Sweetie's Diamonds (19 page)

“You remember, we were talking about her the other night.
 
One of those porn stars that disappeared.
 
She used to work for Aaron Valentine.”

Ellie could care less.
 
“Oh yeah.”

“I need to talk to her.
 
I wonder if she has any dirt on Valentine.
 
This could be what I need to get the scoop.”

“I'm happy for you,” Ellie said with absolutely no enthusiasm.
 
She poured her coffee and sat at the table across from him.
 

Marshall noted who was responsible for the story and said, “Gordon Walton.
 
I don't know him.
 
Must have started working there after I left.
 
Hey, I better get dressed and go to the office.
 
I want to call this guy and find out where he got the story.”
 

“I thought you didn't have to work this morning.”

“This isn't work,” he said, gathering the papers.
 
“This is
fun
!”
   

T
he following day all the major Chicago newspapers reported what had been in the
National Enquirer
.
 
Diane simply put on a good face, got David ready for school, and went to Lincoln High prepared to face whatever degradation might be thrown her way.
 
So caught up in her own torment that she didn't consider what could happen to her son.

David had spent the first day after the
Enquirer
news broke anxious and distracted.
 
He wanted to confront Billy about the videotape but ultimately decided to wait.
 
However, on the second day, he knew he couldn't delay any longer.
 
His mother was in trouble and was visibly upset.
 
He still didn't know whether or not to believe her story that the accusations were false but what mattered was to get to the bottom of how it all got out.
 

“Billy,” he said as the two boys sat down for lunch in the school cafeteria.
 
No one else had joined the table yet so David felt as comfortable as he could possibly be before bringing up the subject.
 
“Did you tell your dad about my mom in that videotape?”

Billy looked at him with wide, defensive eyes.
 
“No, man,” he answered.
 
“Of course not!”

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah, I'm sure.
 
What do you mean?
 
I told you I wouldn't tell anyone.”

“It's just that someone found out about it and my mom thinks your dad may have had something to do with it.”

“My
dad
?
 
He doesn't even
like
your mom!”

“Exactly my point,” David said.
 

“I can't believe you'd say that, David,” his friend said, frowning.
 
He looked away and concentrated on his lunch.
 
David could usually read Billy pretty well and he could see that something wasn't right.
 

“Look, I just want to find out what happened, that's all,” David said.
 
“My mom is in a lot of trouble.
 
She could lose her job.”

Billy looked up and spat, “So you're blaming
me
?
 
Typical, Boston.
 
Your best friend.
 
Your
only
friend, from what I can see.”

“Billy—”

“I'll see you later.”
 
Billy got up with the remains of his lunch and left the cafeteria.
 
David didn't bother going after him.
 
Instead he finished his own meal as other kids reluctantly took seats at his table.
 
Sitting with the freaky tall, skinny boy with thick glasses was a last resort when no other chairs were empty.

A
fter school David avoided Billy and started the walk home without him.
 
The rest of the day had been a blur because he was so upset.
 
In retrospect, David suspected that Billy had lied to him.
 
He knew his friend well enough to figure it out.
 
At the time David wanted to believe him and was thus blinded by his loyalty.
 
Looking back at the incident, David could see that Billy had shown all the telltale signs of deceit.
 

David got just beyond the school parking lot and thought he was clear of running into anyone he knew.
 
Fortunately, no one had said anything about his mother.
 
Perhaps they didn't read the newspaper.
 
People would know soon enough, though.
 

He kicked a long forgotten empty soda can ahead of him and planned to make a game out of it for at least another block when he heard the dreaded voice.

“Hey, Porno Boy!
 
You!
 
I'm talking to you, Boston!”

David crumpled inwardly but kept walking as if he hadn't heard.
 

“Hey!
 
What's the matter, you deaf?”
 
Matt Shamrock's lumbering presence approached David from behind.
 
The bully's massive hand grabbed David's backpack and held on.
 

“Let go, Shamrock,” David said.
 
“I have to get home.”

“What for, so you can watch your mom suck some dicks?”

David whirled around and barked, “Shut up!”
 
Then he saw that Shamrock had brought along two of his henchmen.

“Whoa, big tough porno boy!
 
You going to make me?
 
Or are you going to get your porno star mom to lick me?
 
Get it?
 
Lick
me?”
 
He laughed at his sick joke and stood his ground.
 
David was certainly taller than the lummox but he knew he was no match for the boy's strength.
 

That didn't stop David from taking a swing at the creep.
 
