The Fat Boy Chronicles Read online

  Sunday, 10–22

  Saturday, I had to rake and rake and rake leaves. Man, was it a lot. I never knew there were that many leaves on a tree. Me and Dad started at 9 in the morning and didn’t finish until noon. At first it was cold and I could see my breath but then I got hot from working. Mom brought us some hot chocolate. By the time we finished there was a pile of leaves as big as a car. Tomorrow, we’ll burn them in the back corner. I did fall in the pile once, just like when I was little. My lazy sister didn’t help at all. She sat on the sofa and talked on the phone. I think she should major in communications when she goes to college.

  Mom made a pot of chili for lunch. She makes it with mushrooms, peppers and big hamburger chunks. I ate three bowls while watching the UC game. I have some homework to do, which includes re–writing an essay for your class (Remember, the one on pollution you marked up with your “screamin’ demon” red pen?), reading a chapter in history and then some math homework. Actually, I need to study for a math test. Who gives tests on Monday? Someone who doesn’t care about students, that’s who. I hope you’re not planning on doing that anytime soon. Like ever. If you do, then I take it back. I know you care about us.

  Maybe this week, I’ll go to the football game. It’s homecoming and I want to see if the girl I voted for wins. My sister’s friend Asha is on the court but she is such a snob, she doesn’t deserve to win. She came over today and when I walked in the TV room, she said, “Freshmen make me sick.” I said she could always leave. My sister asked if I had something to do that didn’t involve being at home. I went to my room and played video games. When my sister is mean or lets her friends be mean, I really enjoy hunting for aliens. If there was some way to put Jessica’s face on the monster, I would.

  I’ll try and talk Allen into going to the game so I can sit with someone. If Asha doesn’t win, I can’t wait for her to come back over to our house.

  Tuesday, 10–24

  I heard Mom talking on the phone with Mrs. Johnson from where we used to live. I might get to go back there for Halloween and go trick–or–treating with my old friends. That would be too cool. If I can’t, I probably won’t go at all—it’s no fun to walk around if you don’t know anyone. Mom would insist on following me and I would be so embarrassed. This year, I want to be the dad from The Incredibles. Mom is good about making my outfits if I give her enough time. One year, she waited until the last couple of days before trying to make my Spiderman outfit. It came out a little small and I wore it anyway. I was standing in front of this one house and I bent over to get a Reese’s and my pants ripped. I couldn’t hear because of my mask, so for the rest of the night, every time I walked away from someone’s door, they would start laughing. It wasn’t until Mom ran into our old next door neighbor at the grocery store that I even found out.

  Wednesday, 10–25

  Tonight was youth group night at church. We don’t always go to church on Wednesday but I’m glad we did this time. With all the video games we have at church, I have a good time playing the other kids. You would think church would be boring but I always enjoy it a lot. We even have our own band and it’s awesome. Last night we played some really good tunes. I was bummed Paul didn’t show up, because we really smoke when we’re playing the sax together. I don’t get it. He lives for youth group—at least that’s what he told me. I think it’s this whole murder thing. That’s all he thinks about. I’m beginning to think he’s afraid that the murderer will come after him, since it happened so near his house.

  It might sound like all I do at church is play games and practice with our band, but we have classes and the preacher talks to us. It’s a bit more relaxed on Wednesday than on Sunday. One game that I love is Foosball and we have one at church. I can twirl the men really hard. A few weeks ago, I was playing when I spun the thing so fast it kicked the ball across the room and under the ping–pong table. Sable Moore—the same one that’s in our English class—went to get it and crawled halfway under there. Right when she reached for the ball she saw a bug or something that moved and she screamed and raised up. Her head bonked into the table and that made her squeal again. Everyone came running. Then we got yelled at for being too loud. It was way too much fun.

  Going to church on Wednesday really helps me get revived for the rest of the week. I can’t wait till next week. Maybe Paul will be there. I have to go do some other homework now, but I hope you’re reading our journals. I didn’t think I would like doing this but it’s okay for something I have to do. I have to admit that even though you aren’t supposed to be reading the ones we tell you not to, I like writing them. It makes me feel like I have a good friend that listens. Even if it’s just me.

