Earthman Jack vs. The Ghost Planet (4 page)

Then, as he approached them, he realized he didn’t have to
do anything but get Anna away from J.C.  If he could do that, maybe he wouldn’t
have to incur the wrath of the meathead at all.

“Hey, Anna!” said Jack cheerily as he leaned against her
table.  Anna and J.C. both looked up at him.

“Um… hi,” she said, looking at Jack warily.

“Finnegan?” said J.C.

“Rowdey?” said Jack in response before turning his attention
back to Anna.  “Listen, I hate to break up whatever it is you two are doing,
but the school nurse asked me to come get you and bring you to the clinic.”

“The nurse?” asked Anna.  “Why?”

“Dunno. She said something about you coming by earlier,
complaining about a headache that just wouldn’t seem to go away…” Jack said,
nodding ever so slightly in J.C.’s direction.

Anna immediately exchanged a look of understanding with Jack. 
“Oh, right.  Yeah, I need to get rid of this headache; it’s really bothering
me,” she said as she packed up her things.  She turned to J.C. and smiled. 
“Excuse me.”

But as she stood up to go, J.C. grabbed her wrist.

“Hold on now, beautiful,” he said.  “No need to run off. 
C’mon, I’ll walk you to the nurse’s office.  After all, we haven’t finished
talking.”

“Let her go, J.C.,” said Jack, a little too forcefully.

J.C. scowled at Jack.  “Oh, hey, Fishmonger.  You still
here?” he said tauntingly.  “How’s the head?”

The bruise on Jack’s forehead throbbed at the mention.  The
threat was obvious – “
Leave now, or that’s nothing compared to what I’ll do
to you later
,” he seemed to say.  But Jack was sick of being bullied.

“Great,” said Jack.  “Lucky for me you throw like a girl, so
it really didn’t hurt all that much.”

J.C.’s smug smile disappeared as he got to his feet,
squaring off with Jack.

“You wanna step to this, Loser?” asked J.C.  “Try saying
that to my face!”

Jack cocked his eyebrow.  “I… just did.  But you were
sitting down, so all the blood must have been welling up in your ears.  Say,
that’s a nice shirt.  Did your mom pick it out for you?”

“FYI, Fishgills, this shirt cost more than your dad makes in
an entire year,” replied J.C.  “Oops, I forgot, you don’t have one of those, do
you?”

“Don’t have what?  A lame over-priced shirt?”

“No!  A dad!” spat J.C. angrily.  “You don’t have a dad,
because he left when he realized what a loser of a son he had!”

Jack had learned long ago to ignore the insults bullies used
to try to hurt him the most.  The “dad” thing was the first one he had learned
to cope with.  It was true. Jack’s father had left when he was five, with no
explanation as to why.  All that remained was a hand-written note saying he was
gone and would not be coming back.  Jack could remember his mother coming to
pick him up one day after he had gotten into a fight in third grade when
another kid had mocked him for not having a father.  Jack’s mother had told him
that as long as he knew, deep in his heart, that his dad was still out there
and still loved him, nothing anyone could say would change that.

“I may not have a dad,” said Jack, nodding.  “But I do have
something you don’t.”

“Yeah?” smirked J.C.  “What?”

“An IQ?” replied Jack.  “Breath that doesn’t stink?  No
reason to be ashamed in the shower?  The list goes on…”

“Enough!” cried Anna.  Jack and J.C. both turned to her, and
she was looking at them with the same look a mother gives her children when
they are acting up.  “Both of you.  This is getting ridiculous.”

“No,” said J.C. “What’s ridiculous is you not wanting to go
to the dance with me.”

“C’mon, J.C.,” said Jack.  “You can’t hold having good taste
against her.”

Jack could almost feel J.C.’s anger smoldering as the boy
stepped toward him, inches from his face.

“You are about two steps away from the beat-down of your
life, dumb-nuts,” said J.C.

“Actually, I’m three steps away,” Jack shot back.  “But
since I know you can’t count that high, I’ll let it slide.”

With that, J.C. grabbed Jack by the collar of his shirt,
cocking his fist back to strike.  Jack heard Anna squeal.  Thinking quickly,
Jack decided to go with his patented strategy number four of avoiding a beat
down – threaten legal action.

“Do it!” cried Jack.  “Go ahead!  Hit me in front of
everyone!  I want you to.  With any luck, I’ll find a great lawyer and own you
for assault.”

That was enough to give J.C. pause.  Jack had no idea what
it would take to sue someone, or even if he could, but then again, most people
didn’t either.  However, J.C. didn’t let go of Jack’s shirt, and the look on
his face went from a sneer to a smirk.

