Chapter 58: Jonathan--Wah! Wah! Wah!

A/N: I chugged down a Mountain Dew Code Red and then the thought of psycho hockey parents crashed through my mind and grrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr! I started typing and all I have to say is DAMMIT! Let the kids be kids and play their game!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Chapter 58: Jonathen

Jonathen couldn’t say that being suspended sucked. He couldn’t say that he was sorry and that he’d learned his lesson and that he would never hit that kid again. If he had half a chance, he would corner that prick and pound him until he stopped squealing. The anger still felt fresh inside him, it still burned in that intoxicating way, almost like the feeling he got when he looked at Elena Ruiz when she leaned over her schoolwork, chewing on her pen as she sat across from him in English class. That was the only thing that Jonathen would miss about school. And that made him angry too.

He lay on his bed, squeezing Jana’s sneezing bear over and over and over. He was a bit curious as to how the damn thing worked. It wasn’t electrical, it didn’t look like it needed batteries or anything, and it was soft all over. Would Jana notice if he cut it open, just to take a peek? She probably would, he decided, and then he would get in real trouble with the one person whose opinion really mattered to him. He didn’t give a shit about those tripes at school, what they thought of him.

They all had called her liar! And that hadn’t been the first time. It was like a game to them, that they wanted to make up a story to make their own unimportant lives interesting. They acted like they knew more about his life at home than he did, and that was stupid! How could they? They knew shit!

"Shitheads," Jonathen muttered to himself, using dad’s favorite curse.

There was a light knocking at his door and Jonathen sat up as his mom came in, a tray was balanced on her arms and a bowl of spaghetti and meatballs was steaming on it, fragrant and herby. His stomach roared, and Michele smiled.

"See," she said, "I knew you were hungry."

"Yeah!" Jonathen said, swinging his legs over the edge of his bed and grabbing the tray. He dug his fork into the bowl and slurped down a mouthful of noodles, only noticing after the fact that his mouth was slightly scalded.

Michele handed him a glass of cold milk and Jonathen gulped half of the glass down. He gasped for air when he handed the glass to her. "Merci maman," he said, wiping his mouth.

"Oh," Michele sighed. "I like it when you speak French, the other two sound so American sometimes, even Jana. Her French isn’t even accented properly."

Jonathen grunted and dug further into the bowl.

"You’ve been up here all morning," Michele said in French.

Jonathen swallowed and blinked, looking into his mother’s eyes. "There’s nothing else to do," he answered in French. "What do you want?"

Michele frowned and took a sip from the milk; she turned away from him for a moment and wiped a line of dust off his bookshelf with her finger. "To see your face, I suppose," she said. "You’re not in exile."

"Sorry," was all he could think to say.

There was a sharp squealing coming from somewhere in the house. Michele smiled and she handed him the milk again. "Gigi," she said. "The poor baby, she’s still scared of the stairs!"

Jonathen chugged down the rest of the milk and watched his mom as she left to tend to the puppy. He set the tray down on the bed and trotted out of his room and as soon as he was standing in the long hallway that led to the stairs, he stopped. Slowly he walked across the carpet, past the silly little tables with silly expensive and very breakable vases.

"Oooh, precious quiet! Quit crying! Daddy won’t like it when he comes home to hear you crying, waking up his sleep!" he could hear mom cooing to the puppy. She was using the exact same words he could remember her purring to Jana when she was a baby. Jonathen sighed and glanced at the huge doors to his parent’s bedroom, they were identical to the old ones. He could still feel the broken glass crunching underneath his slippers, the sight of all the shattered vases, the sound of the screams. The anger had burned inside him then too. It was the first time he remembered being consumed by such anger, knowing that something had changed forever and would never be spoken of.

There were lots of things that wouldn’t be spoken of, he supposed. He didn’t think he could ever tell his mom about what he had seen Danny Hinote doing to her, and what he wanted to do to him. He hadn’t been mad at mom, he had seen her turn Danny away, and with that quiet, nice way she had of talking to people. She was always so careful of everyone around her, never hurting anyone’s feelings, so why did everyone want to talk about her the way they did? Why did the police want to ignore her? Why did that man keep coming to hurt her? Even that green-eyed nanny that wasn’t a nanny didn’t like mom. Jonathen could see that and it made him mad at her too. He didn’t like having that person in the house she wasn’t like Alex. She wasn’t fun.

Jonathen closed his eyes tightly and blew out a long breath of air. He didn’t like this, being at home, without Jana to tease. He missed his siblings, it wasn’t right that they had to be at school, and he was here.

There was a sudden, violent yipping from Gigi, and he could hear mom laughing. When he got to the top of the stairs and looked down, he saw her holding the squirming fluff ball as it barked in her face and growled. Dad was sooo right that wasn’t a dog. But she was a cute hairball. She looked like some silver fox/raccoon mixture that he only thought was possible in a puppet movie.

