Unsettling Information

Fermat had a hard time getting to sleep that night. It wasn't only the shock of A.J.'s pronouncement that made it difficult, but also the muted sobs he heard coming from the upper bunk. I wish I knew what to do to make things better, he thought miserably. I'm sure Mr. Trumbull wouldn't listen to me; I'm just a kid.

Alan, too, was finding it difficult to sleep, but for a different reason. The sounds of Birchwood were different than those of Chetwood, and the snore of his roommate - once Dom had stopped tossing and turning and had dropped off – was distracting. I hope I can convince Mr. and Mrs. Bertoli to let Dom stay. Maybe, this once, me being my father's son will be useful to somebody else – instead of just myself. He tucked his hands behind his head and stared up at the ceiling, hearing a truck go by on the service road behind the dorm. I keep coming back to Erik, and wondering why those creeps picked on him. There's got to be something there, something I don't know yet. Maybe talking to him will give me... give us another clue. He huffed a quiet laugh. Not that we're all these great detectives or anything. I'm sure the cops are working on this and will find out who's behind it. Still, it would be nice to have all the pieces in place, just for my own satisfaction.

The alarm rang in Fermat's ear much too soon, it seemed. He turned it off, got up with a groan, and crossed the room to put on his glasses. A.J. stirred, but didn't wake, and Fermat was glad of it. He showered, wrapping his cast in a special sleeve that the hospital had provided. He was already beginning to feel the itching that he'd been warned about, but he did his best to ignore it. My arm's going to look like a zombie's by the time this thing heals, he thought sourly. He dressed in casual clothes; it was Saturday, after all. When he came to the ID lanyard he'd been given, he hesitated, then pulled it on over his head. Better safe than sorry.

Pulling his outer jacket on, sliding the sleeve over his cast, he quietly left the room and went down to the lobby. There he paused, and frowned. It was still dim outside, with gray clouds adding to the murky daylight from a barely-risen sun. There was no one in the lobby; very few got up to eat Saturday breakfast, even though there was room inspection later. Fermat groaned. I guess I'm going to have to get used to cleaning the whole room by myself, he thought, looking out the glass of the front doors. I wonder how long it'll take Mr. Trumbull to find another school? Maybe he won't pull A.J. out right away...

His musings were interrupted by the swishing open of the lobby door. "Hey, Fermat!"

"Alan! Kay!"

The two older boys stepped into the lobby, looking happy, if a bit chilled. Alan, who was only wearing a sweater, shivered. "It's a whole lot cooler out than I expected!"

"I told you to wear something heavier, Pinky, but you just wouldn't listen," Qaeshon said, shaking his head.

"I'd want to take it off by the time we go shopping," Alan shot back. "It'd be too heavy and bulky to carry..."

Fermat shook his head. "You t-two sound like a c-couple of girls." He pushed open the door. "Let's g-go. I'm st-starved and I n-need to stop for my m-medicine."

"Girls? We don't sound like girls..." Alan could be heard protesting as they stepped out into the cool morning air.

"We're supposed to meet up with Zave and Dom at the dining hall," Kay informed Fermat as they walked along. "They were having trouble waking up this morning."

"Wonder if Dom is like that every morning," Alan said.

"Don't know, but Zave is only that way on weekends, when he doesn't have to go running or something," Kay replied. He glanced at Fermat's arm, waving a hand at the cast. "You still having pain from that break?"

Fermat shook his head. "No, not m-much... or maybe I d-don't notice it until I'm t-tired or something. St-Still, I'd r-rather have the meds, just in case I do n-need them."

"I can understand that," Alan said. He paused, then asked, "Did you talk to your Dad last night?"

Fermat tried to keep from smiling as he answered, "Yeah, I d-did."

"And?" Alan asked, nudging Fermat with an elbow.

His smile under control, Fermat gave his friend a bland look. "A-And what?"

"What did he say?"

"He s-said lots of things." Fermat was enjoying teasing Alan.

