The Avocadonine and Spring Stone

  The trunk of the Ponderosa Pine in front of Pemota High had been painted purple sometime during the night. A word had been written above the double doors. As the bus pulled up to school, Rey had a minute before the bus driver, Glenda, opened the door. Rey was thinking about biology last year. Rey had learned about neurotransmitters such as serotonin, dopamine, and norepinephrine. Was this someone’s idea of a joke? Above the double doors someone had written: Avocadonine.

  Rey was wearing his Timberland jacket because he thought it might give him and Christy something else to say to one another. As he stepped off the bus he felt his heartbeat quicken. For the other students, the vandalism was the most exciting and interesting thing that had happened at Pemota High since the first day of school. Rey stood by his locker, watching a trio of sophomores passing, someone screaming, “Avocadonine,” at the top of his lungs. Avocadonine sounded like a type of medication, and it rung of an expression Rey liked which was, “looney tunes.”

  Rey’s locker number was fifty two, which he had easily remembered because of its deck of cards association, but he had no idea how Christy would remember it. So he went to sit on the steps by the door so he could catch Christy as soon as she walked in. He was so caught up in the reactions of the other freshman – upperclassmen had lockers on the other side of the school – he let Christy walk right by him. She was wearing a new pair of corduroys, and her hair was done up in a bun, which made her green eyes even more striking than usual. “Yo Christy,” Rey said. He stood up and walked down the steps towards her.

  She turned to him, and for a moment looked a little frightened, then smiled. “Hey Rey.” She looked at the Timberland jacket and surprised him with a quick witted remark. “Where are your gang colors?”

  “Oh, we spray painted the school today. So they’re outside.”

  Christy laughed. “Yeah. I’m sure we’ll hear all about it in homeroom.” She placed Rey’s backpack, which was on her shoulder, against her knee and withdrew several papers. “Your Spanish book is perfect. What ... did you not even open it all year?”

  “Basically.”

  She zipped the backpack up and looked at the backpack on Rey’s shoulders, as he took it off. “Don’t forget your homework,” she said.

  “I folded it up.” He tapped his pocket. “You didn’t go through it did you?”

  Christy became nervous. She blushed. Her fingertips shook slightly. She shook her head, looked him in the eye, then looked away. “Did you go through it,” she pointed to the backpack on his shoulders.

  “No. I thought I’d get arrested or something.”

  Christy laughed awkwardly. Then she lunged forward kissed him quickly on the lips, and said, “I like you too.”

  Rey didn’t think she’d have read it. Who would look in a pocket that seemed to have nothing in it? It wasn’t the type of kiss he’d been hoping for. Far from it. But his heart jumped. He was thrilled. “I guess you read the letter. I thought it had too much about Brianna in it. I was going to write it again.”

  Christy shook her head. “It was good.”

  “So now what?” Rey added, “Want to be my girlfriend?”

  Christy nodded. “Sure. Want to go to Overlook Park after school today?”

  “What about The Climber?”

  “I told my Mom I’d go some other day.” Christy wasn’t sure how much she liked Rey. Lying in bed last night she thought about what it must have been like for him walking in the woods with her, that letter in his backpack the whole time. She wanted to kiss him, maybe more for his benefit than for her own, but she didn’t think she’d have the guts to go through with it.

  They both felt that the house with the turret was the beginning of some strange adventure. Christy wanted to go back, to see it again, to relive the excitement of yesterday afternoon. And, of course, Rey wanted Christy with him to help solve the mystery that had begun in seventh grade.

  “I thought about your idea,” Rey said.

  “What idea?” Christy began to feel more comfortable.

  Rey reached into the pocket of his Timberland jacket and withdrew a small tape recorder. “About Huxley.”

  “Rey, I was basically kidding.”

  Rey didn’t think it was the end of things with Huxley. “But maybe Huxley wasn’t.”

  Christy sighed. “All right.” She began to walk off. “Rey, look for me at lunch.”

  “Sure,” Rey said.

