Deamons

Chapter 18 We're the Victim part 1

We're the Victim!

"I like Dr. Peacock. He knows his business," Starke's mother says. "Yea we're the victim. He puts us through hell," Allan says. "And like the doctor says he needs to earn everything he has. Food, clothing any spending money. The twenty dollars we give him when he makes removals is ours now. That will barely pay for his food. Ooh let's stop and eat," his mother says. "What about him?" Allan asks. "He doesn't have enough money to eat out. Tough love remember? That is what doctor Peacock said," his mother answers. "Right he can wait I n the car. I don't have time to go to those meetings," Allan says. "I will. He says there is one in Glen Burnie at the library on Wednesday at noon. Hey let's stop at that pizza there," she says. They pull in for the pizza. "Do we leave the car running?" Allan asks. His mother grins, "Tough love." Allan turns off the ignition. It is a cold forty-five minutes.

School changed. If he was surging before the tide is rolling out now. None of the friends he has had for years have classes near his so he walks the halls alone now. Lunch time he all the seats are taken. Where he did sit by Craig the spot is taken by a new hang around. The only spot in the cafeteria is at a table where only black kids are sitting. He knows one of them John Caper. Sure to be the best dressed cat in the school when they vote on that thing in their senior year. He wears dress shirts and ties, suspenders, the works really nice stuff too, not generic brands.

Starke likes John. He has a huge smile that he is mot afraid to share. He is flamboyant, a generally colorful dude. "What's a matter with you Starke?" John asks. Oh man, what is going around about me now, Starke thinks. He has not heard anyone talk about him. In no one pays much attention to him at all. "I don't know John? What have you heard?" Starke asks. "Nothing," John answers. "Then why do you ask that?" Starke questions. "Because white people only sit over here when they're cast out from their own people," John explains. "Well is it ok if I sit here?" Starke asks. "We don't turn anybody away," John says," it's not Christian." Some of the other kids nod their head in agreement. Not Christian. Starke looked John over. He always thought he dressed up like that because he was gay, but looking at him again. Well he looks like he is dressed for church. "Who else sat of here with you guys?" Starke asks. "You mean what white folks sat here with us black folks?" John asks. Starke's face warms and grows ruddy. "Max Jarwix," John say. "Jarwix used to hang out with you guys?" Starke asks. "Yep, when he had all those red bumps on his face. You only have a few so something else has you hanging with us," John explains.

Red bumps, Starke thinks and feels his face. Oh, along his chin, pimples. He looks at John's face. He has some too but his pimples are just white heads. If the skin is inflamed it does not show. Jarwix is a dick, but a popular dick. He plays lacrosse well, partly because his father held him back in purpose in the third grade. Starke knows this because he was in his third-grade class. Jarwix was a bully back then. Starke almost had to fight him twice but Jarwix backed down. A paper tiger. His father's plan worked though. Holding him back a year or two had him hit puberty sooner then his classmates making him stronger, quicker and more aggressive then those he competed against. The people at John's lunch table were nice enough. A few will not talk to him but that is ok, a few do. He concentrates on the ones that smile back and mostly listens. If Jarwix launched himself to popularity from here and he is a horse's ass then he can launch himself back into Kate's arms from here. Then he sees them, and hears them. Kate with a new guy. The new boyfriend is tall and slender, a skate punk. Starke could break him in two. John and Starke walk past the pair and the new beau comments, "I won't be too cheap to take you places and buy you flowers, like he was."

Starke turns his fist balled tightly. Anger rises in him like a short fuse. John grabs his arm saying, "Refrain from anger and forsake wrath. Fret not yourself; it tends only to evil. Psalm thirty-seven eight." Kate and her beau have rounded the corner. Kids in the hall are looking. Starke moves onto class.

Anger is in the great hall now. Looming much larger than any of the gifts or deamons. Moving in on his girl was enough he could let that go but kicking him when he is down. Too much. Each thought of his is a log that feeds the wildfire that is Anger. The heat rises in the great hall as it does throughout the body. Starke is shaking inside and out. All the deamons except for Rejection scatter and hide. "Oppression!" Rejection calls out. A dark black orb perfectly round rolls out from the far darkness. "Do your thang!" Rejection sings playfully. The orb releases a black cloud of sticky like powder. It clings to only the fire of Anger. The more Anger fights it the more it clings and restricts Anger to itself. Oppression rolls off into the darkness. The black cloud attached to its being pulls Anger in tow.

The great hall is clear again. The deamons come back out from hiding. "What was that?" Mistrust slithered out to ask Rejection. "Don't you mean who?" Rejection retorted. "Who?" asked Addiction, "who is that thing?" Rejection smiles his regular coy air of superiority. "That is the deamon Oppression." "Oppression he looks fully formed. How did he get that way and when I am getting min?" Addiction asks. "He is fully formed. He hitched a ride with us when we made that last removal," Rejection says. "What the hell did he do to Anger?" Envy asks. "Anger has been thinking he is better then us deamons. Prancing over there with the gifts. Rubbing whobejeebies with Hope. Well he got his. Just like I said he would. All of you make a record of that when you think about going against me," Rejection lectures. "What did Oppression do to Anger?" Envy insists.