Chapter Nine

The Tail and the Remedy were in the Remedy’s back yard, playing with his collection of RoboLords.  It was a weekend afternoon, and everything was bright.  The smell of distant barbecues filled the air, and dragonflies hummed through nearby gardens.  

The Remedy had a large back yard, which was well tended by his mother.  A wood fence that his father had built stretched around its perimeter, and the spaces between his mother’s vegetable patch, the rear of their house, and the abodes of various trees hosted well-watered patches of grass.  

The two boys were kneeling before a young pine tree about twelve feet high, and if they had looked behind them they would have seen the back of the Remedy’s house.  It was a white house at that time, though his father would later repaint it brown.  In the middle of the house there was a length of picket fence that concealed a cement stairwell, and this stairwell led down to the basement of the house.  Above this picket fence there was a large window on the left side of the house.  This window looked in on the room where the Remedy’s parents slept, and there was a lampshade made of shells visible through the window.  At the opposite end of the fence there was a smaller window where the bathroom was, and this window was curtained from within.  On the right of the picket fence a large patio stretched across the remainder of the house, with steps that extended upward into an alcove from which a kitchen could be accessed.  Inside the patio was a selection of lawn furniture, the Remedy’s BMX bicycle, and a pair of brown plastic garbage cans.  Next to the door at the top of the patio stairs, within a window gazing out from the kitchen, the top of the Remedy’s mother’s head could be discerned.  She was washing dishes at the kitchen sink.

        The two boys were an odd match.  But pairs of boys, before they are divided into different, older tribes, are often so.  The Tail was a portly boy who wore thick lenses over beady, squinting eyes.  He was without question the best student in their class, but carried about his person the leprous stigma of unpopularity.  He was the kind of boy that other boys enjoy hitting.  He was the kind of boy picked last for ball games.  He was the kind of boy that girls fail to see.  One hopes that we grow out of such awkwardness, but sometimes we hope for too much.

        The Remedy, on the other hand, was a very handsome boy.  He was also given to boyish diversions.  He watched the Seahawks, and almost shared his father’s love of the game.  He was teased by girls, and he teased them back.  He was the one doing the picking during those ball games, and the first to groan if the Tail joined his team.  His parents overindulged him, and he lived in a house full of things he wanted.  His life was something shiny and resolute.

        The Tail, unknown to his handsomer classmate, still wet the bed and mourned a mother who drank herself to death.  His dreams were all fashioned from disappointments.  He held himself aloof, and looked out on the world with wary eyes.

He was still trying to believe that he was a guest in this other boy’s house.  He was still trying to believe that the Remedy had invited him.  He wasn’t used to getting invited places.  He wasn’t used to playing with others.  He wasn’t used to almost having friends.  It seemed to the Tail that his stars had somehow aligned.  It seemed to him that all was right with the world.  Again, one hopes.

        The Remedy was holding CopperHead, poised over the enemy fortress they had constructed from a piece of Styrofoam.  Copperhead was an anthropoid figure, resembling a yellow and tan snake.  CopperHead perched upon a vacated anthill, which the Remedy imagined as a formidable peak, comparable to K2 or Everest.  The anthill stood above a forest of grass, and from this higher elevation Copperhead was searching the enemy fortifications for a weak point.  The Remedy’s bespectacled classmate, the Tail, was holding Magnetron in a similar fashion.  Magnetron was also anthropoid, though his silver hue made him resemble a robot rather than a snake.  Both heroes readied themselves for battle.

        The two boys were supposed to be constructing a diorama for their Language Arts class, but the day was as young as they were, so there was no hurry.  Within the Remedy’s house was a pile of construction paper, a shoebox, two pairs of scissors, glue, and several sets of markers – but these art supplies had been set out by the Remedy’s mother without his knowledge.  Instead of completing their assignment, the two boys had retired to the back yard to contend with GoldLord, their perennial archenemy.  

Their diorama project, assigned to them by their teacher Mrs. Tyler, was to be on a book of their choice.  One they had both read.  The Remedy’s classmate, the Tail, was fond of the Choose-Your-Own-Adventure books, so they had selected one of the more “academic” books in that series.  The Remedy had had trouble reading even that of course, but he had sweated his way through the first section, and he knew enough to pretend that he had read the whole book.

They had already spent several minutes burying the Tail’s older RoboLords in his mother’s vegetable patch.  A proper burial for the fallen seemed like a good prelude to battle.  Copperhead and Magnetron had both spoken at the service, each listing their fallen comrades’ virtues, and reiterating their resolve to vanquish evil.