  The cafeteria at Pemota High had always held the mood of a hospital for the dying – brown tables, yellow walls, and dreary lunch ladies. Over the summer, the lunch ladies had been instructed to smile, the tables had been replaced with white tables – rectangular mostly, except for four circular ones which acted like corners of a square – and the ceiling had been stenciled with students staring at open textbooks. This was all the work of the new administration, and the idea was to give the students a more cheerful place to eat in hopes that their improved mood would translate to improved marks in the classroom.

  Rey had three classes before lunch. There was math class with Ms. Lynbaker – always a snooze. Earth science with Mr. Godfrey – rarely better than dull. And health class with Ms. Parker. Ms. Parker taught health all day, and everyone in the ninth grade knew who she was. Ms. Parker said that if you smoke marijuana in high school you miss a whole step in your development. Ms. Parker had perfect posture. And with her considerable size and regal clothing, she exuded dignity. Annette was in that class, as was Fynn Chatoya, who got high during lunch almost every day except Thursday, when health was right after lunchtime.

  Rey left health a couple minutes early and got to the cafeteria before the rest of the ninth grade. He wanted one of the circular tables which only seated six. He didn’t want to be introduced to all Christy’s friends yet. He would be too nervous. Ryan O’toole was sitting at one of the circular tables. Ryan had study hall third period and always left early enough to get a circular table. Rey decided to join Ryan today. He’d barely spoken to him, except to say hello, since they discussed the Lisbon Convention Proxy that day on the bus. Now, Rey thought they really had something to talk about.

  “Ryan.” Rey sat down and the apple inside his bag lunch hit the table. “I’ve been thinking about what you said. I think I might be involved in it somehow. I don’t think you’re crazy.”

  Rey pulled out his ham sandwich and looked up to see Ryan wide-eyed with a mouth full of Jello. Rey had never thought of Ryan as particularly dramatic, but the way he talked about this one would think he was in a movie. “I’ve been finding some things out,” he said enthusiastically. “So you agree with me about the Lisbon Convention Proxy?”

  “I don’t know, Ryan. It seemed crazy at the time. But what happened at school today and some other stuff ... I don’t know. What have you been finding out?”

  “Well, the electronics make a humming sound with me but not with everyone.”

  “Like who?”

  “Do you have anything electronic on you?”

  Rey pulled out the tape recorder and said, “Show me quick.”

  Ryan turned the tape recorder on and put his hand on it. A distinct humming sound seemed to radiate from the device like an old-fashioned television that one needed to hit. There seemed to be some invisible force between Ryan’s hand and the tape recorder.

  “You try it,” Ryan said.

  Rey put his hand near the tape recorder. No humming sound. He moved it closer until his hand was touching it, and it made no sound. “Wow,” Rey said.

  “It doesn’t work with Viola Specks either,” Ryan said, “Or my Mom.”

  “Why?”

  “That’s what I’ve been trying to find out. See, it works with me and it works with my dog Simon. So I took some of my blood and gave it to my Mom so she could go near the stereo. Guess what? Nothing. Then I took one of my cheek swabs and gave it to her.”

  Rey hung on every word.

  Rya
n shook his head, “no.” “Then I got some liquids. We tried drinking Coke, and apple juice, and water. They all made no humming sound with my Mom. And they all made a humming sound with me and my dog Simon.”

  “So nothing worked with your Mom.”

  “I found something that did. Have you ever heard of a drink called Hocus Mochus?”

  “Uh uhn.”

  “It’s ... like ... chocolately, but kinda gross. You get it at natural food stores. That made the humming sound with all three of us.”

  “Jeez Ryan.” Rey looked around. The cafeteria seemed to have become populated in a soundless vacuum that was just beginning to roar to life. Ninth graders chatted about and someone was screaming, “penis,” at the top of their lungs which was standard procedure for any ninth grade lunchtime.

  “So do you agree with me about the Lisbon Convention Proxy?”

  “Ryan. I think you’re onto something. But why would it be anything to do with the Lisbon Convention?”