His fist landed hard on Matt Shamrock's chin, taking him by surprise.
 
The bully jerked back, blinked several times, and rubbed his jaw.
 
David had actually hurt him!
 
If he had been a more experienced boxer David would have known to take advantage of his opponent's confusion and gone on the offensive with more punches.
 
Unfortunately, David, being the timid and insecure boy that he was, stopped right there and wanted no more to do with the fight.
 
The sudden rush of adrenaline had also set his heart pounding.
 
It was the uncomfortable sensation of tachycardia his doctors had warned him about.
 
He needed to sit down and catch his breath.

Matt Shamrock didn't share David's sentiment for pacification and came at David with everything he had.
 
A punch to the stomach and a blow to the face sent David tumbling to the sidewalk.
 
He fell on top of his backpack, cushioning the descent somewhat, but the straps painfully jerked his shoulder joints.
 

David saw stars.
 
His heart raced and the wind was knocked out of him.
 
He gasped for breath and at the same time fought to regain control of his heart rate.
 
Matt Shamrock stood over him, beckoning him to get up but the image was blurry.
 
David's hand involuntarily went up to his face and he realized that his glasses had been dislodged.

“Come on, you freak.
 
Let's finish this!” the bully yelled.
 
“It's clobberin' time!”

David wheezed loudly, attempting to draw in air as the light around him dimmed.
 
The figure above him tilted and the sky beyond him rotated in the opposite direction.
 
He thought he heard voices shouting around him but they soon faded into oblivion along with his consciousness.

D
avid became fully cognizant in the nurse's station inside the school.
 
He vaguely remembered regaining his senses on the sidewalk and was aware that a group of kids had gathered around the scuffle.
 
Then Coach Driggers appeared and broke up the mob.
 
David heard the coach order Matt Shamrock to report to the office immediately and then the man's voice was closer.
 

“David?
 
Are you all right?”

David didn't remember what was said but the coach helped him stand and together they went back to the school.
 
Along the way David heard some of the kids' comments.

“Wow, Matt Shamrock knocked out David Boston!”
 

“Did you see Shamrock knock the crap out of Boston?”

“Shamrock KO'd David Boston!”

David wanted to protest.
 
Matt Shamrock didn't knock him out.
 
He had fainted.
 
His heart rate had increased to the danger level and his condition of aortic regurgitation reduced the flow of oxygen to his brain.
 
He had passed out, which was the body's way of protecting itself from over-exertion.
 

As school nurse Miss Hatchins examined him, he overhead the coach and the principal talking a few feet away.
 

“Should he go to the hospital?”

“What do you think, Miss Hatchins?”

David did
not
want to go to the hospital under any circumstances.
 
If his doctor had known that he had fainted from over-exertion, he'd be in serious trouble.
 
The last time this happened they admitted him to run some “tests” and he ended up staying in the hospital for two horrible nights.
 
His mother would be worried sick and he would have to eat that crappy food.
 
No way.
 
Better to throw the blame elsewhere.

“I don't need to go to the hospital,” David said.
 
“Shamrock got in a lucky punch, that's all.
 
I guess he knocked me out for a second.”

“What were you two fighting about, David?” the principal asked.

“He said something about my mother,” David replied.
 

The coach tapped the principal on the shoulder and pulled him to the corner of the room.
 
David heard the coach murmuring but the word “newspaper” was the only thing that was discernible.
 
The principal looked at David grimly and then came back to him.
 

“All right, David, we'll deal with Mister Shamrock.
 
In the meantime I think we should get you a ride home.
 
Shall we call your mother?”

“That's okay, I can walk home.”

The nurse spoke up.
 
“I don't want you walking home.
 
You had a nasty blow.
 
You need to rest a while.
 
Maybe even stay home from school tomorrow.”

“That's not necessary,” David said.
 
He really was feeling much better.
 
The spot on his cheek where Shamrock hit him barely stung.
 
He was certain that the punch he had given his nemesis hurt far worse.
 

“We'll call your mom anyway,” the principal said.
 

“She won't be there,” David remembered.
 
“She has a meeting at the high school this afternoon.”
 
His mother had warned him that she'd be home a little later than usual.
 

“What about your father?” the nurse asked.

“He's probably at work.”

“We'll give him a call.”

It was 4:30 by the time Greg Boston arrived at the middle school to pick up his son.
 
He was not in a good mood.
 
David carried his backpack and threw it into the back of his father's Jaguar and got in the passenger seat.