He came trotting down the stairs and mom looked up from the puppy, smiling with lips that were finally free of that ugly bruise. At least some things could fade away.

"Come on, sulky puppy," she said looking straight at him. "Come out into the backyard and play with Gigi before the day is done and you have to go to your game. Unless you want to pout and get a stomach like your father’s."

Michele stood up with Gigi and pranced out into the backyard with her, Jonathen sneezed and trotted out after her.

Bweeeeeeeeep!

The whistle cut through to Jonathen’s ears, he could always hear it through the raucous cackling and hollering of the audience. There was the calls of friends and other kids watching, and there was also the hollers of parents, some shouting encouragement and others bellowing in anger.

He stood up blowing air through his mask and tossing the puck that he’d stopped to the pasty faced, spotty faced teenaged ref.

I hate figure skaters! Jonathen thought. He was tired and really in no mood to be playing hockey right now, he wanted to be at home, eating popcorn with mom on the couch, watching dad’s game in San Jose which was starting right about now! And he couldn’t do that, why? Because the figure skaters were holding junior competitions all weekend at the rink so the brilliant dickheads that ran these schedules decided to hold their game tonight so it wouldn’t be missed!

"Great save, Jonathen," one of his teammates barked, skating by him and tapping his pads. Jonathen barely acknowledged him as he glanced at the glass, seeing mom as she sat alone. He raised his stick a little and mom waved, smiling.

Jonathen could feel himself flush suddenly when he saw Elena Ruiz, sitting right behind mom. He almost lifted his mask and yelled in delight. He hadn’t thought she would come tonight! She always sniffed and complained about hockey players taking all the good ice time and she was here! Just seeing the small shape of her soft, pink lips was enough to send him into eternal bliss... and then he thought of something.

"Dammit!" Jonathen snapped as he looked away from Elena and began clearing some of the snow from his crease. Elena was here, so that meant he HAD to come to her figure skating competition on Friday. He didn’t mind watching her skate, she was so beautiful skating, it was her bony, bitchy friends he hated. "Argh!" Was life ever going to be simple again?

"Hey Wah Wah Wah!" some dick taunted as he skated by Jonathen. "We’re all lucky that you made that save or else we’d have to listen to ya Wah Wah Wah!!!"

"Bite my dick!" Jonathen hissed. "You only wish you could score on me!"

"I’ll hold ya to it honey," the boy hissed back, winking as he skated to the face-off circle, squatting down and nodding as the ref quickly chided him for chirping.

Jonathen crouched too, preparing for the face off, and keeping his eye on the actual face off but also being aware of the prick at the hash marks.

"Lucky, lucky, lucky, lucky," Jonathen chanted in a low voice, just loud enough for the prick to hear him, "Lucky, lucky, lucky, lucky! Are ya feeling lucky."

The boy coughed and stood up, "Shut-up Roy!" he snarled, pointing at Jonathen and emphasizing the American pronunciation of his name with the hard R. "Before I sock that tongue outta ya!"

"Get back to your spot!" the ref yelled.

"Yeah, quit picking on me," Jonathen snipped.

"Wah, Wah, Wah!" the boy snarled. "Wah, Wah, Wah!"

"Outta here!" the ref yelled at the boy, "Get off the ice now you’re outta this game!"

"What!" the boy yelled back in horror and his coach began roaring too. "That crybaby started it!"

"I don’t care who started it," the ref yelled, "I only care who ended it!"

That was a powder keg, there was a torrent of indignant howling from players and coaches and fans and it didn’t calm down, not even when play started again, and woah did the gates of hell unleash on Jonathen. The opposing team was pumped up in honor of their tossed teammate and Jonathen could hear their coach bark at them on the bench, "Give that sissy prima donna a beating!"

Before Jonathen could blink, his defense was mowed down and click, click, click, the puck snapped from boy to boy to boy and snap it was behind him in the net.

"Argh!" Jonathen roared sweeping the puck out of the net and glaring at his suddenly pudding soft defensemen.

He was red now and he didn’t want to look at his mom or Elena, it was too embarrassing. He wanted to get a shut-out, one just for mom, and now it was ruined! Tonight wasn’t special anymore goddammit! And he could hear the roars in the crowd more clearly, they echoed off the ceiling and walls, pounding into his brain. They all hated him now! Some cause he was playing against their kids, and the others cause he had just let in a goal to hamper the game of their own kids!

The whistle blew again and right off the faceoff it happened before he could think. Click, thwap, through his legs and in the net. What was that? Two seconds between goals? Jonathen dropped his head into his gloves and fell back against his goalposts.

"Look at your mother!" there was a slight whispering behind him.