  Saturday, 10–28

  I went to the game last night, mostly because I wanted to see who won Homecoming Queen. Allen went with me and his dad took us. Before the game, the cheerleaders rode the floats around the track and threw candy and little plastic footballs into the crowd. I almost caught one, but Allen knocked my arm and some kid behind me got it.

  The theme for this year was “Reach for the Stars,” but it should have been “Let’s Boo and Terrorize the Freshmen Float.” Ours was first in line and I admit that it was pretty cheesy. We had a cardboard cutout of a space shuttle and some kid dressed up like an astronaut, but the problem was that he couldn’t see out of his helmet, and he was waving toward the football field instead of the crowd. The man driving the float wasn’t paying attention to the cars in front of him, and he had to stop real quick. He hit the brakes and all the people on the float went flying forward. Everyone in the stands laughed. Then the astronaut kid couldn’t get up, and when he did, he head-butted a cheerleader’s rear end and knocked her down again. That was really funny. When our float got in front of the senior section, the seniors started throwing the candy back at our float. The cheerleaders got behind the space shuttle, but the astronaut got hit with a little football right on top of his head. When that happened, all the seniors went crazy cheering.

  It was exciting when our team finally ran through the big banner onto the field. Parkwood is either really bad or we’re better than I thought, ’cause we were way ahead by halftime. Robb Thuman started as quarterback, and he played awesome during the first half. Maybe it’s okay that he picks on me.

  Just before halftime, me and Allen went to get some popcorn and a hot dog. Nate and his dad were in line behind us, but neither of them said anything to us. When I walked by, Nate stared at my hot dog and puffed out his cheeks. Allen and I were having such a good time, we just ignored him. We got back to our seats just when they were announcing who won the float contest. The freshmen came in last, big surprise, but I think we were the most entertaining. The junior float won, which made the seniors mad, but I bet they lost because they terrorized our cheerleaders and astronaut.

  I did see my sister sitting down front with all the cool kids. She was pretty sure Asha was going to win, and started chanting Asha’s name along with the rest of her crowd. When they announced Halle Murphy as the winner, Asha was the last one in the court to congratulate her. Figures. She’s such a stuck–up Paris Hilton wannabe. I know I shouldn’t be this way, but next time Asha is over to our house and says something mean, I will ask her how the homecoming vote went. She says mean things to me all the time, but I’ll probably chicken out. I know how it feels to have your feelings hurt.

  You know what, Mrs. Pope, it’s funny how the “accepted” kids expect me to put up with their comments, but they can’t take it when someone says something smart–ass to them. Just for a day, I would like Asha or Nate to be me. Then they’d know what it feels like. Fat chance of that happening.

  At the end of the game, Allen texted his dad to come pick us up. While we were going to the steps out of the stadium, the football team was walking off the field so everyone stopped to cheer for them. They went through the crowd on their way to the locker room. Most of them were real dirty and sweaty, but some were clean and I knew they didn’t get to play. One of the guys
who bothers me in PE was a clean one. He saw me standing there cheering for the team. He kind of nodded at me and then he stuck out his hand for me to high–five. I hesitated at first, thinking he might pull his hand away. He didn’t.

  I think I will go to another game this year. Maybe my dad will go too.

  Sunday, 10–29

  Paul spent the night again Saturday. He’s all bummed because the boyfriend confessed to the murder. The kid said when they were having sex, he pressed too hard on Kimberly’s throat. She started yelling at him about it, but he kept on doing it, and then he ran off and left her in the woods. He didn’t think he killed her though. Paul still doesn’t believe the boyfriend did it—the cops haven’t released his name, even though they could because he’s eighteen. Whether the kid did it or not it doesn’t matter; he’s already incriminated himself, and he’s busted on account of statutory rape. Paul spent all night on the Internet and figured out the street Kimberly lived on and found a sexual predator who lived a few streets over from her house. The guy had been arrested on counts of child pornography, which I guess means purchasing videos and stuff online. Really sick stuff. Paul wants to go over to his house and check out his brand of cigarettes. I asked Paul how he knows this guy smokes, and Paul said he can just tell by how bad his skin looks. I don’t know how he can tell that from an Internet picture. Most of the sexual predators we’ve seen have really bad faces, but that doesn’t mean they all smoke. Paul said if you’re a predator, you smoke to relieve the nervousness of committing that kind of crime.