“Yeah, you’re right,” said J.C.  “I’ll wait until
after
school and then mess you up where no one can see.  Right guys?”

Moose, Kev, and Jimbo all chuckled.

All of a sudden, Jack became aware of the four extremely
tall, mean, and beefed-up dudes surrounding him.  Apparently, when J.C. had
grabbed him, they had taken that as their cue to get off their fat rear-ends
and join their fearless leader.

What am I doing?
Jack thought. 
I’m totally going
to get my butt kicked!
 

Sure enough, the odds of a massive butt-kicking were
definitely in Jack’s favor.  But he knew if he were to back down now, in front
of Anna, he’d be marked as a loser for the rest of his life.  So he did the
only thing he could think of – acting the exact opposite of what he was
feeling, and hoping to God it worked.

“Seriously, dude,” said Jack.  “You may not know this, but
in my spare time, I practice the deadly art of karate.  You can come after me
if you want, but I swear on all that is holy that I
will
get ninja on
you.”

Moose snarled.  Jack pointed a finger at his big dumb face. 
“And you,” he said.  “You best back up.  Don’t make me drop-kick you.”

“C’mon, Finger-licker,” said J.C.  “We know you’re not gonna
do anything.  So why don’t you take that big wussy mouth of yours, march your
big wussy butt out of here, and maybe I’ll rethink giving you an atomic wedgie
and leaving your head shoved in the nearest toilet.”

“You know, you’re right,” said Jack, taking the opening and
jerking away from J.C.’s grasp.  “I think I will be going now.  C’mon, Anna.”

Jack reached out and grabbed Anna’s hand.  For a moment, he
was worried Anna might not follow his lead, but it seemed as though she was
taking the opening, as well.  As Jack started to lead her away, Jimbo stepped
in front of him, blocking their path.

“Uh-uh,” said J.C.  “Me and Anna-bell still got stuff to
talk about, Loser.”

“No, we don’t,” said Anna, turning to face J.C.  “I don’t
know how to make it any clearer to you, J.C.  I’m not going to the dance – with
you, or anybody.”

“Hey, what’s your problem?” scowled J.C., incredulously. 
“Ever since you got here, you act like you’re too good for us or something.  I
was trying to do you a favor by asking you out.”

“Thank you for your interest,” she replied, “but I don’t
need anybody doing me any favors.”

J.C.’s face darkened.  “What’s up with you?” he asked. 
“Here I am, trying to be nice, and you just throw it back in my face.  Just so
you know, if you weren’t a girl, I’d have probably beaten you down by now.”

“Seriously, I can’t see why she isn’t already in love with
you, Prince Charming,” said Jack as dryly as he could.

Anna turned to Jack, her deep blue eyes catching his and
drilling into them.  “Jack,” she said.  “Please,
be quiet.
”

Jack’s heart felt like it skipped a beat. 
She knows my
name!
he thought, happily.

Anna turned back to J.C.  “I appreciate you trying to be
nice to me, but I’m sorry, I’m not interested in going to the dance.  I don’t
know how I can make it any clearer.”

J.C. looked around him, uncomfortably aware that the scene
was drawing people’s attention.

“It doesn’t matter,” he said rather loudly.  “I didn’t
really want to go with you anyway.  I was just trying to do the new girl a
favor.  But if you want to be a loser, and hang out with losers, then you go
right ahead you stupid, stuck-up, ugly, little b—”

Suddenly, Jack’s fist shot out, connecting square with
J.C.’s face.  J.C.’s head snapped back from the blow, and his hand instantly
went to his nose.

All sound drained out of the cafeteria as if the punch had
been as loud as a thunderclap - silencing the entire student body.  It seemed
as if everyone were looking at what had just happened in complete shock. 

Moose, Kev, and Jimbo were shocked. 

Anna was shocked. 

J.C. was shocked. 

But probably no one was more shocked than Jack himself, who
stood gazing at his fist in utter disbelief.  Jack looked up and saw blood
beginning to well in J.C.’s left nostril, and from the look in the
upperclassman’s eyes, Jack instantly knew that he’d made a terrible, horrible
mistake.

“Oh… crap,” he said.

J.C. pounced on Jack, growling like an angry beast.  His
hands went right for Jack’s throat as the two boys collapsed onto the floor. 
Anna shrieked.  Jack struggled with J.C.’s overpowering weight on top of him,
but he had no leverage.  He was pinned down, and above him, J.C. was cocking
back his fist to begin pummeling him into oblivion.

Then Anna was on J.C.’s back – restraining him, trying to
pull him off.

“Stop it!” she yelled.

