Anxiety Stricken

New Novel and Screenplay Provides Comic Relief for Anxiety Sufferers

WESLEY CHAPEL, Fla. – Author and anxiety victim ferf ziamond casts the serious issue of anxiety disorders into a lighthearted, comic story of a family in a small North Carolina town in a new book written in both novel and screenplay format, Anxiety Stricken (now available through AuthorHouse).

In the small town of Lenoir, N.C., the narrator, his wife, Kelly, and their son, Kevvy, begin a new life miles away from the world they know. The narrator is a victim of harsh anxiety attacks, which present great dilemmas along the journey.

Young Kevvy is smitten with a new acquaintance while he must deal with threats from the school bullies. The narrator’s mother-in-law comes to visit, causing large amounts of anxiety, but equally large amounts of humor at the same time. Meanwhile, the narrator learns of two others with his disorder and attempts to assist them after finding a possible cure for the awful episodes.

Ziamond seeks to bring readers “a whirlwind of fun from behind the eyes of some of the country’s worst anxiety attack victims.” The story comes from exaggerated notes written in the author’s journal while taking a course dedicated to curing anxiety and depression. This all took place at a time of life-altering anxiety for the author.

“In Anxiety Stricken we are able to laugh at our disorders while bringing them out into the open,” says Ziamond. “The best cure is not hiding it from others.”

Ferf Ziamond is a pen name representing a colorless, ageless, genderless storyteller who introduces a different concept to readers, says the author. Ziamond has also written Remembering Olsen and Exchanging Pleasantries. Both are available through AuthorHouse.

AuthorHouse is the premier publishing house for emerging authors and new voices in literature. For more information, please visit www.authorhouse.com.

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ferf ziamond

Anxiety Stricken

for

anyone who ever experienced one

Thank you Lucinda, Carolyn, and Midwest!

It’s all in the follow through

INTRO

Two burnout teenagers, Bagger and Nopoly sit in a smoke filled abandoned apartment. Cartoons on the television with the volume on full blast, a few beer cans around the room. A Monopoly game board sits on the floor with the money and pieces spread around unorganized.

Two typical mafia type gangsters burst through the door. “Feeling anxious boys?” Ghado, the taller, meaner of the two smirks. His voice is horse like a smokers. “Have a good time at the party? Now it’s time to pay up.”

CHAPTER ONE

The three of us, my lovely yet un-understanding wife Kelly, her son Kevvy, and myself approach our final destination.

Un-understanding may not be a word, however it explains Kelly perfectly, in my eyes anyway. You’ll understand when the time comes.

We drove from Hillsboro Ohio just outside of Cincinnati and are arriving to our new little home four hundred and thirty miles away in Lenoir North Carolina.

We pulled fifteen year old Kevvy away from his good friend Marshal who he grew up with. Our family is quite close with Marshal and his mom. Four hundred and thirty miles will decide how close we remain.

Kelly and Kevvy are sound asleep as I drive down a main road leading to our place. There are storefronts, restaurants we are familiar with, and even a beautiful looking bowling alley just before the turn off. I remember bowling.

The landscape is lush, an inspiration for a poem. Let me get my pen. Children play on long lawns leading up to well crafted newly built homes. There’s ours. One story ranch, tanish in color, cultivated lawn, white picket fence. Geez, it sounds like a fairy-tale.

A window next to the garage tempts me to call the room my office. A view of the street, that works for me. I am a cartoonist. Yes, I draw pictures and scribble a joke underneath. I call it a job and I still allow myself to get stressed. Yep, I‘m the guy that average workers want to slap across the head and say, give me a break pansy! For the record it’s not the job that works me to a frenzy, it’s the thoughts eating away at my hopeless brain. A pansy in a frenzy.

“Honey, we’re home!”

Kelly rubs her eyes. “Wow. It’s still as beautiful as it was three weeks ago.”

“What the hell is this under my ass? Ow! Shoot it’s the damn seat belt buckle.” Kevvy stretches and grunts.

“Watch your mouth!”

“I didn’t curse ma.”

“You said damn.”

“So?”

“Welcome home guys.”