Alan sighed dramatically, and looked to the heavens, mouthing the words, "Why me?", using his hands to emphasize his exasperation. Qaeshon began to snicker at them both.

"Did. He. Say. You. Could. Stay?" Alan punctuated his words much as Jason had the evening before.

"Ohhh!" Fermat cried, as if enlightenment had just hit him. "Wh-Why didn't you ask th-that in the f-first place?" He paused for dramatic effect, then looked down to hide the grin he could no longer stop. "Yeah. He d-did."

"Woo hoo!" Alan crowed. He held up a hand, and first Qaeshon, then Fermat slapped his palm. "I am sooo glad you're staying!"

"Me, too!" Qaeshon echoed, his grin wide and white in his dark face. "This place would not be the same without you, Brain."

"Now all we have to worry about is Dom..." Alan began.

"And A.J.," Fermat said quickly.

"A.J.? He's leaving?" Qaeshon asked, suddenly both surprised and concerned.

"L-Looks like it," Fermat said. He told them about his and Devdan's encounter with Mr. Trumbull the previous afternoon, and what A.J. had said to him last evening.

"That's a problem," Alan said, stroking his chin. "I don't know if there's anything we can do, even if it does take time for Mr. Trumbull to find another school for A.J. I think he'd take A.J. with him this weekend, since he's already here."

"Could he do that?" Qaeshon asked. "I mean, wouldn't there be papers to sign and stuff? Would the office staff be working over the weekend?"

"Hey!" Alan cried. "That's a good question. Maybe we should check it out after breakfast." He looked up. "And speaking of breakfast, here's the infirmary. Better get your meds, Fermat."

Fermat ducked inside and spoke to the nurse on duty, who got his meds, asked him a few questions, and had him sign off that he'd gotten them. Then, ready to eat, Fermat returned to his friends.

"C'mon," Qaeshon said. "I can see Zave and Dom waiting for us."

"Y-You can?" Fermat squinted in the general direction of the dining hall. "You've got g-good eyesight."

Alan gave his friend a quick, concerned glance, then hurried along in Qaeshon's wake to catch up with the older boys and break his morning fast.

Conversation around the table was, predictably, about those leaving. Dom nodded toward Alan. "He says he's going to use his 'famous Tracy charm' on my parents."

"M-More like his 'infamous Tracy ch-charm'," Fermat said with a sly grin.

"Yeah, Dom," Qaeshon said, winking at Fermat. "You sure you want Pinky here to try and convince your parents? It may well backfire."

Dom looked from one boy to the other, then snorted a laugh. "Hey, it's not gonna make things worse if he tries."

Alan rolled his eyes, and shook his head. "Now, now, children," he said, trying to sound older and stuffy. "Play nice." He turned to the senior. "Zave, do you know if parents would be able to pick up their kids today? I mean, there'd have to be papers to sign and all."

"Hmm. Good point, Pinky," Xavion said, nodding. "We can check it out after breakfast. Won't take but a minute or two, then we can get back and clean up for inspection." He made a sour face. "Can't leave until that's complete."

"Hopefully, they'll cut Dom and me some slack, seeing as I'm moving in and all." Alan took a last bite of his meal, chewing thoughtfully. He pointed his empty fork at Fermat. "Y'know, I could try to convince Mr. Trumbull, too. My dad has a reputation... maybe it would carry some weight there."

"I don't know, A-Alan," Fermat said. "There's a d-difference between D-Dom and A.J.'s situations. I mean, A-A.J.'s just a kid. His f-father would probably take m-more convincing."

"Yeah, you're right," Alan said with a sigh. "Well, in any case, I'll want to get together with you this afternoon about the math homework Mr. Graboski gave us before we left class. You'll need the assignment, and I may need the help."

"R-Right. What time?"

"Five?"

"S-Sounds good."

The group was nearly finished, and Alan was stacking his dirty things and trash with Fermat's, to make it easier to carry. He stopped as he saw the rest of the crew looking above and behind him.

"Hey, Bertoli," came a sneering voice. "You'd better watch out; you're making Hackenbacker jealous."

