopped and took in the scene. Mr. Grasshopper was crouched a bit, his lower right hand hovering protectively over his scar. Mr. Centipede towered over him, his expression so fiercely angry that it reminded James of his aunts. The others were gazing between the two bugs as if unsure of what to do or say or whose side to take. Though James had been about to shout for them to stop fighting, he froze and became as paralyzed as Mr. Grasshopper. He sank into vivid memories as he watched a new one unfold before him.
"So you haven't been taking James to Booker Freedman for boxing lessons ever since you got back from the concert tours?" Mr. Centipede challenged.
"So what if I have?" Mr. Grasshopper demanded, his voice pitched higher than normal as he fought back the terror of being backed into a corner. "You never asked where we were going, none of you! I didn't lie about that!"
"That ain't the point!" Mr. Centipede boomed. "You're paying for our sweet Jimmy to become a thug!"
"That's not true!" Mr. Grasshopper shouted.
"He broke a kid's nose, Grasshopper!" Mr. Centipede roared. "And you're so damned proud of it that the principal noticed! No punishment for James even though you expected this to happen! You're turning him into a delinquent!"
"You don't have the whole story!" Mr. Grasshopper protested.
"By all means, explain why you're encouraging Jimmy to fight people! I'm sure we'd all like to hear the reason!"
Though his instincts screamed for him to be honest to lessen the threat, Mr. Grasshopper didn't give in to the demand. "James will tell you himself when he's damn well ready!"
"If there was something to tell, Jimmy would have told us already! He don't keep secrets from us like you do, lawn-muncher!"
Mr. Centipede stalked forward, looking more predatory than ever. Mr. Grasshopper trailed every move, his thoughts becoming less human as his instincts took over. He backed up until he bumped into the wall, his breathing shallow and quick. He could see no way away from the predator before him. Just like with Gary, he was helpless.
"How could you do this, Grasshopper?" Mr. Centipede bellowed. "How could you turn Jimmy into a hooligan?"
The words no longer registered as words in Mr. Grasshopper's brain. All of his focus was on surviving the encounter. He swallowed again and again, harder and harder as he tried to focus.
"Are you listening to me?" Mr. Centipede demanded. When he got no response, he snarled, a low, grating, animalistic noise, then stepped forward and shoved him with several pairs of hands. "Listen to me, damn you!"
Pain lanced up Mr. Grasshopper's side, a pain so familiar and blinding that he lost all awareness of his human senses. The world shrank down to nothing but the blinding pain and his natural senses. A high, primal shriek like nothing they'd ever heard before erupted from his mouth, ringing through the house. There was no misunderstanding the sound, and the bugs suddenly took in Mr. Grasshopper's posture and expression. They knew at once that something was deathly wrong, and even Mr. Centipede was shocked out of his rage. Then he smelled the unmistakable scent of blood.
"What happened?" he asked frantically. "Are you okay?"
Mr. Grasshopper looked up and the bugs saw only an insect behind his eyes, not a drop of the human soul he'd been granted remaining. When Mr. Centipede stepped forward to help, Mr. Grasshopper reacted with another terrified chirrup. Then, without any other warning, he threw up violently all over Mr. Centipede. The cephalopod screamed and stumbled backward, swearing as he gagged. Mr. Grasshopper was crouched against the wall, a smidge of his humanity returning as he clapped three hands over his mouth in horror and trembled so hard that he rattled. The shriek had morphed into distressed clicking and chirrups as he huddled there.
"What's going on?" Mr. Earthworm demanded.
"Mr. Grasshopper?" Mr. Centipede asked. He tried to approach again.
Mr. Grasshopper was still more primal than human, and he let out another wailing cry of fright before hopping over Mr. Centipede. The door had been slammed so hard when Mr. Centipede came in that it hadn't latched, and Mr. Grasshopper clawed it open and bounded out into the night.
"Hey! Wait! Don't go out there like this!" Mr. Centipede yelped.
Before he could follow, he noticed James standing there, his face white and his eyes bright with anger. "Why did you do that?" the boy rasped. "Mr. Centipede, why did you do that?"
"The fight… and the lessons…" he said blankly, unable to process how they'd gotten to this point.
"The boy whose nose I broke was the boy who broke my wrist, Mr. Centipede!" James exclaimed. "He was bullying me and wouldn't leave me alone! So Mr. Grasshopper's friend started to teach me boxing and then introduced us to Mr. Freedman so that he wouldn't hurt me anymore!"
There was a long silence. James swiped at his cheeks and glared at Mr. Centipede.
"And I do have secrets! Like this!" He jerked his sleeve up to reveal his round pink scars. "I don't wear short sleeves because of the cigarette scars I have! My aunts would punish me with lit cigarettes! I never told you that either! I never told you anything about what my aunts did! And you have no right to get angry at him for another one of my stupid mistakes! I should have told you about Thomas. I should have told you that I was taking boxing lessons. But I was ashamed. And we were going to tell you about the fight after dinner. Because it's true. I got into a fight! I broke his nose!"
James was shaking with anger, gulping in air. "And I'm glad!" he said, stomping his foot. "I'm glad I got into a fight! Because Thomas won't be bullying me anymore!" He paused and looked at Mr. Centipede, tears streaming down his face. "I don't like bullies, Mr. Centipede," he said brokenly. "And I thought you were better than that."
With that, James spun on his heel and ran out the door, calling for Mr. Grasshopper. There was a long silence as the bugs tried to process what had just happened. Mr. Centipede looked around at the others, who looked as shellshocked as he felt. Tears filled Mr. Centipede's eyes and he swallowed.