“Great Jim. Shall we get our gloves and throw the ball around now?” Kevvy is sarcastic.

“If that’s what you want to do smartass.”

“See mom. That’s where I get it.”

“Jim.”

“Relax Kelly. Look at this place.” We walk up to the front door. Inside is gorgeous. Wood floors, ceiling fans, a view of a lake out back from the large sliding glass doors.

“Where’s Kevvy?”

“He just went that way.”

“Kevvy?”

“What?”

“Where are you?”

“I’m in my room.” Kevvy lies down, his back on the floor with legs crossed while reading a motorcycle magazine.

“I have to take a walk.”

“Jim, don’t start this crap again.”

“I’ll be right back.” I use the sliding glass door to escape towards the lake. I don’t know why I get this feeling but it’s not the first time. I begin to panic and I don’t have a reason to panic. I am fearing made up things in my mind. I’m dizzy, shaky, hot, cold, confused. I don’t want to walk too close to the lake for fear that I may jump in. If Kevvy was next to me, would I push him in? What about Kelly? The thoughts race. Am I losing my mind? What the hell is wrong with me? I try not to cry or make an ass of myself. I feel a tear. I would let it drop so not to draw attention but no one is around so I wipe it.

What if I had a real job? In an office in the city. I’d have to walk or run away whenever I felt this way. What if I worked on a construction site? I could end up killing myself. Or at a store assisting customers. I could embarrass myself. How would I handle that? Could I handle that? Would I have to be put away?

CHAPTER TWO

In Kevvy’s room at a poker table, our only piece of furniture, I sip wine, Kevvy, a soda. He looks at me eyes raised from the magazine. “Fun trip Jim?”

“It wasn’t so bad. You guys slept through the beautiful parts.”

“Not that trip. You’re attack by the lake.”

“Shhhh! Your mother!”

“She’s out.”

“I know but you never know.”

“Thanks for making sense.” Kevvy looks back down at the magazine. I can’t help but smile at his comment.

“It wasn’t enjoyable.”

“I could tell.” He looks over the magazine once again. “You gotta do something about that. It’s scary. I know you tried everything but this is crazy.”

“Don’t say crazy.”

“You know what I mean.”

“I have to look into more solutions.” I am doubtful as to there being any solutions. I don’t want to be so negative in front of the kid though. He lost his father for God’s sake. He doesn’t need his dad’s replacement snapping out or bringing him down.

Kevvy lost his dad, a fireman who saved a child before going back into a building to die himself. A hero. How can I ask this kid to call me dad? His dad was a hero for crying out loud. The only memory he has of his dad is that motorcycle magazine. Maybe if he did call me dad all these weird feelings would go away. If it wasn’t for that child burning in that building, we wouldn’t have what we have now. Why was I put into this poor kid’s life? There has to be a reason. I over analyze as always.

Kelly enters. She puts down her packages and rambles on without coming up for air. “Kevvy, I saw a bunch of kids skateboarding, cute girls watching. A pizza place down the road. I picked up these little decorations.” A ceramic bird and glass ornaments. “There is other stuff in the car. Give me a hand guys.” Kevvy claps. “Not that kind of hand. I ordered some furniture. The stores are so nice. The people are friendly. The air is pure. Why didn’t we do this sooner?”

“It’s a treat ma.” Kevvy follows her to the car.

“I spoke to your grandmother. She’ll be here in two days.”

I begin to follow with those words echoing in my head as everything seems like slow motion. “She’ll be here in two days.” The words bounce around my brain uncontrollably. Couldn’t I get away from these people for at least a week? Why did we come here? My mind becomes clogged. “Two days.” I need to sit. I crouch down on the grass.

Kelly is not pleased. “What now?”

“Let him relax ma. He drove a long way.”

Kevvy to my rescue. I knew I liked this kid for a reason. I wish he could call me dad. Why did his father die? Am I going to die? How am I going to die? When I die do I just go away like it was before I was born? Nothing? Or is there really a heaven and a hell? Can it be worse than my nightmares? Am I doomed to frightening images for eternity? Will I have faculties while lying in a box forever? The thoughts race back to Kelly’s big news. “She’ll be here in two days.”