  Anyway, Paul wants us to act like we’re selling merchandise for band, and then ask for a cigarette. The cigarette butts we found near the murder site were Marlboros, which is a common enough brand. I see them around school all the time. But Paul thinks if the cigarettes match up, it’s a start. I wish he’d drop the whole thing and start acting normal again. When we played Super Smash, his mind was barely there.

  Monday, 10–30

  We’re having a Halloween party at church Wednesday night, so I’m not going out in my old neighborhood. It’s getting too dangerous over there anyway. One of my old neighbors told my mom that there are gangs running around, and she doesn’t think many kids are going out this year. Seems ironic that we had a murder near our “safe” neighborhood, but Mom said that was not normal.

  Tuesday, 10–31

  Happy Halloween! I hope your twins have fun. I bet little Josh won’t let you dress him up as a Raggedy Andy doll after this year. Three’s the age limit for all that cutesy stuff for guys. Junebug (no offense, but I hope that’s a nickname) won’t mind it though. But if she’s anything like my sister, she’ll want to get all dressed up and be Cinderella at the ball. Or a cat. Why is it that all girls like to dress up like cats? I was a hobo for at least four years, and then my mom got the bright idea that it would be fun to make my costumes. I’m kinda bummed I’m not going out this year. I miss all the candy. Mom bought extra bags of candy corn so I won’t miss out too much. She also bought bags of Snickers, which are my favorites.

  Wednesday, 11–1

  Mom finished my costume in time, so I got to dress up for the party. Not many of the teenagers wore costumes, but I didn’t care because the little kids really thought I was the dad from The Incredibles. It was hilarious. Paul showed up and didn’t say much about the murder. He was almost his old self. He didn’t dress up, but he ran around acting like a werewolf. Everyone was cracking up about it. I noticed he had a big bruise on his face, but I pretended I didn’t see it. He probably fell off his bike or something. If he didn’t, it’s really none of my business anyway. He seemed happy enough though. Almost hyper. He told me later he had a girlfriend. That explained a lot. Like why he wasn’t so obsessed about the murder. He said somebody called social services about his mother. He asked if I had told anyone about her. I shrugged and said I didn’t say anything to anybody. Paul said things got worse for him afterwards. I didn’t have a chance to ask him what he meant, because a bunch of little kids jumped all over us. Paul ran after them and tried to scare them. We were all laughing like crazy.

  The highlight of the party for me was the food. A parent committee brought in candy apples and brownies and stuff, plus we all brought bags of candy to share. I know I’m too fat already, but everyone would have thought I was nuts if I didn’t gorge myself with candy, like a normal kid. Once I started eating, it was like I couldn’t stop. When I got home, my stomach really hurt. My mom asked if I had a good time, and I said, “No, I ate too much.” She brought me something to settle my stomach, but it didn’t help. Guess that’s what Halloween is all about for kids, getting sick on tons of candy and then feeling miserable afterwards. Same thing used to happen to me on campouts in the Cub Scouts. I would eat so many roasted marshmallows and s’mores, I’d always end up feeling like I wanted to puke. One time it went the other way, and I was so embarrassed I almost quit the Scouts.

  Friday, 11–3

  Please Don’t Read This Page

  Nate is a total jerk. I don’t know if you know him or not, but he is. I can usually ignore people like him, but he is nothing but a bully. That is all I am going to say about him. That makes me sound like Forrest Gump. I just hope you don’t have him in any of your classes, for your sake.

  I am writing this in gym. We didn’t have to dress out because there’s a game tonight and the coaches are getting all the stuff ready. The football players are showing off for the cheerleaders in our class while the rest of us are doing homework or playing around. No one is paying attention to us. We could be planning an escape from prison and the coaches wouldn’t notice. As long as we stay in our cage, everything is fine. I don’t really know very many people in here, and some of the guys say things about me, so no one talks to me much. This week can’t get over fast enough and neither can this class. Not yours but the one I am sitting in right now.