Oblivious to her pleas, J.C. shoved Anna off him violently. 
Anna hit the floor hard, bumping her head against the wall, the sight of which
triggered something in Jack again.  He tried punching J.C. in the face, but
with being pinned on the floor, his blows did not have much power.  J.C.’s fist
landed hard, but Jack continued flailing away.  In the distant background, he
could hear the mob of kids, once silent, now chanting in unison – “FIGHT! 
FIGHT!  FIGHT!  FIGHT!”

J.C. was able to land two more blows before Mr. Harwood and
Ms. Jefferson made it to them and pulled him off.

Jack rolled over, his right ear ringing from J.C.’s
punches.  He looked up to see Anna, still on the ground where J.C. had shoved
her, cradling the back of her head.  Their eyes met, and to Jack’s
disappointment, it was obvious Anna appeared more annoyed than grateful or
impressed.  Jack wanted to say something witty, something endearing, something
that could possibly salvage a glimmer of good from a very bad situation, but
all he could think of was…

“Well, that totally sucked…”

Before Anna could respond, Mr. Harwood was towering over
them, looking down over his massive beer gut. 

“Principal’s office,” he said.  “All of you.  Now.”

Principal Montgomery was an
exceptionally fat man, adorned in an ill-fitting navy blue suit and a
red-and-white tie with the ghosts of old mustard stains still haunting it.  He
stared at Jack, Anna, and J.C. from behind thick, boxy glasses, but it was hard
to tell if he was frowning since his entire mouth was almost completely covered
by a big, bushy moustache with wisps of gray poking out from the rest of the
light brown, tobacco-stained hairs.

The three students were sitting in rather uncomfortable
chairs stationed in front of a large oak desk in the principal’s office. 
Behind him was a wide window that looked out over the school’s football field as
well as the cornfields of the Juniper Family Farm in the distance.  Principal
Montgomery’s chair creaked and complained as he rocked ever-so-slightly back
and forth and stared silently at the students before him.

Jack was no stranger to getting into trouble in school, but
even he had never actually been to the principal’s office before.  Principal
Montgomery began to drum his fingers on his desk, which joined with the squeak
of his chair to create some type of haunting melody that Jack imagined might be
played as prisoners were sent before a firing squad.  Everything from the noise
the man was making, to the view out the window, to the faint smell of body odor
in the room set Jack’s teeth on edge. 

A million and a half possibilities ran through Jack’s mind
concerning what kind of punishment Mr. Montgomery would dish out.  Worst case
scenario – Jack was suspended for fighting in school.  He could just imagine
having to explain to his mom why he’d gone from underachiever to full-on delinquent
in only the second year of his high school career.  Best case scenario, he was
in detention for the rest of his life.  And considering that detention would be
with his homeroom teacher Mr. Shepherd, suddenly getting suspended seemed like
the better of the two options.

“So,” said Principal Montgomery, smacking his lips.  “One of
you want to tell me what happened?”

Jack folded his arms and sunk lower into his seat, as if
hoping that would keep the principal from singling him out.  Anna was sitting
up straight, her hands folded in her lap and her eyes focused on something
other than the principal’s gaze.  Even J.C. seemed to be staring off into the
distance toward the football field, afraid to make eye contact with the man.

“I’m told the three of you were involved in a fight in the
middle of the cafeteria,” Montgomery went on.  “Do I need to tell any of you
what the punishment is for fighting on school property?”

Again, silence. 

Principal Montgomery focused in on Anna.  “Ms. Shepherd?”

Anna looked up and met the man’s gaze.  “Yes?” she
responded.

“Perhaps you’d like to fill me in on why you three decided
to interrupt lunch time with a full out brawl?”

“It was nothing, sir.  Just a big… misunderstanding,” she
said.

“Misunderstanding, eh?” Montgomery mumbled as he scratched
his nose.  “Who started the fight?”

Anna was silent for a moment.  “Honestly,” she said, “it all
happened so fast, I’m afraid I couldn’t tell you.”

“And what about you, Mr. Finnegan?” asked Montgomery, turning
to Jack.  “Could you tell me who started the fight?”

“Fight is such a strong word, sir,” said Jack.  “I’d say it
was more like… good-natured rough-housing.”

“Whatever you call it,” said Montgomery, “tell me who
started it.”

“I’ll tell you who didn’t start it,” replied Jack. “Anna.  I
don’t even know why she’s here, she had nothing to do with what happened.”

At that, J.C. muttered something under his breath that sounded
an awful lot like “Yeah, right.”  Principal Montgomery instantly picked up on
it.

“Do you have something to add, Mr. Rowdey?”

“She attacked me,” said J.C.  “Scratched my neck up
something good, see?”