CHAPTER THREE

Two days pass. It’s time for grandma to join us in our tranquil getaway. Oh joy! Kelly’s mom isn’t the worst of people but she can be a royal pain in the ass at times. I know her husband is responsible for this little trip. He just couldn’t wait for us to move far away so he could ship her off to give himself a vacation. I envy that son of a gun.

He stands, feet planted in the ground on a golf course. He eases back his nine iron and whacks a ball. “Man I never felt so alive! It’s all in the follow through.”

He makes the best of his time wife free while I stand in the driveway to greet his basket of joy. “Hi mom.”

The driver smiles at me with his hand out.

“What do I owe you my good man?”

“Thirty one eleven sir.”

Mom pulls her bag from the back seat. She has no intention of paying. Her face lights up when she sees me. It lights up more when seeing the house. I imagine that hugging her would be immensely uncomfortable.

She approaches. “Hello Jim. Good to see you.” No hug. I am relieved.

Kelly emerges from the house. “Mom!” She runs to hug her as if they hadn’t seen each other two days ago. I’d have to come back a prisoner of war after ten years to get her to run to me like that.

Inside they sit down to coffee with a talk show on the TV. “You’re looking good Jim.”

“Yep. A lot has changed in the last two days.”

“Where’s Kevvy? I bet he got big.”

“Yea, we had to put him in the garage. He can’t fit in the front door anymore.”

“Jim.” Kelly is stern.

“Yea, yea. I got some work to do.”

“Right, go scribble some pictures.”

Again it’s not the most strenuous of work, but some comments are not called for. My scribbling pays for everything we have. I feel useless enough without my work being put down.

I look through a box that I begin to unpack. There it is, my half a trophy. I once won an award for my art skill. It came in two parts and over the years only the top piece remained. I read the trophy. “For an outstanding performance in the field of art.” My name is engraved below “James Pickaney.”

The bottom piece was just a base. There was no engraving or anything special on it. The trophy just can’t stand up without it. I throw the trophy into the closet. This is the beginning of my new unorganized office.

I take a seat at my desk looking out the window. “Inspiration. Give me some.” A bird, children, a random automobile. I draw a picture of a bird driving an automobile. A child leaps over it. He drops a large portion of yogurt from his cup, it lands on the windshield. The bird makes a fist. The caption, “Darn kids!”

Kevvy looks over my shoulder. “You need help.”

“What did I tell you about that? You’re gonna put me closer to those padded walls.”

“Sorry Jim. It is a clever one.” He picks up the doodle. “It’s like when a bird craps on a person’s car right?”

“Can’t put nothing past this valedictorian to be. Speaking of that, how’s the new school?”

“So far so good. Just a bit uncomfortable around one girl. She gets up and walks out of the classroom sometimes with no explanation.”

That might be strange for Kevvy to grasp but not me. At one time I can recall doing something similar. I was close to Kevvy’s age when I had one of those nutty feelings I get from time to time.

An early Sunday morning mass. I begin to panic and I don’t have a reason to panic. I fear made up things in my mind. I tell myself I have to run screaming out of the church. I leave, but without running and screaming. My main concern was what the people around me thought.

“Don’t take for granted that you are somewhat normal. You should be there for people like that girl if your help is needed.”

CHAPTER FOUR

An average size classroom, a mixture of ethnic backgrounds, some students gathered by a desk in the back. Two burnouts at the window. One blows cigarette smoke outside, Nopoly, he gets the name from his famous Monopoly board game. The other keeps an eye out for the teacher, Bagger. He gets his nick name from always having beer in a brown bag in his locker.

A cute brunette, Carm sits alone in the back corner. Kevvy takes the seat beside her. “Hi.”

“Hey.” She pops her gum and turns the other way.

The teacher, early forties, tall, light hair, Mr. Quinn enters. Nopoly quickly drops the cigarette outside. It doesn’t make it to the ground. It burns on the ledge beside the window.

“Okay let’s settle down and take our seats.”