"And what exactly is that supposed to mean, Sugimoto?" Xavion asked, coolly. Alan resumed his chore, trying to ignore his former roommate.

"Only that Hackenbacker told me to my face yesterday that he wanted Tracy," Sugi said smugly. "Didn't you, Hackenbacker?"

Fermat paled for a moment, then his face regained its color and became very, very calm. Alan's eyes widened a bit. To anyone who could read his friend, a controlled Fermat was a very angry Fermat.

The sophomore removed his glasses, and began to wipe them with a handkerchief he pulled from his jacket pocket, looking as if he had all the time in the world. He gazed up at Lee, a dark and tan blur until he put his glasses back on. Then he gave Sugi a cold and calculating look. Taking a deep breath, he smiled thinly and, his voice dripping with sarcasm, said, "If you choose to misconstrue my comment of yesterday afternoon, Mr. Sugimoto, I have to wonder exactly how deep in the gutter your mind must be." He paused for his words to sink in, then turned to his friends. "I'm ready to l-leave now."

"So am I," Alan said. He pushed his chair back and rose quickly, too quickly for Lee to step out of the way. Juice splashed as Alan's shoulder bumped the tray, causing Sugi to backpedal and swear.

"I'll get you for that, Tracy. You think your daddy's money and prestige protects you, but you're wrong," Sugi ground out. "And you, Hackenbacker, thinking that being his friend will keep you from being a little nobody. You'll know better soon enough."

The other boys had risen by this time, and were ready to get rid of their trays. They moved slowly and watched with interest as Xavion paused as he passed by the fuming Sugi. "I'd be careful, Sugi, if I were you. Threats like those will only get you into trouble... and as far as I'm concerned, you're in enough trouble already." Then he moved on.

"I thought you had more class than to hang around with losers like those, Lewis," called a seething Sugi at Zave's retreating back. "But if you want to take a fall with them, that's your look-out."

Zave kept walking, bringing up the rear of the small processional. Alan dropped back a bit to pace the senior. "You okay, Zave?"

Xavion nodded. "Yeah, I'm cool. I can take it. But I hope those drug tests come back soon." At Alan's puzzled look, he added, "I'd rather be able to blame Sugi's change in personality on some outside influence than to think he's really become like this." He shook his head. "He was a good friend, Alan, and a cool guy. I wish you'd known him last year."

"Me too," Alan said softly.

Qaeshon leaned in to talk to Fermat. "I couldn't believe you said that to Sugi! How'd you keep from stuttering?"

"I s-s-stutter because my m-mind moves f-faster than my m-mouth can keep up," Fermat replied softly. "Sometimes, wh-when I r-r-r... concentrate hard, I c-can slow d-down the thoughts... and e-eliminate the st-stutter." He shrugged. "It takes a lot of f-focus for me to do it, s-so I d-don't do it often." He smiled and gave Qaeshon a nudge. "I r-rather like my brain the way it is, th-thank you very much."

Qaeshon handed his tray to the worker on duty. For once, it wasn't Pierce. "It sure surprised me!" He grinned and nudged Fermat back. "You rock, Brain, you really do."

Fermat smiled widely. "Thanks."

The little group walked over to the administration building to learn if anyone from the office staff was there. The door to the front parking lot was unlocked, and the boys cautiously walked in. Unfortunately, what they feared was true; there was a table in the lobby for the express purpose of processing students whose parents wanted to pull them from Wharton. No one was waiting at the moment; the hour was still early. Mrs. Belvedere and her secretary were separating various forms, discussing which would be the best way to handle those who would arrive.

Mrs. Belvedere looked up as she heard them approach. "Good morning, gentlemen," she said politely. "Can I help any of you?"

"Uh, no, ma'am," Xavion said respectfully. "We were just wondering if there would be anyone here today to help parents check their kids out of school, that's all."

The head of student services gave him a small, rueful smile. "Well, as you can see, Mr. Lewis, we will be here all day and into the evening to aid any parents who come." She glanced over the small group, noting each boy. "Will I be seeing any of your parents today?"