  Since Spencer doesn’t sit with Allen and me at lunch any more, Nate decided to resume his usual antics. He pulled the top of his pants down so his underwear and top of his crack showed, then he stuffed his book bag in his shirt and walked around the lunchroom. Allen and I ignored him until he grabbed a handful of chips from Allen’s tray and started stuffing them in his face. Nate made mouth noises like an idiot and had the entire cafeteria cracking up. Allen started crying and finally ran out of the lunchroom. I told Nate he was a stupid moron and that only cowards make fun of other people. I didn’t care what people thought of me, I had to say something. Then Nate grabbed my hand, like he was gay, and blinked at me. “Hey sweetheart,” he said. “You sure have some great–looking boobies.” Then he looked at his friends, sitting a couple of tables away. “Slim Jim is upset,” he said while batting his eyes. Kids started laughing, which usually makes Nate worse, but then Spencer came over and told Nate to knock it off. “Leave those guys alone,” he said. “They’re not hurting anyone.” Nate smirked and acted like he was going to smart mouth Spencer, but with Spencer standing there all cool, and the added fact that he is a starting player on the JV soccer team, Nate patted Spencer on the back, and said, “Okay, that’s cool, man. I get what you’re trying to say. Those guys aren’t worth my time.” Then Nate saluted Spencer and went back to his table. Spencer gave me a look that said, “Sorry, I tried.” But I felt pretty good that Spencer had taken up for Allen and me. Other than my parents and a few friends at youth group, no one had ever done that before.

  Monday, 11–6

  Please Don’t Read This Page

  If it isn’t one friend it’s another. Now Allen doesn’t want to go back to the cafeteria. Not because of Nate, but because someone told his parents that he ran out of there crying, and now they are really steamed. They went to the principal’s office and demanded that he do something about the way kids act at lunch. The principal called an assembly over the whole issue and talked about treating one another with respect. It felt like the entire student body was watching Allen and me, sitting like two fat dweebs in the freshman section. It was about the most awf
ul ordeal I have ever been through. At lunch, we sat alone, hardly speaking, feeling like outcasts, like the untouchables we read about last year when we were studying the caste system in India. I went from Mr. Incredible to Mr. Untouchable pretty fast. The entire school looks weird now, like a beige and gray prison haunted by sneering pod people.

  Then, to make matters worse, the principal called our parents in, and now we all have to have a big meeting about the entire incident. I begged my parents not to get involved, but Spencer told his parents the kids were really mean to me too. “Why didn’t you say anything?” my mom asked. I tried to tell her that ratting out the other kids would only make matters worse. That it’s not as bad for me as it is for Allen. But they want to meet with the principal anyway. And they want to meet with Nate and his parents. I can’t believe Spencer told his parents about the lunchroom disaster. Doesn’t he realize he’s made things worse? My life was hell before, and now it’s going to be like living in ten hells. In math class, Nate whispered that I better not rat on him in the meeting. “Unless you’re a big kindergarten baby and need Mommy and Daddy to hold your dick for you,” he sneered. Monday’s the meeting, and my mom offered to drive Allen and me to school. Gee, golly, I feel lucky.

  Maybe we’ll move again this weekend.

  Tuesday, 11–7

  Please Don’t Read This Page

  We have a study hall in math today because Mr. L’s sick, and the sub didn’t know what else to do. I’m caught up on all my work except this journal, which goes on forever. So, now I’m working on English in math.

  We had our big meeting this morning—I had to miss science class because of it. Nate glared at me when the office helper came to get me out of class. It was a long walk down the hall because I didn’t know what to expect, but the meeting went much better than I thought it would.

  Mr. Gardner asked what happened, and I explained about Nate (Spencer had already ratted on him) and how his making fun of us got all the kids aroLife is so unfair. I wish I Life is so unfair. I wish I Life is so unfair. I wish I und us laughing. Mr. Gardner wanted to know who the kids were, and I said it’s a different group every day, and that it would be too hard to single out anyone. Allen then piped up and said if Nate found out we told on him, he might beat the crap out of us. Allen said he wanted to forget about the whole thing, and I agreed.