Chapter 4: 'He,' Who?
Jeff awoke, stretched his arms above his head, and sat up in his hammock as his mates approached. He yawned, but stopped partway through it and let his mouth hang open comedically when they got close. "Whoa! Why are you all wet?" he asked them. "And where is Anthony's shirt?" Greg briefly held up the handful of blue fabric that he'd rescued from the surf. Jeff's eyes went wide when he caught sight of the swollen red mass covering the Blue Wiggle from behind. "What on earth happened to Anthony's back?" he demanded to know. He stared at the reader in all seriousness. "I need to stop falling asleep and missing out on everything," he decided.
"We'll fill you in soon, Jeff," Murray informed their sleepy friend. He hurried through Flora Door, calling over his shoulder, "First, we need to take care of Anthony!" He returned shortly with supplies. To the Blue Wiggle he handed some pills, along with a glass of water. "Here, take these," he urged their drummer. "They should help with the pain." Anthony swallowed the medicine down without complaint. Next, Murray uncoiled the hose from its place next to the house, and held up a mildly soapy cloth. "We've got to wash off those stings," he explained. "Then you can get out of your wet clothes." Anthony looked up at him in trepidation, but nodded his silent assent. Murray cleaned the welts as gently as possible. Anthony had his eyes and mouth shut tightly against the pain. He was brave and didn't make a sound, although he was trembling, his breathing shaky. Murray let the hose trickle water over him as he shivered. "Sorry it's cold," the Red Wiggle apologized in a murmur. "But the cold should help with the swelling, as well." He finished rinsing the area, after which Jeff helped out by twisting the valve to shut off the water.
"Shouldn't you all change your wet things?" he suggested.
Greg nodded. "Good idea, Jeff. C'mon, guys, let's get dried off." The four of them went inside, where the three wet Wiggles got out of their dripping clothes and squishy shoes. Murray and Greg put on fresh skivvies and slacks, and emerged from their bedrooms rubbing their hair with towels. Greg's was lemon-yellow, while Murray's was fire-engine red. They looked around for their other two friends and, not seeing them, trailed over to Anthony's bedroom. The door was open. Inside, Anthony sat on his bed. Jeff sat next to him, simply keeping him silent company. Anthony had put on dry pants, and like Murray and Greg, remained barefoot while waiting for his shoes to dry out. He hadn't replaced his shirt, since the wasp stings were still too painful. Murray disappeared briefly and returned holding a potted plant that stuck its blade-like leaves up into the air. "Anthony, this is an aloe vera plant," he explained. He sat down on the Blue Wiggle's other side and tore off several of the leaves with their sawtooth edges. "It produces a healing gel inside." He squeezed one of the leaves till it released its balm. The pungent smell filled the air. He held the juice cupped in one hand.
"I think I know where this is going," guessed Anthony heavily. "You want to put it on the stings." He gripped his knees with his hands till his knuckles turned white.
Murray nodded. "That's right," he confirmed with a slight smile. "Now, it won't feel so nice while I put it on. But afterwards, it should soothe the rash, and help you feel better."
Anthony puffed out his cheeks with a lusty sigh. But he leaned forward obligingly, elbows propped on his knees. "All right—go on, then," he agreed, setting his jaw.
"Right. Sorry if it smarts a little," the guitarist warned him as he applied the healing gel below the drummer's neck.
Anthony gasped, eyes shut tightly. Through gritted teeth, he hissed, "It burns!"
"Sorry, mate—I'll be as quick as I can," Murray assured him. One by one,the lead guitarist stripped each fleshy leaf of its contents and smeared it liberally over the countless wasp stings, methodically working his way down Anthony's back. The other band members looked on, biting their lower lips. The Blue Wiggle whimpered throughout his unwanted massage, but didn't complain.
On impulse, Jeff hopped off the bed and knelt before his old friend. He grabbed Anthony's hands and held them tightly.
"You're doing well," he encouraged the drummer, who was trembling again. "That's it. You're almost done!"