"Not mine." "Our folks won't be coming." "My d-dad said I could stay," were the answers she got from all but Dom, who said, "My folks will be here sometime this afternoon."

Mrs. Belvedere's face softened. "I am sorry to hear that, Mr. Bertoli. We will miss you." She glanced at Alan. "Are you still moving to Mr. Bertoli's room, Mr. Tracy?"

"Yes, ma'am," Alan said. "I actually moved things last night; Dom said it was okay." He glanced at his new roommate. "I hope we can talk Dom's folks out of taking him from school, though."

"Really?" Mrs. Belvedere gave Alan a puzzled look. She seemed to want to say more, then thought better of it, and nodded instead. "Well, if you gentlemen will excuse me, Mrs. Burke and I have more work to do. Have a nice day."

"Yes ma'am." "Goodbye." "Th-Thank you." The boys tendered their farewells, but before they could leave, Mrs. Burke looked up.

"Alan Tracy?"

Alan turned. "Yes, ma'am?"

"Just wanted you to know that we received your father's permission for your excursion today. You can check out at the guard house with your ID card."

"Thank you, ma'am," Alan replied, smiling. "I appreciate you telling me." He gave the two ladies a little wave, and the boys left.

"Well," Qaeshon said, stretching. "We'd better get back to clean up."

"Yeah," Alan said. He gazed upward and made a face. "Looks like we might get some rain today."

"Good thing you moved your stuff over last night," Dom commented. "Moving in the rain is the pits."

The small group fell into a companionable silence as they headed back to the dorms. When they reached Birchwood, Zave and Dom climbed the steps, but stopped half way up. "You going to walk the Brain home, Kay?" Xavion asked his brother.

"Yeah, Pinky and I will do it, then some back together."

"Well, we'll get started on cleaning. See you in a few minutes."

Alan raised a hand in acknowledgment, and Fermat said, "See y-you later." Then they parted company.

"Do you need anything from the store while I'm out?" Alan asked as they walked along.

"S-Some more root beer would be n-nice," Fermat said. "And those ch-chips I like. Maybe some m-more chocolate. You kn-know what I like."

"Okay, no problem."

Alan and Qaeshon stopped at the bottom of Maplewood's steps. "See you later, Fermat," Alan said, waving a hand as Fermat climbed up and paused at the front doors.

"Later, Alan." Fermat replied, then turned and went inside.

Alan and Kay glanced at each other, and both sighed. "Depressing, isn't it?" Alan said as he turned to head back to his new dorm.

"Yeah." Kay put his hands in his jacket pockets. He was about to say something when he felt a drop of water course down his scalp, under his dreadlocks. He pulled a hand out, and held it, palm up. "Seems the weather is about to make things even more depressing."

"Yeah," Alan agreed. "And I'm only wearing a sweater. We'd better run for it."

Qaeshon nodded, and the two took off down the walkway, Kay only slightly behind Alan as they sprinted to the shelter of their dormitory.

Fermat took off his jacket and hung it up in his closet. A.J. was awake; the hiss of the shower could be heard clearly in the quiet of the room. The older boy sat down at his computer and booted it up, then went online to check his email. Gordon had sent him a page full of light bulb jokes; half of them made him groan and roll his eyes, the other half made him chuckle, and one or two made him laugh aloud. There were notes from a few of his pen pals; boys and girls he'd met at camps and summer programs when he was younger. He was discovering that the girls, for the most part, were getting more and more interested in boys, which made them less interesting to him. Mostly because they like boys more than math or science now, Fermat thought ruefully. Though, who knows? They might change back later.

He sat back suddenly, realizing - for the first, unsettling time - how his current discomfort over his girl pen pals' growing obsession with dating and boys could be twisted into something it wasn't. He shook his head slowly. No. I like girls; they can be really cool people! I just don't like to see them abandon their academic passions for romance. Then he noticed something that all at once made him sit up, smile, and feel better about the subject he'd been contemplating. Great! A letter from Tin-Tin!

