Two guys followed Chris for sure,
but he thought there might be more, so he quickened his pace. He reached into the long pockets of his overcoat,
feeling around for his knife, but he remembered that he had left it on his desk,
so that his mom would not discover it in her new routine of checking his
pockets. Instead of the knife, he felt
the stumpy, fold-up umbrella that his Abuela had given him for his birthday. It was designed for a ninety-year-old, with
an automatic-open feature and a slip-proof handle, but Chris knew he could use
it as a weapon if he had to.
He passed
the pretzel shop, the cookie kiosk, the Music-Stop (blaring Taylor Swift); he
ignored the aproned girl trying to hand him a flier at the American Girl
store. The mall’s automatic doors were
within sight, but he could hear the clicking of anxious footsteps behind him,
as if his followers were running. He
turned to face them.
He saw
them—Eddie and his crew. They had tried
to corner him in the bathroom that same day at school, after they discovered he
was using the bathroom stall to urinate.
His heart thumped heavily in his chest –then and now.
“Hey, Chris!”
Eddie Young hollered. “Wait up!” Eddie wanted to appear friendly –maybe for
the security tape—but his face was scarred with hatred and his crew had
identical, hungry expressions. Chris knew
they wanted to force him into a dark corner outside and rearrange his
face. Their task had been curtailed
earlier and they seemed driven to finish what they started.
Chris
stopped, scanning the halls for any security or person of authority. Only the aproned girl handing out fliers was
there, but she just stared at the scene as if she were watching a movie. He withdrew the umbrella from his pocket and
held it high above his head with his right hand. “Stay
right there,” Chris said, his voice sounding high and nervous. “Just….”
“Just
what…?” Devon shrieked with laughter.
His cronies burst out laughing too.
“Just let me be a girl-boy or I’ll hit you with my umbrella?”
Chris
started to sway in panic, and then suddenly—without warning—the umbrella
opened.
+++
The trip
to the mall was Mom’s idea, after she heard about the bathroom scene. Chris hated telling her, especially since the
year had been riddled with uncertainty.
The return to school had been a risk, after the haircut, the wardrobe
change, the decision live his life as a male.
Even with the most supportive family, Chris knew that real acceptance
would have to come from his peers—the ones with the true power to accept or
reject him.
“Did you
tell a teacher?” Mom asked him.
“No.”
“Why
not? Do you just want them to get away
with it?”
Chris
didn’t say anything. He was trying to
keep the real horror to himself. He was
ashamed of his peculiar dilemma—and the words the boys used that afternoon:
“Why not come out here?” one of them yelled.
“Whip it out in front of the rest of us!”
“Yeah, we’re all guys, aren’t we?”
There
was laughter and pounding on the door as Chris yelled for them to leave. Eddie hoisted himself up on the metal
swinging door, peering over at Chris as he sat down.
“I see her bush!” he yelled.
“Chris?”
Mom’s voice broke him out of his trance.
“Answer me. Do you want them to
get away with it?”
“No.”
“That’s
what I thought! I’m calling the
principal right now,” Mom picked up her phone. “I’m not going to stand back and watch my…” Chris reached for her hand.
“Mom,
please don’t,” he sighed. “There’s only
so much she can do.” Mom was seething,
but she looked at Chris carefully. His close-cropped hair had been dyed blue and
green. His face, just the same as his
father’s was worried, but resigned to such terrible treatment. She put her hand on his shoulder.
“Want to
go get some ice cream at the mall?”
Chris
nodded. “Okay, that sounds good.”
The trip
to the mall was longer than what Chris felt like. His music wasn’t connecting to the
stereo. By the time they arrived, it was
pouring down rain.
“Would
you mind if I just walked around by myself?” Chris asked, almost
apologetically. “I think I just need
some air. He waited for her reaction as
she pulled her hands from the steering wheel.
She turned to him, dejected.
“Are you
serious?” she asked. “I thought we were
going to have ice cream. It’s why we came all the way here.”
“I think
I need to just be alone. And I don’t
have my license. Maybe you can wait a
few minutes and then come in…”
“Oh,
just go!” Mom said, reaching behind her and pulling his overcoat into the front
seat. With ninja speed, she checked the
pockets for questionable items. She
handed it to him and he put it on.
“Sorry,
Mom,” he said as he climbed out of the van.
Mom hollered something as he shut the door. He walked slowly to the
mall, even though he was getting drenched in the rain. It
was refreshing and cleansing in a way.
+++
As soon
as the umbrella opened, Chris jumped.
From the inside, transparent balls, like bubbles, fell to the
ground slowly. Time stood still as Chris
watched the bubbles, which slowly took shape into figures. The bubbles elongated into translucent bodies that stretched
and grew arms and legs. The bodies
became human—bipedal—and their translucent surfaces became flesh. Seven people now stood next to Chris. As suddenly as it happened, time became real
again and Chris dropped the umbrella.
The
figures of the umbrella crew were varied in height and size. Two tall black men, dressed in the wrappings
of Maasai warriors, carried clubs and stood, stoically, next to Chris. Two other men, dressed in tartan kilts, ran out
the mall doors with great speed. Three
young girls, holding lambs, knelt at his feet.
A man who looked like their father put his hand on Chris’ shoulder and
then turned for the door. At Chris’
elbow, a small man dressed in a long robe stepped forward and picked up the
umbrella, which was spinning like a top on the polished marble floor.
“What
the…?” Eddie whispered. The rest of his
crew stood still, as if frozen or in shock.
The
little man lifted his hand to Eddie and spoke.
“You have no business with this one! Leave him be and move along.”
Eddie appeared
to be unable to move. His face looked
boyish now, as if he were twelve or eleven, rather than sixteen. The other boys gawked at the figures, as if a
Marvel comic had exploded with superheroes and they were there to watch.
“I said,
be on your way, you lazy Cretans!” the small man yelled at them. This seemed to wake the boys out of their
trance. Without a word, the crew turned
and walked away, like wounded children that had been denied a privilege.
Chris watched them, and then turned to the
small man, who struggled with the umbrella.
Chris took it from him and folded it back up. As he snapped the band in
place, the two Maasai warriors looked curiously at the folded umbrella.
“They
will not bother you again, not with this magic.”
Chris
shrugged and smiled, “I doubt it.”
He felt
the hand of the tall man on his shoulder, but when he looked up, a strong light
blinded him. He heard a gentle voice
whisper: “Your mother is probably worried about you.”
Chris
nodded, and turned to walk toward the doors again. As they opened, he turned back toward the
ramshackle crew, but the only one in the hallway was the aproned girl who had
been watching him. Her eyes were wide; her fliers were scattered about her feet.
As he
walked into the rain, he opened the umbrella again. Rain pelted hard against it, but Chris stayed
dry underneath. For a moment, he forgot
where his mom had parked the van. When
he found it, he saw her figure: reading a book by the overhead light. She looked peaceful and rested. Chris was suddenly overcome by emotion.
As he
opened the car, he smiled at her.
“Want to
come with me to get ice cream?”
Mom
looked at him carefully, as he held the umbrella high above the door. She closed her book and nodded.
“I’ll
come if you promise to share that umbrella,” she said. “It’s really coming down hard.”
“You’re
telling me.”
They greeted
the wide-eyed, aproned American Girl employee as they walked past her,
wondering if it was too late to catch a movie.