Chapter 6: Eddie, Kindness, and Violence

I gave Eddie a hundred bucks, told him to get her to tutor him, and buy her meals. Eddie’s mouth dropped open, I raised my fist: “I can’t stand people like you, just copying homework and not working, how are you going to make it in life? Just say yes or agree.”

Eddie shrank back and agreed. Every lunch and evening study, she tutored Eddie. Strangely, I couldn’t understand the teacher, but when she explained, Eddie didn’t get it, but I did. Seems our IQs are about the same. Getting second place in a semester wouldn’t be hard. I’m a buried genius.

One evening during a quiz, I handed in my paper early and snuck off to the bathroom. At a critical moment, suddenly there was a commotion outside. I thought the assistant principal was coming, panicked, and then heard her scream.

I went out, a buddy slapped my shoulder: “Dude, aren’t you going to check? Your girlfriend is about to be beaten to death by your mother-in-law!”

“Screw you.”

I sped up. Then saw a scene I’ll never forget. A woman who could be called pretty was dragging her by her dog-bit short hair, beating her from the third floor down to the first. The stairwell echoed with every slap. Lockers slammed shut, but nobody stepped in. So many stairs, down one by one.

She cursed her for being shameless, both daughters of the same family, why was her sister so good and she so cheap, if someone hadn’t told her, she wouldn’t have known people could be so low. "Why can’t you be more like your sister? She’s got her act together, and you’re just a mess."

For twenty bucks and a roll, she held hands and kissed someone. The useless Eddie stood by, blushing and stammering that they didn’t kiss, he just got her some food.

Her mom cursed her for being a starving ghost reborn. She finally couldn’t hold back and said, Mom, I’m hungry.

Her mom said: “Did I give you too little money? Every month I have your sister bring you spending money, you’re still not satisfied, how much do you want?”

They argued until she cried and said fine, then give me dad’s money, I don’t want the part you left for my sister, I want dad’s money.

“So that’s what you’re waiting for, so that’s what you’re waiting for, ungrateful brat.”

Her mom trembled with anger, looked around, grabbed a flowerpot and smashed it on her head, saying she shouldn’t even think about splitting the inheritance unless she died.

Warm blood flowed down her face. Utterly miserable. So this was the mom who supposedly loved her so much? So this was the mom she secretly saved money to buy gifts for by skipping snacks?

Classmates pointed and whispered. I rushed over, Riley held me back: “Don’t, do you want her to be beaten to death?”

She was like a plucked chick, crying: “Mom, didn’t you say to treat us equally? My sister made progress and got to go on a trip. I also got third place, third in the whole grade, out of more than two hundred students. Mom, look at me.”

“Didn’t you say you’d get first? So good at bragging, only third. Useless.”

Her mom took her ID and left. “If… I had a stomachache during the exam. Mom, I just want some money for food, I just want to eat some meat, want to run without fainting, want my period not to hurt so much, is that too much?”

Her mom didn’t look back: “Right, you don’t deserve it. I don’t have a daughter who dates early and supports boys.”

She buried her head and knelt on the ground, crying. Thunder rumbled in the sky, each boom making her tremble.

Her mom left, but she still wouldn’t give up, shouting: “Mom, don’t go, I’ll get first next time!”

I shook off Riley’s hand, went over to give her an umbrella, she suddenly came to herself, grabbed my umbrella, and ran to hold it over her mom who was leaving.

I turned and left in anger. Tomorrow, tomorrow, I would scold her hard, how could she be like this? Was she brainwashed by her mom?

I didn’t sleep all night, kept thinking of what harsh words would work best on her. Got up at midnight and ordered her some pain reliever and bandages on Amazon. I scrolled through Amazon at 2 a.m., thumb hovering over the Buy Now button, heart pounding like I’d just flunked a test. Tossed and turned, the glow from my phone screen painting lines across my ceiling.

I thought, I must be crazy. But after thinking all night, the next morning when I got to the classroom, I saw my umbrella on my desk. There was a note: "Thank you. Sorry about the umbrella. I’ll pay you back someday. Promise."

The umbrella was broken, several ribs snapped. It wasn’t broken by accident, it was clearly smashed in madness. I held the ruined umbrella, feeling my breath running wild in my mind.

She never came back, she took a leave of absence. My umbrella, fifteen bucks, was never repaid. I’m petty, I remember it well. That cheap umbrella felt heavier than my backpack.