J.C. pulled down his collar to show three bright red
scratches on his neck.  Jack assumed it must have happened when Anna tried to
pull J.C. off of him.

“Are you saying Ms. Shepherd started this fight?” asked the
principal.

“I certainly did not!” Anna responded indignantly

“She’s right, she had
nothing
to do with it,” said
Jack.

“Shut your face, Finnegan,” said J.C.  “You both attacked
me.  Everyone saw.”

“That’s bull!” growled Jack.  “You started the fight by
being a jerk-wad, like you always are!”

“Hey, you punched me in the nose!” sneered J.C.

“You threw a shoe at my head!” snapped Jack.

Principal Montgomery pounded his fist on his desk.  “Enough!”
he bellowed, the flabby jowls of his face jiggling.  Jack and J.C. quieted
down, and soon the only sound in the room was the faint whistling of the
principal breathing through his nose.

“Unfortunately, none of the staff saw what happened until after
the fists started flying,” Montgomery said.  “And since none of you wants to
come clean and tell me what really happened, I’m afraid I have no choice but to
punish all of you.”

Jack could feel Anna tense up beside him.

“But wait —” said Jack.  “That’s not fair. Anna didn’t do
anything!”

“Not according to Mr. Rowdey,” said Principal Montgomery. 
“And Mr. Harwood informed me he saw Ms. Shepherd on top of him.  That and the
scratch marks…”

“She was trying to keep him from beating on me!” said Jack. 
“I was being attacked!”

“No,
I
was being attacked!” piped up J.C.  “I wasn’t
doing anything and you and your girlfriend here jumped me.”

“I am not his girlfriend,” corrected Anna, “and you are
hardly innocent in all this, J.C.”

“Quiet.  All of you,” said Montgomery in a tone that
brokered no argument.  “You can point fingers as much as you want.  It doesn’t
matter now.  Unless you can all come to some type of agreement over who’s
responsible for today’s incident, you are all getting punished.  That means detention,
for a month, and no access to after-school clubs or events.  That includes Homecoming.”

“Principal Montgomery,” cried J.C.  “That’s not fair!  I
didn’t do anything!  And I already rented a limo and a tux!”

Jack suppressed a smile.  As much as he would like to have
seen J.C. suffer along with him, Anna would also be included in the
punishment.  Despite what J.C. had said, she was innocent of everything except
trying to help Jack when he was in danger of being beaten to a mushy pulp.  And
for the life of him, Jack couldn’t repay that by letting her take the rap.

“It was my fault,” said Jack, piping up.

All eyes in the room turned to him.

“It was my fault,” repeated Jack.  “I threw the first punch,
J.C. defended himself, and Anna got involved because she tried to break up the
fight.  If anyone should be punished, it’s me.”

J.C.’s eyes brightened.  “See!” he said.  “That’s what I’ve
been saying!  Finnegan just clocked me for no good reason!”

“I’m aware of your account of the events, Mr. Rowdey,” said
Principal Montgomery before turning his attention to Anna.  “Is this true, Ms.
Shepherd?  Did Mr. Finnegan start the fight?”

Anna turned and looked at Jack with her beautiful blue eyes,
and Jack instantly knew there was trouble.  She understood what he was doing,
and she wasn’t going to let him take all the blame in this matter.  After all,
he’d done what he had for her.

“Actually, Principal Montgomery…” Anna began to say.

Jack knew if Anna muttered another word, she was going to
ruin his confession.  Jack had to do something dramatic to take Principal
Montgomery’s attention away from her and prove that he was the one and only
culprit.

Thinking as quickly as he could, Jack leapt out of the
chair, and in one motion, swept his arm across the principal’s desk, shoving
all manner of papers, pens, books, and even a stapler or two onto the floor.

Everyone leaned back from the sudden shower of desk-based
items, stunned. Jack turned and pointed to J.C.  “And you better watch your
back, chump!” Jack exclaimed.  “Because as soon as there aren’t any teachers
around to save your butt, I’m gonna finish what I started!”

The look on J.C.’s face was so comical, it was almost worth
taking all the blame just to see it.  Jack turned to a red-faced and wide-eyed
Montgomery.  “What?” asked Jack defiantly.  “What you gonna do about it, you
fat tub of lard?”

That sealed it.  Principal Montgomery glared at Jack.  “Very
well,” he growled.  “One month detention,
including
Saturdays.  And you
are suspended from all school functions.  That includes sporting events, after
school clubs, and Homecoming.”

Jack sighed.  All things considered, the punishment wasn’t
all that bad.  He was practically in a perpetual state of detention anyway,
thanks to Mr. Shepherd, didn’t belong to any clubs, and his prospects of going
to the dance weren’t all that great to begin with.  The extra detention on
Saturdays was going to hurt, though.