The Blue Wiggle leaned lower and lower, until his face was pushed into his lap. He let out a long moan of pain, as though begging for the treatment to end. At long last, Murray announced, "There. Finished." He took out a bandage of Wiggle proportions, bigger than any of them had ever seen, and fastened it down gently over Anthony's rash. Sitting back to survey his work, he nodded in satisfaction. Jeff remained by their injured mate while Anthony regained his composure. He took a last deep, bracing breath, then threw himself down onto the bed on his stomach.
"I don't feel very good," he admitted in a small voice.
"I should say not," Greg agreed, with a humorless chuckle. "You just got about thirty zillion wasp stings."
"It's not that," Anthony answered in a faraway voice, almostas though talking to himself. He had buried his face in his pillow. "I can't do this anymore. I'm…scared."
"Scared?" Jeff repeated in a scared tone of voice.
"What are you afraid of, Anthony?" Murray asked softly, sinking down to sit next to his friend.
"I don't want to get stung again. Or bitten by ants. Or whipped by cockleburs…" Anthony told them, voice muffled by his pillow. The Red and Purple Wiggles regarded one another in uncertainty. Greg had a baffled look on his face, trying to work out his mate's meaning.
"But those things were all accidents," Murray pointed out. Anthony rolled his head to the side so that he could look at them. Something about the apprehension on his face made Murray pause. "They were accidents, weren't they?" he asked finally.
Anthony looked as though he were steeling his nerves. "No," he whispered.
"What do you mean?" Jeff asked, confused. "You did them to yourself on purpose?"
Anthony shook his head. He pushed himself up to sit on the side of the bed beside his red friend, his legs dangling. "No," he said again. "He did."
"'He,' who?" asked Greg in suspicion.
"I don't know his name," Anthony mumbled. "But he's had it in for me for weeks now. He took all my groceries, too. And the art supplies. And the roses I was going to give to Dorothy," he finished plaintively, looking guilty. His friends, however, were more concerned about their blue mate, than about the confiscated goods.
"Are you saying that he's been bullying you for more than a month?" Jeff cried in astonishment. Anthony grimaced and nodded.
"And all these strange things happening to you as you were coming home—they were because of him?" Murray asked for confirmation. Another nod of assent came from Anthony.
"So, when you said you got whipped by cockleburs…you weren't joking," Greg slowly realized out loud. "Then, the rose thorns…?"
"He pushed me into a rose bush," affirmed Anthony in a mutter.
"That's terrible!" the Red Wiggle cried in consternation. "But," he wondered, "what about the ants?"
"He kicked down an ant mound," Anthony explained in a voice so low they had to lean closer to hear him. "Then…he made me sit on it…till he said I could go." He squirmed at the unpleasant memory.
"What?" Greg roared, unable to believe his ears.
"And the wasps?" Jeff wondered in a hushed tone, as though afraid to know the answer.
"He had them trapped in a jar," Anthony went on, his voice barely audible. "Then he dumped them down the back of my skivvy." Jeff clapped his hand over his mouth in horror, eyes bugging out.
"And you let him?" Greg's bellow was incredulous. "You just let him do all that to you? Why?!"
"Because he knows about you guys!" Anthony burst out. He sounded close to tears. Face twisted with pain, he went on, "He knows all about you—your colors, your names, everything. He knows where we live. And he said if I fought back at all, he'd come for you, too." He buried his face in his hands, hunched in defeat. "I didn't know what to do," he told his friends, his voice cracking with emotion. He gripped his bangs hard, as though angry with himself.
The other Wiggles stared at one another, dazed by the information at last revealed to them. Greg started pacing like a big cat in a cage. "I don't believe this!" he kept repeating to himself under his breath. His face had a ferocious scowl.
Jeff rose from where he'd been sitting on the floor and plopped down on the bed next to their drummer. He still couldn't think of what to say, but let his actions speak for him as he put his hand on his friend's shoulder. Murray hesitated, then spoke for them all.