Hi, Fermat,

My mother called to tell me about what happened at Wharton, and told me that you had been somewhat involved. I hope you and Alan are all right. It's scary that someone would do something like that to a kid for any reason. I know you had your share of bullying last year but this seems to go way beyond just bullying. Please be careful, and make sure Alan does the same.

For the first time since I got here, I'm really homesick. I'm so used to being able to do what I want, when I want, and I miss the freedom I had on the island, even when I was doing schoolwork. But now... everything is scheduled for me. I have to be here or there at a certain time, doing this or that, and it can get really confusing. I know that some of the other girls look down on me because of my accent, and my skin color. They've started calling me "Tahiti" behind my back. They all think it's terribly funny, but I can see inside them, and I know they mean it to hurt. Sometimes I have to stop and remind myself that what they are calling me is something beautiful – a beautiful, tropical island. I know the word itself means 'distant', but they haven't bothered to find that out, or it would be worse, I think. My new friends are sticking by me, though, and Lady Penelope does what she can to make me feel better.

Speaking of seeing inside them, I find myself more and more tempted to do... things. You know what I'm talking about, like what I did with the scorpion – and my uncle. And they don't have any good purpose either. Making some of the nasty girls trip, maybe getting their everlastingly boring cups of tea to spill on their fancy frocks – it's frightening how much I want to get back at them! I can do it from across the room, and no one would know – no one but me, that is. And that's the scariest part of all. Fermat, for the first time I can see how my uncle might have started to become what he is, with just the little stuff at first, then bigger and bigger things as he got away with more and more. I don't want to give him any sympathy, but I see all this now, and I understand, a little. I know with all my heart that I don't want to be like him. But the temptation is so very hard to resist.

I've said enough for now, I guess. Be very careful, Fermat, and keep an eye on Alan. I know he's strong and all, but he doesn't always think. You do. Keep thinking for the both of you and stay out of trouble. Write back when you can.

Your friend,

Tin-Tin

Fermat frowned. This didn't sound like the cheerful, independent Tin-Tin he knew. He thought hard for a long moment, trying to decide on what to say, then opened a reply window. He'd gotten as far as, "Dear Tin-Tin" when a voice to his left made him jump.

"Hey, Fermat." A.J. looked tired, and sad. He was wrapped up in his bathrobe, and his dark hair stood out at odd angles. "Sorry if I startled you."

"S'okay," Fermat replied. "I didn't hear the sh-shower stop." There was a brief, awkward pause, then A.J. turned to pull clothes out of his closet and dresser, and Fermat went back to his email.

"When is your f-father supposed to c-come?" Fermat asked, not looking up.

"He's coming by to take me to lunch first, then will be back later this afternoon. I'm supposed to have my stuff packed by the time he comes back," A.J. said, sounding subdued. He pulled his t-shirt on over his head, then stopped, giving Fermat a thoughtful glance. "Do you think the offices will be closed today?"

Fermat sighed, and turned back toward his roommate. "The guys and I w-were wondering the same thing, so we ch-checked. Mrs. Belvedere has a t-table set up in the administration building."

"Damn." A.J.'s curse was so quiet, and so unlike him that Fermat stared for a moment in shock. A.J. frowned, puzzled. "What's the matter?"

"I don't think I've h-heard you sw-sw-sw... cuss before."

A.J. blinked. "Oh. Sorry." He shook his head and pulled out a button down shirt. "I didn't get to ask you last night; how'd your team do?"

"We won." Fermat smiled a little, savoring the satisfied feeling he remembered. "It was a g-great meet."

"Congratulations." A.J. gave Fermat a small smile. "I wish I could see the one coming up," he added sadly, sighing. He bit his lower lip as he pulled up his slacks and fastened them, then he took his socks and shoes to his chair to put them on.

Fermat looked thoughtful, then asked, "Wh-What would your f-father think if he knew I w-was staying?"

A.J. stopped tying his shoe and glanced up, surprised. "You are?"

"Yeah." Fermat nodded. "My d-dad said it was o-o-o... all right, provided I am c-careful."