Bagger stands above Kevvy. “Dude, you’re in my seat.”

“If that’s how you do things here.”

An African American kid, James turns around. “You just listen to Bagger and get up.” He appears angry.

“Whatever you say.” He looks to Bagger. “Beggar.”

The class lets out a groan. “Oooooooh!”

Carm smiles and nods at Kevvy approvingly while chewing loudly.

Bagger watches Kevvy find a new seat. “We’ll talk after class you and me.”

The class groans again. “Oooooooh!”

Mr. Quinn steps towards the boys. “No one will be talking after class Bagger. Unless it is you and I.”

The class lets out another one.

“Okay guys that’s enough.” He begins the history lesson.

Ten minutes in Kevvy gets hit in the back of the head with a chalkboard eraser. He leaps from his seat and turns around in a boxing stance. The class laughs. He sits back down and laughs himself. Mr. Quinn picks up the eraser and motions for Bagger to follow him into the hall. Before they step out Mr. Quinn notices the cigarette burning outside the window. The class silenced.

Once the two leave the room the class becomes noisy with conversations spread around.

“New boy! You’re okay with me.”

“Got yourself in trouble with the wrong dude.”

“He ain’t so bad. Don’t sweat it.”

“I’m glad I’m not you.”

The same African American boy, James, sits turned in his seat just staring at Kevvy. He shakes his head.

Carm approaches Kevvy and hands him a note. She stands for a moment, stares, then heads out of the room looking fearful.

Mr. Quinn re-enters alone. “Okay. Okay. No harm Harold. The fun is over get in your seats.”

Kevvy appears worried yet confused. “No harm Harold?”

CHAPTER FIVE

Kelly approaches me at my desk with a request. “Hi hun.” She stands behind me and rubs my shoulders. It’s obvious she needs a favor.

“What do you need or what did you lose?”

“I resent that.”

“Oh, you’re just being friendly?”

“Is that shocking?”

“No, it’s exactly why I had to marry you.”

“Would you mind taking mom to bowling league since you’re in such a good mood?”

“So you didn’t lose anything. Why can’t you take her? And when the hell did she find time to join a bowling league?”

“A nice lady from the market, Lucy. They hit it right off. She’s from Dayton. Small world. Their almost the same age, mom is younger. They both like Elton John. Her dad back in Dayton is having some legal issues. Some company, Crosdale is threatening to sue him over supposed faulty machinery he used years ago when he had a business.”

“She’s only here a day and a half and she finds a bowling league? Couldn’t she have used that energy to find a motel?”

“Please take her.”

I start to worry as Kelly begins to leave my office. My fears and ‘what if’ thinking take over. I don’t want to drive her, what if I snap in the car? What if I have to walk her inside? What if I decide to throw her out of the moving car? On the other hand. “Honey, when will she be ready to go?”

“She’ll be out front waiting for you. Thanks sweety!”

We back out of the driveway. Kevvy rides his bike into the garage, a hand covering his nose and mouth. “You okay Kev?”

“Fine Jim.” His voice is muffled. He hurries inside.

Mom and I slow down at a red light. A very annoying commercial begins to play on the radio. I look at the volume knob. Mom looks at me and clears her throat as if preparing to begin a conversation. I can’t have that.

She sits with her purse in her lap, hands folded over it. She sighs, attempts to comment about the weather. I reach over, raise the volume of the commercial. She stifles and returns to gazing out the window with a sad face. I think I brought on a feeling that reminds her of her husband in Ohio.

Her husband, grandpa, stands on the green, a flag sticks out of a hole with an eighteen as clear as can be on it. His partner sinks a ball. “It’s all in the follow through.” Grandpa lights his cigar and reaches over to light his partners. “Does the air taste sweeter the last two days or is it me?”

Finally, we reach the bowling alley. Lucy stands out front waving. Short, brunette, big smile, big bowling bag. Mom couldn’t just let me go. “Wait Jim. I want you to meet Lucy.”

“Great.” Now what? Do I get out of the car? Do we shake hands? Do I kiss her cheek? I need this.

CHAPTER SIX

After the bowling tour I get back to the house. Kelly is in an uproar over Kevvy’s bloody nose.