"I'm so sorry for all that's happened, mate," he apologized gently. "All this time, you were in trouble—and we had no idea. You must've been so scared…" Anthony nodded miserably. Though his hands were still over his face, he spread out his fingers a little so he could peek out at Murray as he continued talking. "Yeah, but even though you were frightened in your heart," Murray said, pausing to tap the Blue Wiggle's chest, "you were still brave in your actions. You never complained once. Even with all the terrible things he did to you," murmured Murray. His poignant gaze met their blue friend's eyes through the chink in Anthony's fingers."You took that abuse, so that you might protect us. You suffered so much, to try to keep us safe." Deeply touched by their mate's sacrifice, the Red Wiggle put his arm around Anthony's neck and hugged him, careful not to touch any of the many recent injuries he'd sustained for his friends' sake. The Blue Wiggle leaned against him, basking in the affection which had been sorely lacking in his life of late. His shirtless frame shuddered with weeks' worth of pent-up emotion. Murray squeezed him harder. Jeff's hand remained loyally on his shoulder. They sat like that for a long moment. It had been so long since Anthony felt safe. He wanted to soak the feeling in.
At last, the Wiggles' drummer spoke. Anxiously, he asked his mates, "What if he finds out I told you? He warned me not to squeal on him—or else." The Blue Wiggle moaned aloud. "Ohhh. Maybe I shouldn't have said anything…"
"No—you did the right thing by telling us, mate!" Murray reassured him with feeling. He held Anthony at arm's length to look into the Blue Wiggle's blue eyes. His expression was earnest. "The only thing you did wrong, was waiting so long to talk to us about it. You should've come to us right away!"
Greg spoke up for the first time in a while. "You need to introduce us to this enemy of yours." He cracked the knuckles of one hand against the palm of the other. "After all, any enemy of Anthony's, is an enemy of all the Wiggles," he declared.
"Too right!" exclaimed Jeff in agreement.
"No way he messes with our mate, and gets away with it!" growled the Yellow Wiggle. He slammed his fist angrily against Anthony's blue bedroom wall. "He's going to regret coming after you," he vowed in a dark voice. "We'll pay him back in spades for everything he did!"
Hearing the ferocity of Greg's tirade,Anthony shrank back against Murray. The lead guitarist chuckled and reassured him, "No worries, mate. Seems like Greg is going to bat for you. Or should I say," he amended his previous remark, "going to war for you." He jiggled his arm, still draped over Anthony's shoulders, causing the Blue Wiggle to rock back and forth. A small smile reluctantly crossed drummer's face.
Greg was still raging. "He won't lay a finger on you, ever again!" he promised in a snarl. He continued to pace, oblivious to Anthony staring up at him wide-eyed. The Blue Wiggle's face registered the merest inception of hope. Could it be true? Could his mates protect him this time?
"Greg, that's great," Murray said of the Yellow Wiggle's impassioned speech. "Really fantastic." He grinned broadly. "But why don't we let Anthony rest awhile?" Greg looked disappointed at this suggestion—he'd been so intent on swift action. However, one glance at Anthony's slumped form convinced him that the Red Wiggle was right. "He needs to recover," the lead guitarist pointed out. "He's had such a hard time. And whoever did this to him, will still be there a few days from now."
"Yeah, all right," Greg sighed. His dark eyebrows knitted in a scowl. "I'll be looking forward to it." He stalked out. Murray and Jeff got up from the bed, at long last leaving Anthony's side.
"Try to get some rest, mate," Murray told him.
"Yeah, we'll come back to check on you," added Jeff. He suddenly yawned with one hand over his mouth. Being in a bedroom seemed to inspire him to have yet another nap. "If I don't fall asleep first," he concluded sheepishly.
The Red Wiggle rolled his eyes but smiled. "Well, perhaps both of you can have a good snooze," he suggested, eyes twinkling. He and Jeff headed out then. "Be sure to call us if you need anything," Murray implored him as he shut the door. Anthony flopped gratefully onto his bed, sighing in contentment. His friends' encouragement had calmed his fears. He would sleep more soundly tonight than he had in a long time.
In fact, he was asleep moments after his head hit the pillow. The speed at which his room filled with snores, would no doubt have made Jeff proud.