"I dunno what he'd say." A.J. started pulling on his other sock. "I doubt it would make much of an impression. He... doesn't know your father. If they knew each other, that'd be a different thing."

"I see."

"But... I suppose it wouldn't hurt." A.J. stood, and went back to his closet for his belt. "You can tell him when he comes to pick me up."

Fermat's mouth suddenly went dry. He remembered how tongue-tied he'd been the day before in Mr. Trumbull's presence. Then he thought about his little run-in with Lee Sugimoto, and he relaxed. "Okay. I w-will."

"Hey, Zave?" Alan leaned over towards the driver from his position in the back seat before buckling his seatbelt.

"Yeah?"

"What do you think about a visit to the hospital? See if... uh..." He glanced at Qaeshon, who sat in the passenger's side front seat. "See if you-know-who is still there."

Qaeshon gave Alan a exasperated look. "Zave told me who got beat up, Alan." He glanced at his brother. "He's not exactly a member of the mass media, but he does tend to tell me things that he's not really supposed to."

Xavion gave a weak laugh. "Uh, yeah. One of my few failings." He paused, then nodded. "I think that's a good idea, Pinky. If he's still there, we won't have to stay long, and if he's not, we can move on."

"Will they even let us in?" Qaeshon asked. "I mean, we're not adults or anything. And we're not family."

"I'm sure we're old enough, Kay," Alan said, sitting back to buckle himself in. "We don't exactly look like little kids. And we can ask someone to see if Erik would let us visit. If he's not up to it, fine."

"Okay, then. To the hospital."

They checked out at the guard house, then headed into New Ashford proper. The town was a burgeoning one, a bedroom suburb to the nearby Pittsfield. It didn't have a hospital of its own, so Xavion turned south onto Route 7 and headed for the larger town of Pittsfield.

"Do you know where the hospital is?" Qaeshon asked, turning back to Alan.

"Yeah, I got driving directions, just in case we could go." Alan handed up a folded sheet of paper, which Qaeshon opened.

"Turn left at the light," he instructed his brother.

It didn't take long to find the hospital, though it did take time to find a parking space. Alan felt jittery inside, and made himself take a deep, calming breath. As they got out of the car, Qaeshon gave Alan a searching look. "You okay, Pinky?"

Alan nodded slightly. "Yeah, I'll be okay. It's just that to me and my family, hospitals aren't on our list of favorite places."

"Hey, you were the one who suggested this, Pinky," Xavion said. "If it was going to make you nervous..."

Alan interrupted him. "I'll be okay, Zave. Really." He smiled and shrugged. "Let's find out if Erik's here."

They walked into the lobby and over to the information desk. Xavion, being eldest, and looking most like an adult, took the lead. " 'Scuse me, sir, but what room is Erik Tolbert in?"

The old man behind the desk punched some keys, then frowned. "How do you spell it?"

Xavion patiently spelled Erik's name, and this time the receptionist had an answer for him. "He's in the children's wing, room 304. Take the elevators to the right, and up two floors. Turn left, and he should be on that hall."

"Thank you, sir," Zave said politely, then he and he companions headed for the elevators.

"See," Alan whispered to Qaeshon as the entered the lift. "I told you we'd get in. No problem."

The doors opened onto the lobby area of the third floor, and the three boys followed the signs to the children's ward. The walls and doors were painted in bright, saturated hues; the floor was a veritable crazy-quilt of colorful linoleum squares. They found room 304 without incident, then stopped just before they got to close to the half-opened door.

"Who wants to go in first?" Zave said.

"You should," Alan insisted. "You're the team captain."

"And the oldest one here," Kay added.

Zave shook his head. "You know him better, Pinky."

"Yeah, you do. You're his teammate," Kay said in agreement.

The two track team members stopped to glare at Qaeshon. "Hey! Don't look at me!" He pointed to himself with both hands. "I'm only along for the ride!" he exclaimed.

"The only fair way to settle this is 'paper, rock, scissors'," Alan declared.

Zave gave him a speculative look. "Your family does that, too?"