“Ma relax.”

“What happened to you?”

“A bully in his class, that’s what happened to him.”

“He’s not a bully, he’s a burnout.”

“Sucker punch?”

“Yep.”

“Please Jim.”

“What?”

“I’m going up to talk to your principal.”

“Ma!”

“You can’t do that sweetheart.”

“Your ass I can’t.”

“Then lend him one of your dresses to wear tomorrow.”

“Yea ma, the pink one should do the trick.”

“See? Now you got him using those man responses.”

“You’d rather?”

“Oh shut up.” Kelly walks out. “I’m going to get you a cold rag.”

“So is he a big guy?”

“Big enough. But I can take him in a fair fight.”

“Just don’t do it on school grounds. You could get suspended. And she don’t need that.” I motion to the door where Kelly exited.

“You’re telling me. Besides, Bagger got a week for this. And he just came off a week for smoking in the boy’s room.”

“Bagger?”

“Imagine?”

Kelly runs back in with a cold rag, immediately places it on the swollen nose.

“Thanks ma.” Kevvy holds it on his nose and heads out. “I got some reading to do.”

He gets comfortable on his floor next to the poker table and opens the motorcycle magazine. He places the note from Carm inside and begins to read it. “Kevvy. I know you don’t know me well, but there is something about you that makes me feel open. Boy do I need to share this with someone.” He gets a nervous feeling in his stomach and notices Kelly standing by his bedroom door. He quickly closes the magazine and tosses it into a box of books and papers.

“By the way Kevvy, I have good news.”

“What?”

“Guess who’s coming for a visit?”

“Who?”

“Guess.”

“Who?”

“Guess.”

“This can go on all night. Grandpa?”

“No.”

“Ma.”

“Okay. Marshal and Gwen are coming down. Gwen is bringing her new friend Jeff.”

“Excellent! When?”

“Next weekend. Are you excited?”

“Who’s Jeff? Another boyfriend?”

“Stop it.”

Just as I make my way by Kev’s door Kelly shares the news.

“Oh Jim, I was just telling Kevvy about our house guests next week.”

No! Please God no! Who now? My mind races. This is not happy news. “Who honey?”

“Better tell him ma. I don’t think he’ll enjoy the guessing game as much as I did.”

“Gwen, Marshal and Jeff from back home.”

“Jeff?”

“Gwen’s new friend.”

“Another one?”

“You’ll like him. Give him a shot.” She’s been telling me to give Gwen’s boyfriends a shot for five years and every six months it’s a different guy.

“I’m still giving her last eleven guys a shot. Where are they?”

“Jim.”

“I guess they’ll be staying in my office?” Those words just make it out before the room begins to spin. I hear Kelly speaking but I can’t make out a word. I make my way to the front door as her voice gets louder and blurrier. Kevvy takes her by the arm.

“Ma, Jim hasn’t been feeling so great. Let him walk it off.”

“He needs to grow up and let us spend time with our friends instead of worrying where they’ll be sleeping.”

“So they won’t be staying in his office?”

“Of course they will.”

CHAPTER SEVEN

I wake up in our bedroom with the radio playing. I hear a commercial that seems to be intended directly for me. “Do you have those feelings of anxiety? They come in the form of dizzy spells, nervousness, heart palpitations. Do you wonder if this could be your last day?”

I have to jump up and make sure I’m not dreaming. “Oh my God! That is me! I’m not alone?” This is the opening of the largest, heaviest, most destructive door I felt would be locked shut forever.

I slowly sit at the edge of the bed to hear the rest. It is hard to believe that there is an answer to the beyond normal feelings I have had throughout most of my life.

I grab a pen and a piece of paper to jot down the phone number given. “A normal life?”

“Are you okay in here honey?” Kelly walks in slowly.

“Never been better apple of my eye.”

“You’re not drinking in the middle of the day are you?”

I make the call.

Kev hollers from his room. “Maaaaaa!”

She turns around and heads out.

“Ma? Where’s the box my magazines were in?” Kevvy stands in his bedroom doorway.