"Shut-up," Jonathen hissed. Those posts might amuse dad, but they didn’t amuse him. Still, he glanced at his mom, and he met eyes with her. She smiled; she was still on his side. And Elena, she had her brown hands to her mouth and her brown eyes were distressed and worried. She cared that much!

"Oooh we’re real scared of you swiss cheese!" some kid taunted skating by Jonathen. An electric thrill crackled through Jonathen’s chest and he turned around, wordlessly glaring at the kid. Showering him with all the hate he could glare with.

The kid backed off.

The puck was dropped.

Shot fired from the point, THWAP off his pad, rebound to the face off circle, snapped up and fired, Jonathen flicked his stick out and hit it, directing the rebound back at the shooter. "Shoot it again!" Jonathen yelled. Fired and Jonathen met it with his shoulder and he flung his body to the side directing the angle so that it flicked to another opposing skater. "Fire it sissy!" Jonathen screeched and the kid did, it bounced off him and one of his teammates snatched it and the whole group skated to the other end of the ice where they scrimmaged for only a spell, as Jonathen listened to the breathing within his mask, panting and waiting for it.

And it came to him again, that boy had it, he was alone, and he was coming straight at him, no one even close to catching him. Jonathen skated out a bit, to the top of his crease and then the boy fired it. Instead of catching it he blocked it and bounced it off to the ice where the boy snatched it up again. "Have another one!" Jonathen snapped.

"Sure thing," the boy panted and he fired the puck back at him where Jonathen snapped it in his catching glove and held it up high in the air, just like dad told him to.

That got a reaction of cheers and jeers from the crowd.

"You’re nuts!" the boy yelled, looking at Jonathen and shaking his head. "Just like your wife beating dad!"

At that moment Jonathen wanted to crack his stick over that dick’s face, but he didn’t want to do that in front of mom.

"And who the hell is your dad?" Jonathen said. "NOBODY!"

"And who was that lovely girl? Hmm? Have you been keeping a secret friend?" Mom asked Jonathen as they stepped out of the building into the crisp night air. Her warm, thin arm was draped over his shoulders and all he wanted to do was go to sleep. Jana and Freddy were probably asleep at home right now, after terrorizing babysitters, they were always sleepy.

"Nah, just a girl from school," Jonathen muttered, blushing.

"Does every girl at school kiss you on the cheek?" Michele asked, squeezing him and then poking him in the ribs.

Jonathen giggled and squirmed away from her. "OK, OK!" he laughed. "She likes me! I can’t help that!"

Michele laughed. "Alright, I won’t prod, it’s none of my business, eh?"

Jonathen stopped laughing and he smiled. "She wants me to watch her skate on Friday night. It’s a serious competition, mom, really serious."

Michele nodded. "I wasn’t busy on Friday anyway."

"Aw mom!" Jonathen said. "Can you just like drop me off or something?"

Michele rolled her eyes. "And then they grow up!" she exclaimed.

"Hey, Roy!" a voice bellowed near them. "Enjoy it now sissy!"

Jonathen watched his mom’s eyes slit in anger and surprise and Jonathen turned around to see some scrawny, deep voiced man storming towards them, his kid, the kid who had been tossed, red faced and trotting behind him.

"Dad!" the kid begged. "Stop it!"

"I’m talking to you!" the man yelled.

"Go away!" Michele snapped. "Before I call security."

"Yeah, you do that Missus WAH WAH! Like the cops ever believe a friggin thing you have to say!" the man yelled.

Michele put her hands to her mouth and Jonathen balled his fists, stepping towards him. "Piss off! Don’t talk to my mom like that you shithead!"

"Jonathen," mom exclaimed.

"Yeah, whine and whine and get my boy thrown out?" the man yelled. "You won’t get away with it in the real world! You ain’t your father!"

Jonathen took another step forward. "Of course I’m not you dumbass!" he yelled. "I’m thirteen!"

"Daaaad!" the boy wailed hitting his father on the back.

"What did you call me you little..." the man growled stepping to Jonathen and raising his hand.

"Stop it!" Michele snapped and she stepped in front of Jonathen and holding her arms behind her, Jonathen could feel her gripping him and holding him still. He was shot through with worry, because now she was defenseless. "How dare you yell at a boy like that! Go away unless you would hit a mother and her boy! Is that what you will do? Is that what you want your son to see?"

Jonathen closed his eyes and listened to the sniffling of the boy and the heavy breathing of the adults. He was bracing himself, ready to attack if his mother got hit.

But she wasn’t hit, there was just the sound of them leaving, their shoes on the parking lot. Jonathen kept his eyes closed and he leaned his cheek on his mother’s warm back, hugging her tightly. He could feel her rapid heart beat and he knew how scared she must have been even though she had acted so brave. Her warm palms patted his hands.

"It’s safe," she said quietly. "Come on lets go home."

"Everyone hates us," he muttered. "And I hate them!"

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