"Yep. All the time," Alan replied. He put a hand behind his back, and Zave followed suit. "Okay, paper, rock, scissors... go!"

Alan brought out his hand in a fist, representing the rock, and Xavion's hand was flat, like a piece of paper. "Paper covers rock," Zave said with satisfaction. "You go first."

"Okay," Alan grumbled. He stepped up to the door and knocked first, then slowly stuck his head in. "Erik?"

"Hey, Alan."

At Erik's greeting, Alan pushed his way into the room, Zave and Kay close on his heels.

"Hey, Zave. Hey, Kay. Good to see you."

As the Lewis brothers greeted Erik, Alan winced and drew a hissing breath in through his teeth. Erik's face was bruised, and one eye was swollen nearly shut. He had a wide piece of gauze wrapped around his head, holding a thick patch of it in place on his forehead, near the hairline. One of his legs, the ankle wrapped in a firm bandage, was elevated on a foam pillow, and his left hand was also bandaged, with splints holding three of his fingers still. His lower lip looked swollen and there was an obvious place where a split had been glued shut. All in all, he looked terrible.

"I'd like to say that you should have seen the other guys," Erik mumbled, his swollen lip making talking difficult. "But I don't think I landed too many punches." He turned to his left, where a petite woman now stood. "Mom, this is Xavion Lewis - he's the track team captain – my fellow teammate, Alan Tracy, and Xavion's brother, Qaeshon. Guys, my mom, Teresa Sanford."

Each of the boys greeted Mrs. Sanford politely, and shook her hand. When the introductions were over, Mrs. Sanford gave the boys a critical look. "I was under the impression that no one at Wharton knew who was attacked."

"Uh, that's true, ma'am," Xavion said, sounding a bit sheepish. "But as track team captain, I was told." He motioned toward Alan. "Since Alan and Erik were both on the cross-country squad, and had sort of gotten friendly, I told him – just for his own information, and not to spread around, ma'am. My brother... well, I sorta let it slip with him. I'm sorry for that, ma'am."

Alan jumped in. "We were going shopping off-campus today, and I suggested that maybe we could visit Erik while we were out." He indicated Qaeshon with a wave in the boy's direction. "Kay here has something in common with Erik; he was attacked too, just a couple of days after school started."

Kay nodded solemnly. "I was lucky; a mutual friend of ours came running, and helped drive the creeps off so I wasn't hurt like Erik here was."

"I see," said Mrs. Sanford. "I think I'll have a little talk..."

Erik waved his wrapped hand at her. "Mom, please. Don't get them in trouble. They've been good to me and I'm glad they came."

Mother and son held each other's gaze for a few moments, then she sighed and nodded. "All right, I won't go to the school. But please, boys, don't let this go any further. We've avoided a lot of publicity because of the school's discretion. I'd hate to have to deal with reporters because one of Erik's friends let something slip. Do you understand?"

"Yes, ma'am." "Sure, Mrs. Sanford." "Don't worry, ma'am; I'll keep a tight rein on my brother." Qaeshon's statement was made with a wink and a sly grin, and Erik's mom laughed in spite of herself.

"Okay. I'm sure you boys want to talk in relative privacy, so I'm going to get myself some lunch." She leaned over to kiss her son on an unbruised cheekbone. "The doctor said he would probably release you this evening, so don't talk too long, okay? You do need some rest."

"Yes, Mom," Erik said. Mrs. Sanford retrieved her purse, gave the boys a small wave, and left the room.

Alan slid himself onto the corner of the bed's mattress, near the end, while Xavion sat down in the one chair provided by the hospital. Qaeshon leaned up against the wall closest to the head of the bed, sliding his hands in his pockets.

There was an uncomfortable silence after everyone got settled. No one wanted to ask the obvious question of Erik. Finally, Alan took matters into his own hands. "So," he said. "What happened?"