“That’s for starting a fight on school grounds,” continued
Mr. Montgomery.  “For that stunt you just pulled, you’ll serve another month of
detention.  Including Saturdays.”

Jack’s shoulders slumped.  Two full months of detention. 
That
definitely
hurt.

“And you two,” said Montgomery, looking at J.C. and Anna. 
“Consider this your only warning.  If I hear about either of you breaking any
more rules – I don’t care if it’s walking the halls without a pass or speaking
out of turn during class – you
will
be joining him.  Am I understood?”

J.C. and Anna nodded.

“Now get out,” said Montgomery motioning toward the door. 
“Except for you, Mr. Finnegan.  Before you go, you’re going to pick up
everything you just threw off my desk.”

After tidying up the principal’s office, it was back to
class for Jack, the weight of an entire 60 days worth of detention looming heavily
over him.  He didn’t see Anna or J.C. for the rest of the day, but word about
what had happened quickly spread.

A few kids approached Jack between class to congratulate him
for standing up to J.C.  But he saw just as many pointing and snickering behind
his back.  Apparently, half the student body didn’t see a courageous young hero
stand up to the school bully.  They just saw some loser get pounded into the
ground during lunch.

On top of being the laughing stock of the school and having
every Saturday for two months ruined by detention, Jack was pretty sure he’d
blown any shot he’d ever had with Anna.  In fact, she probably hated him for
getting her involved in a fight in the first place.

When the last bell rang, Jack’s attitude was as foul as it
had ever been.  Everything about this day, from the minute he’d woken up,
seemed to be going wrong for him – and he still had another hour and a half
with Mr. Shepherd to look forward to.

Jack marched into his homeroom, plopped himself down in the
middle of a sea of empty desks, and sat slumped with his arms crossed, sullenly
waiting for detention to begin.  Mr. Shepherd stood with his back to him,
looking out the window, not even acknowledging Jack’s presence.  There was no
doubt in Jack’s mind that the man was probably thinking up some type of new and
exciting punishment for Jack to suffer through.

Mr. Shepherd stood at the window for a long time, not
moving.  After a while, Jack wondered if he even knew he was in the room.

“I heard you got into some trouble today,” said Shepherd,
finally.

“Yeah, what else is new?” mumbled Jack.

Shepherd turned and looked at him.  “It seems I
underestimated you, Mr. Finnegan,” he said.

“Why?  Didn’t think it was possible to get so much detention
in one day?” asked Jack.  “Showed you, huh?”

Shepherd grimaced.  “Anyone ever tell you, that you have a
great deal of attitude toward authority?”

“Well maybe if authority weren’t so bent on punishing me for
every stupid little thing, I might be a bit nicer to it,” Jack responded.

“So you believe it’s okay for you to break the rules and not
get punished for it when you do?”

“Yeah, when the rules are dumb,” said Jack.  “When it’s not
my fault that I broke them.”

“What if the rules aren’t dumb?” countered Shepherd.  “What
if it were your fault?  Would it be okay then?  Or would you still complain? 
Still have attitude?  Still play the victim?  Something tells me the answer
would be ‘yes.’ ”

Jack shrugged.  “Whatever.”

“Is that how you deal with things?” asked Shepherd
pointedly.  “Just shrug it off?  Act like you have no choice in the matter?”

“What do you want from me, man?” snapped Jack, annoyed. 
“You want me to admit I’m a screw up?  You want me to write that on the board a
couple hundred times?  Is that it, Mr. Shepherd?”

“I want you to start taking responsibility for yourself,”
said Shepherd.  “I want you to start to realize that you are the one
responsible for what happens to you.  Your choices, your actions – everything
you do has consequences for you and those around you.”

“What?  You think I don’t already know that?” asked Jack.

“You don’t act like you do,” responded Shepherd.  “You act
like a victim.  Like you’re helpless, and life is what’s beating you down. 
It’s always something or someone else’s fault: Your clock that never wakes you
up in the morning, the bully that’s picking on you, and the teacher who gives
you detention.  But it’s never you, is it, Mr. Finnegan?  It’s never
your
fault.”

“So what?” Jack said, anger rising within him.  “What do you
care?  All you’ve ever done is sit behind your desk and give me detention for
every little thing you can think of.  So don’t act like you care about what I
do, or what I take responsibility for, okay?  Now can we please get on with
this and skip the father-knows-best lecture or whatever this is supposed to
be?”

Jack slumped back in his chair and turned his head away from
Shepherd, waiting for the hammer of fury to drop and the punishment to begin.