Toziette (Henry Bowers)(English version)

Chapter 15

Chapter 15

Jane hesitated a moment, she had been outside Bowers' house for five minutes now, considering whether to enter or not. The boy hadn't actually spoken to her since he attacked her in the street.

The week after the assault had been the worst for the girl. Even though Henry hadn't contacted her, the rest of the gang had taken over, surely understanding their leader's threat as carte blanche to resume the harassment.

More violently.
More intensely.

In just two days of school, she had found herself thrown against lockers no less than four times. They waited until the halls of the school were full, to push her violently against the walls, without being seen by the teachers. She hadn't counted the number of crooked feet she had taken, or the number of times she had fallen. She could no longer step into the school, without being insulted, or threatened, and some of her things had been stolen which she had found scattered in the school's trash cans.

As if she had endured, in two days, the almost two months of harassment she had avoided thanks to the deal made with Henry.

That was not to mention the nightmares.

Her nightmares had not subsided, she continued to see Patrick in her room, but since Wednesday, he was sometimes accompanied by Henry, his knife in his hand, ready to pluck her nails at the slightest suspicious movement. She couldn't close her eyes without seeing one of the two threatening her.

So she wasn't sleeping.

She had spoken about it with Stan and Beverly, now aware of as many details as Stan, and both had urged her never to go back to Henry's house and to tell Wentworth about it as soon as he got back from his home dentists' seminar.

Jane would have agreed with them. She would have even asked to go to a boarding school far from Derry, if she could have avoided the almost constant presence of the gang behind her back.

But, there is a but. There was always a fucking but.

On Friday, Jane had been reassured by the end of class. The Bowers gang had decided to skip the last hour of class, so they weren't out of high school to settle scores, or pick on weaker ones, as usual, and the girl then was able to go through her locker without being pushed around.

Henry hadn't spoken to her since they met on Wednesday, but he had left her a message anyway.

When she opened her locker, a piece of paper, a corner of a sheet torn from a notebook, flew at her feet. Before even reading it, she had recognized the boy's trembling handwriting, she had corrected his homework enough to recognize it at first glance.

The message was short. A line.

I'm still expecting you on Monday.
H.

There was no need for more words. The message was clear, it was not a request, nor an order. It was a fact.
He will wait for her.

That's how she ended up outside his house, not knowing whether to go, or just go home and hope all the harassment would stop, and the bullies got bored.

She sneered.
They had been attacking Richie and his friends for almost five years without getting bored.

She didn't want to be alone with Henry for almost two hours, she didn't want to be alone with Henry at all.

As she was about to turn around to go home, the door opened. Henry apparently wanted to go outside the house for a smoke. He had his cigarette between his lips, a lighter in one hand, the handle in the other, and judging by the look he was making, he was surprised to see her.