Erik sighed, and began to talk, sounding as if he was reciting something he'd told people more than once. "I was out for a jog around the playing fields just before dinner. It's something I do when the weather's good. There was still some daylight left; not much, but enough that the campus lights hadn't come on yet. Suddenly, these three guys just... jumped me. They tackled me, taking me to the ground face first, then piled on so I couldn't get up." He stopped and reached for a cup of water with a straw, taking a long sip, then a deep breath followed it. "Sorry. It's still hard to talk about."

"Hey, it's okay," Qaeshon said quietly. "You don't have to go on if you don't want to."

"No. The doctor said I should talk about it, not keep it bottled up." Erik ran his tongue over his lips.

"You couldn't see who it was?" Zave asked.

Erik shook his head. "Like I said, they all piled on me from behind. I got the impression of knit hats and shades, but it happened so fast, that I wasn't sure. One of them clamped a hand over my mouth, then..." He paused, and turned his face away from his friends. "...they put a gun to my head."

The three friends sat or stood up straight at that. "A gun?" Alan cried.

Erik took a deep breath and nodded slowly. "That's what they said it was; I really couldn't see it. They put this metal thing to my head and said if I played along, they wouldn't blow my brains out." He reached for the water again, and took a long drink. The boys heard the slurp of the straw, and Zave got up to refill the cup from the pitcher on the bedside table. Erik nodded his thanks, took another sip, then put the water down. "Then they blindfolded me and bodily hauled me off to this little... I don't know what to call it. Sort of a clearing, with some logs and maybe an old fire pit."

The three visitors exchanged startled glances. "The Hollow?" Alan asked.

"Sounds like it to me," Zave said, nodding. "We think we know where they took you," he explained to Erik. "I'm surprised they didn't say anything about it at the meeting – declare it off-limits or something."

"That would only have made everybody eager to go out there and see where the attack had happened," Alan surmised. He gave Erik an encouraging smile. "Go on, if you're up to it."

Erik smiled back as best he could, but the smile faded as he went on with his story. "When they got to the clearing, the actual beating began in earnest. Two of them would hold me and the other would hit, kick..." He stopped abruptly, and reached for the cup again.

"So you didn't see who they were?" Qaeshon asked softly.

Erik shook his head. "No. They did what they could to keep me from recognizing them. And I didn't recognize voices either, though I got the impression I should have. They were putting on phony accents or making their voices really low."

"Sounds as if they thought you would recognize them," Zave said. He paused, then looked down at his feet as he asked, "Did you try to struggle or fight?"

"Struggle, yes, at first. Fight? No, not really." Erik sat up a little straighter and grimaced. "I've never learned how to fight. They were heavy, and when I say they hauled me off bodily, I mean just that. Two of them had my arms pinned and were carrying me from that end, and the other had my legs around the knees. Then there was the gun."

The three visitors each let out a pent-up breath. "Man, Erik, that sounds like a nightmare," Qaeshon said softly.

"It was," Erik said. "It still is."

Alan looked thoughtful. "If they blindfolded you, how'd you see where they took you?"

"When they were finished, they just left me there. I managed to get the blindfold off, but by the time I did, they were long gone. I ended up hauling myself back to campus, where Mr. Beccara found me."

There was a long pause, then Qaeshon said carefully, "The guys who attacked were making fun of me, telling me I shouldn't play an instrument, that I should go out for sports." He glanced at his brother. "I thought at first Zave had sent them, that they were friends of his or something." He smiled a little. "I was wrong." Qaeshon turned back toward Erik. "Those who attacked Dom said the same sort of things. But... you're in sports. They couldn't say the same things to you. I just don't get it."

Erik sighed heavily again. "They didn't say those kinds of things to me. While they were hauling me off, and all the time they were beating on me, they were swearing, calling me names, telling me I didn't have the right to play sports or hang around with 'real men'."

The boys thought this over for a moment, and it was Alan's eyes that grew wide at the possible implications. He fidgeted for a moment, then asked softly, "What names did they call you, Erik?"

"Queer. Homo. Fag. Pervert. Freak. I can't remember them all." Erik's gaze rested on Alan; their eyes meeting as he said, "They beat up on me because they thought I was gay."