"I just made it worse. Again," he croaked.
Nobody answered him. "We've got to find him," Mrs. Ladybug fretted.
"What happened?" Mr. Earthworm demanded. "I smell blood. And something horrid."
"It's supposed to be horrid," Mr. Centipede said. "He threw up on me."
"Now why would he do that?" Mr. Earthworm asked.
"Because he probably felt like I was going to eat him," Mr. Centipede muttered. There was a pained silence as they recognized that this was probably true. The cephalopod looked down at himself. "I'll get changed. We gotta find him. He ain't in a good state of mind to be around humans."
"I'll light up the way," Glowworm said.
They hurried to get ready as fast as possible, glancing at the door where Mr. Grasshopper and James had disappeared. They wondered where he'd gotten to and hoped he was still in the park.
As soon as the old grasshopper could sense the open sky above him, he'd taken several great bounds into the park before staggering behind some bushes. It wouldn't help, though. He could smell his own blood, and he knew death would follow as soon as the predator caught up. He was being hunted, and it was only a matter of time before he was caught. He needed to get away, but the pain was absolutely blinding. He couldn't run any further.
Falling to the grass, Mr. Grasshopper curled up and clutched at the pain in his side. As he lay there, he faded in and out of human consciousness. It didn't help that he could hear his brothers starting their nightly serenades, and he ached for a simpler time. It was a blessing from the Maker, but at that moment it felt like a curse. He wept as he longed for the pain to go away, not just on the outside but the inside, too. Frightened and in pain, he lay there, torn between animal and human states and terrified he'd never find a balance again.
A cool, soft hand touched him, and he let out a chirrup of fear. His entire body tensed as he tried to bound away, but the movement was too much, and he dropped, whimpering. Then a familiar voice spoke and pulled him back toward humanity.
"It's alright, Mr. Grasshopper. It's just me," James said gently.
Mr. Grasshopper tried to speak, but it came out in his native tongue. He tried again. "James…" he rasped. "It hurts, James. So very badly.
"What's wrong?" James asked.
Mr. Grasshopper shifted and lifted his four hands off of a large green stain on his shirt. James leaned down and stared at it.
"What is it?"
"I'm bleeding," Mr. Grasshopper murmured.
"Your scar," James hissed. "He punctured your scar."
Mr. Grasshopper pressed his hands onto the stain again and shuddered. "I'm afraid so. I need help… please…"
"I could get Mrs. Ladybug. She could help," James suggested.
"No!" Mr. Grasshopper gasped. "Oh, please no! I can't. Not after what just happened. Please…"
James understood and nodded. "Okay then. Who should I contact?"
"I don't know," Mr. Grasshopper whimpered. "I can't think."
James thought for a moment then stood up. "I have an idea. Wait right here. Try not to leave."
"Okay."
He heard James run off before the night noises came back into focus. There was the faint sound of traffic and cars, but around the old grasshopper, his brothers began to chirrup again. It soothed him as he listened to a rhythm as familiar and ancient as creation itself. Some unknown time later, they suddenly quieted and there were quick footsteps.
"Oh, crap," a man said.
"Who's there?" Mr. Grasshopper rasped.
"It's alright, Mr. Grasshopper. I got some help," James said. "It's Oliver."
"What happened?" Oliver asked.
"I'll explain later. We have to get him inside. He's not well," James said.
"Go and get anything he needs and bring it to my car," Oliver ordered. "Come on, Mr. Grasshopper. Up we go."
Mr. Grasshopper groaned as he was helped up, but he managed to stay on his feet. He staggered with Oliver for what felt like miles before he was settled into the backseat of a car.
"Lay down," Oliver said.
The door shut and another brief eternity passed before the front door opened.
"I think this is all he'll need," James was saying.
"Okay then. You get back home. He can stay with me for as long as he needs to."
"Take care of him. I'll see you later, Mr. Grasshopper."
Oliver climbed into the front seat and started the car. James stood back and watched. When the car was gone, he turned and hurried back home. By the time he got back, the bugs had returned from their search. They were talking frantically, but they cut off when James shut the door.
"James! Did you find him?" Miss Spider asked.
"Yes," James said shortly.
"Take us to him," Mr. Centipede said.
"I can't. Oliver took him to his house. I don't know where he lives."
"Wait, what?" Mr. Centipede couldn't register what the boy had just said. "When's he coming back?"
"Oh, he's not," James said coolly. "Surely you don't expect him to after what you did." He looked around then walked toward his room. "I'm not hungry, so I'm going to bed. Goodnight."
The door shut behind him, and the bugs stood very still. Mr. Centipede sat down and took his hat off. Nobody talked to him as they slowly began to split up to think about what had just happened. Glowworm went to work, and Miss Spider cleaned up the kitchen while Mr. Centipede stared at nothing. She finally pattered over to him and took one of his hands. He looked over then scrubbed the tears off his face.
He sniffled miserably. "I've messed everything up."
"All is not lost."
"He thought I was going to eat him," Mr. Centipede groaned, and more tears fell. He looked away in embarrassment. "How can we recover from that? What can I do, Spider?"
"What you do best," Miss Spider replied kindly. "Pick a course of action, then stick to it."
"But what course should I go?"
"That is something you must choose yourself, Centipede. Now, get some rest. We know he is safe."
Mr. Centipede wasn't so sure about that, but he headed to his bedroom. He resolved to stay up as late as he had to in order to figure out just what he could do to fix the giant mess he'd made. He'd rather face the cloud men again than face what he'd done, but he would do it for the family.