“I think grandma has them. She was in the reading mood.”

“Oh perfect.”

“Before you start with that, why don’t you take a ride to the airport with me to meet Marshal and Gwen?”

“Sure thing.” He forgets about Carm’s note for the moment.

I stand by our bedroom door. Even though the comforting words of Lucinda are still fresh in my mind, some anxiety from the thought of the house guests takes over. How did a week go by so fast? Why do they need these friends? Why can’t anyone find a damn motel?

“Honey! We’re off to the airport!” Kelly seems too happy. I don’t want to take away from that.

“How wonderful.”

“Glad you are in favor of company.” Kelly and Kevvy hurry out.

CHAPTER EIGHT

I sit at my desk holding my pencil between my nose and upper lip. Big band music plays on the radio, a half drawn cartoon strip sits in front of me. Kelly pulls up with a car load. I notice none of it.

Kelly walks in quietly and makes her way to the kitchen. Gwen follows angrily. Kevvy and Marshal wander over towards the lake.

“That was fun.” Kelly is sarcastic.

“I don’t know why I brought him here.”

“Some of his words weren’t curses.”

“Even if he needs to get stupefied to get on a plane it doesn’t mean he should embarrass me every chance he gets.”

“You need to talk to him when he sobers up.” Kelly makes her way towards my office while Gwen continues to follow.

“If he sobers up.”

“Here is Jim’s new office.” Kelly pauses as they both see me in a trance with my pencil still between my nose and upper lip. “And here is my screwball husband.” The pencil falls to the desk.

“At least yours is sober.”

I am obviously a bit embarrassed. “Hey Gwen. Welcome.”

A loud slam comes from out front. Visible from the window, a man staggers from our car. I stand and start toward the door in anger. “What the hell is this guy doing to our car?”

“Honey no.”

“Jim it’s okay.”

“We’ll see how okay it is.”

Kelly stops herself from calling to me. “Let’s just see what happens Gwen.”

“We can’t do that.”

“You’re right. Jim might hurt him.”

“On second thought, let him go.”

“I can’t.” Kelly hollers from the window. “Jim don’t!”

I grab the man and throw him against the car. A small airplane liquor bottle falls from his jacket to the ground. He grunts and takes an aimless swing.

I toss him to the ground where the liquor bottle bursts on his back. “What are you doing to my car moron?”

“Jim no! Don’t! It’s Jeff!”

Kevvy and Marshal look on from the side of the house. Marshal laughs and pats Kevvy’s shoulder.

I am stunned but proud. “Why didn’t you say something?”

Gwen is still angry with Jeff, just a bit concerned now. “Is he okay?”

“Let him rest.” I lift his hand to pick him up off the ground. He weighs a ton from being liquored up. “Oh shoot. His back is bleeding. I better get him inside to sleep it off.”

“Not on our good sheets.”

“Kelly.”

“Sorry Gwen. It’s just that everything in the house is new.”

“We’ll cover his back with a towel.”

“Are you two gonna make small talk or help me put this carnival act inside.”

“Jim.”

“Sorry Gwen, he’s just so.” I wave my hand in front of my nose. “Did they tap a keg in the seat next to his? He smells like a reused barf bag.”

“I’m sorry you guys. He has to get like this in order to fly.”

“At least he can fly. I start shaking if I have to drive passed the airport.” One flight was enough to know that planes are off limits for me. I almost walked out of one before take off. If the door hadn’t shut before I got out of my seat, I just may have.

It was a 727 from Cincinnati to Miami. What was supposed to be a vacation was nothing but a huge stress producer.

Just before taxiing to the runway my nerves become unsettled. As usual I begin to panic and I don’t have a reason to panic. Again I fear imaginary things in my mind. I feel trapped. Sweat pours down my forehead as I take off my seatbelt and take two steps forward.

A stewardess approaches. “Sir, you have to remain seated.”

I react quickly. “I think I’m going to puke.”

Kelly, who was my girlfriend at the time tugs on my shirt. “Vomit Jim.”

“I’m trying to honey.”

“No, it’s vomit, not puke.”