        Clutched within the boys’ hands, CopperHead and Magnetron charged the enemy fort, laying waste to all who opposed them.  GoldLord, ever on the alert, allowed his minions to perish as he made for a nearby tank.  GoldLord, as his name implied, was gold and had an extra set of arms.  He also wore a horned helmet, and wielded a rifle that shot small pellets.  His escape effected, CopperHead and Magnetron left the fortress in pursuit, CopperHead piloting a glider and Magnetron, inexplicably, piloting a boat.  GoldLord fired a salvo of missiles at the two heroes, but failed to hit either of his targets.  At the last moment CopperHead and Magnetron leapt from their vehicles, both descending upon the hapless GoldLord at the same moment.

        Victory had been achieved.  Democracy was safe once again.  Evil had been punished.  And the two boys, suddenly bored of the action figures, stood up and left them in the grass.

        The Tail, normally very careful with his things, marveled at the offhand way in which the Remedy threw CopperHead and GoldLord onto the ground.  It must have been nice, he thought, when people bought you new toys.

        But perhaps he underestimated the Remedy’s love for his new CopperHead.  As the Remedy turned back to where they had discarded the toys, he saw something that bothered him.

        “Hey,” said the Remedy, “You put Magnetron down on top of CopperHead.  You scratched him.  I KNOW you did.  You should say sorry NOW.”

        The Tail knelt down and inspected both action figures, unable to find any scratches that weren’t there before.  “Sorry,” he said anyway, “I didn’t mean to scratch him.”

        “Yeah, well you should be CAREFUL,” said the Remedy, “I don’t let just anyone play with my RoboLords.  That CopperHead was expensive.”

        “I’m sorry,” the Tail repeated.  “I won’t do it again.”

        “You better NOT,” said the Remedy, as if this was exactly what the Tail had threatened to do, “Or I’ll make YOU sorry!  Yeah, YOU’LL be the one who’s SORRY!  You think you’re so great just because you’re smart and you can read good and stuff.  You think you’re better than me, don’t you?”

        “No,” said the Tail, growing worried.  “No I don’t.”

        “Yeah we’ll you’re just a FAT boy, and your parents don’t even have money to buy you clothes.  You’re just a NERD.  You think you’re so great just because teacher likes you!”

        “No, I don’t think that,” said the Tail in all honesty, “I really don’t think that.  I didn’t mean to hurt your toy—“

        “You just think you’re SO wonderful, because teacher’s always saying ‘oh look at this’ and ‘oh good job’ and you’re so much better than me.  Teacher LOVES you.  Teacher never punishes you.  And you’re so UGLY, and I know teacher just made you my partner because she thinks I’m the STUPIDEST boy in the class.  But I’m NOT.  I’m really smart about other stuff that you don’t even know about.  I’m really smart, and YOU’RE the one who’s ugly and fat and stupid!”

        The Remedy was really working himself into a fury by then, gesturing with one of the action figures as he did so.  The Tail knelt motionless before him, terrified at the thought of what his classmate might do.

        “You better not scratch my toys… You better not do it…”

        And as he spoke the Remedy began to build the perceived scratch into a greater and greater enormity – not unlike something the Israelites might have done in Moses’ absence.  The scratch began to look like a deliberate act, betraying malicious intent.  The Remedy’s eyes narrowed and he leaned forward, as if he was about to pounce.

        “I’m sorry,” said the Tail.

        “Yeah I bet you’re sorry,” said the Remedy, “And I bet you’ll buy me a new one, won’t you?  You won’t scratch MY things again.  I think you better buy me a new one, or I’m going to smack you.”

        The Tail was truly afraid then.  He was backing away slowly as the Remedy gesticulated.  He knew the reputation the other boy had.  He knew that he would come off the worst in any fight between them.  For an instant he considered crying, but held the tears back, just barely.  “Buy you a new one?” he stuttered, “But I didn’t even… I mean I… I’m really sorry, OK?  I really think your CopperHead is OK.  I didn’t even…”

        But the Remedy was not to be swayed.  “I know what you did,” he continued, “You think you’re SO smart…”  

The two of them remained where they were, though the Remedy had stopped swinging his arms.  He was ready to spring forward, and the Tail was trying not to shake, trying not to cry, trying not to run away.  “You better buy me a new one,” the Remedy said slowly, “Or I’m going to smack you in front of the whole class tomorrow.”

        This provoked even more silence.  A stranger passing by that back yard might have wondered why those two boys were both standing there, so still, and not speaking.  A stranger might have wondered if they were playing some new game, known only to boys.  A stranger might have wondered this, but would have passed on.

        “And you’re going to do this stupid diorama all by yourself,” said the Remedy.  “You’re going to buy me a new CopperHead, and then you’re going to do this all by yourself.  If you do a good job I’ll still be your friend, and I’ll still let you play with my RoboLords.

        “But if you do a bad job…”