The stewardess answers back. “That is what the bags are for sir.” She reaches over for a bag. I cover my mouth with it and begin breathing in and out as if hyperventilating. She eases me back into my seat. “Seatbelt sir.”

Kelly leans over. “I got it. Thanks for your help.”

I slowly calm myself and notice that we are in the air. Peaceful blue skies and soft white clouds.

CHAPTER NINE

In the morning before school, beneath peaceful blue skies and soft white clouds, Kevvy stands out by the lake with a magnifying glass in his hand over an ant hill. Marshal walks over to him.

“So what do you do down here in Carolina for fun?”

“Burn bugs, look at girls, analyze my step dad. I got a skateboard!”

“What’s wrong with your step dad?”

“Nothin. He just goes through some periods when he needs a friend. I bet if I called him dad, he’d be all better.”

“So why not call him dad?”

“What would my real dad think?”

“Your real dad? Huh, he’s in a place where it’s all rainbows and pleasure. He’s probably yellin at you to call the poor dude dad. After all, sufferin is down here. Not up there where hero firemen rest in an eternal cocktail party. You got to do what makes the people around you happy.” “Maybe. So what else are they teachin in the old school?”

“You remember last years lesson, bein white ain't cool, this year it’s bein male ain’t cool. Suppose next year’ll be livin ain’t cool.”

“I hear ya. Same shit here.” Kevvy looks down at the ant hill then back at Marshal. “I’m in some trouble.”

“What’s wrong?” He is sincerely interested.

“Got in a fight last week. The kid comes back from suspension today.”

“Want me to stop by?”

CHAPTER TEN

The class is silent when Kevvy enters. They all stare including Bagger who sits by the window with Nopoly. James also stares. He sits two seats in front of the desk where Kevvy puts his books down.

Carm sits across chewing her gum. She appears displeased and nervous towards Kevvy.

Kevvy thinks to himself. “Dammit. This asshole is back.” He looks to Bagger who is attempting to stare him down. “And now I got Carm still giving me an attitude.” He looks at Carm who won’t give him the satisfaction of a stare down. “The note! That’s why she’s mad!” He finally realizes why she has been so cold towards him the last few days. His mind clogged with Bagger’s anger, Marshal’s visit, and my abnormalities steered him away from Carm’s note. He stops thinking to himself and blurts out just as the class settles. “So what the hell did grandma do with my magazine?”

“Something you need to share?” Mr. Quinn rests his briefcase on his desk. The class laughs.

“Sorry Mr. Quinn. I just thought of something.”

Bagger doesn’t let it go. “Yea, his grandma’s porn.”

“Shut the ffff.” Kevvy stops himself. “Keep it up beggar.”

The class provokes the issue. “Ohhhhhhh!”

Mr. Quinn tackles the matter before it can spawn a crisis. “That’s enough! I want to see both of you after class and if either of you let out another sound without permission it will be more than a weeks suspension!” He makes himself clear loudly and abruptly. The class is silenced.

Kevvy begins to write an apology note. “Carm, I am so sorry. I began to read your note and I was interrupted. Somehow a family member got it when I placed it in a magazine. I am very interested in the problem you are having. Let’s talk when you have time. Kev.”

Just as Kevvy puts his pen down Carm gets up and walks out of the classroom. Mr. Quinn has a sympathetic look. Kevvy folds the note and places it in the back of his notebook. Moments pass and the bell rings. Kevvy and Bagger remain seated as the class empties.

Mr. Quinn asks them both to take a seat up front. Kevvy leaves his notebook on the desk behind.

“I am not going to have this nonsense continuing in my class. You do not have to be best friends but if this childish fighting and disruptiveness reoccurs I will have no choice but to bring your parents in for a discussion and suspensions or even expulsion. Do I make myself clear?”

Bagger has a completely confused stare. Apparently Mr. Quinn’s vocabulary went over his head. Kevvy on the other hand has a look of satisfaction. “Yes sir Mr. Quinn.”

“Thank you Kevvy. You may go now. Bagger, I didn’t hear an answer from you.”

Kevvy enters the hallway and walks to his locker.