  “What’s the Lisbon Convention?” It was Christy. She was holding a lunch tray with tangerines and salad and turkey with gravy on it. She sat down next to Rey.

  Ryan looked very seriously at Rey. “It’s a secret.”

  Rey nodded. “Just a theory Ryan has.”

  “I don’t know what a proxy is I guess.” She opened her milk.

  Rey noticed he’d said the same thing a few weeks ago.

  Ryan picked up his lunch. “I gotta go.” He did a stutter step and then ran off, no doubt, to sit with Viola Specks outside as he often did.

  “Did you have to sign a form?” Christy asked.

  “Yeah, we all did.” In all the homerooms, Principal Laurie had had a form passed around on which students consented to understanding the consequences of vandalism.

  “Who do you think did it?” Christy asked.

  Rey looked around the cafeteria, wondering if their conversation would be private. Annette was at a rectangular table next to them and she seemed to be glancing at Christy and smiling to herself. Mike Elsetta sat at that table too. His orange hair was gelled up because he had a hockey game that day. Huxley wasn’t anywhere to be seen. The murmur of the voices almost created complete anonymity. But he couldn’t tell Christy about his connection to the vandalism now.

  “I don’t know,” Rey said. “We can talk about it at the park today.”

  “Are you mad I looked at it? I thought maybe. I was looking for a pen and the ‘Dear Christy’ part was sticking out. So I read it. I hope you’re not mad.”

  Rey shook his head. “That’s okay. I found all your spray paint. But I won’t tell anyone.”

  Christy laughed. “I was thinking about yesterday. And I think it’s pretty weird. Annette told me that those woods are protected by the Southern California Land Conservancy. And I don’t know who would build a house there. Also, I wonder what those pictures were of.”

  “On the windows? Yeah, I was wondering that too. I guess we could always go back and look.”

  “I’m sort of scared to. Huxley might have some party going.”

  “They probably will.” Rey took another bite of his ham sandwich.

  “You did the Spanish homework right?”

  Rey nodded.

  “Can I look at it before class to make sure I got everything right?

  “Sure. I always show it to Viola Specks. She sits in front of me.”

  Christy smiled. “I know Rey. I’ve been in that class all year.”

  Rey blushed. He didn’t think the moment could get much worse and then Huxley fell into a chair next to Christy and collided with the table. His cold blue eyes looked especially bright today. He wore a blue collar shirt with green stripes which looked a little small for him. “Nice disappearing act yesterday,” he said. “Like those books Rey reads. What are those books called Rey? Where’s Waldo?”

  Rey let his hand slip into the pocket of his Timberland jacket as Christy said, “Huxley, leave us alone.”

  Jason Masago pulled up a chair opposite Rey. Jason had black hair and a long angular face. He was friends with Huxley, but didn’t join in the Nadine’s Puppies activities. He was better friends with someone named Peter Laft, who was a chess master. Huxley leaned in towards Christy, and both Rey and Christy realized that yesterday didn’t roll off Huxley’s shoulders. “We’re crazy, Christy. We don’t care. We’ll slit your throat and leave you out on a clothesline to dry.”

  “Huxley, we didn’t do anything to you,” Rey said.

  “Rey needs a teddy bear. Rey, sleep with one eye open.”

  “Christy,” Jason said, “you shouldn’t say stuff like that to Huxley.”

  Christy guessed Jason was referring to what she’d said about his sister. “Huxley deserved it, Jason.”

  “No, Christy,” Jason said. “Der, deserved it. Huxley didn’t do anything.”

  “Either way. Don’t matter,” Huxley said, “We’re gonna run an article in next week’s newsletter. Headline? Answer this question: ‘Christy and Rey, how can two pussies have sex?’ We think people are going to start giving you dildos.”

  Christy turned to Rey, and Rey gave her a little nod. Rey looked around and saw that the conversation had attracted a small audience. Four or five people at the table next to them were looking on including Annette and Mike Elsetta. And almost ten people at other tables were staring. Holly North was urgently shushing her friend Liz and alerting her to the confrontation.

  “Huxley, you’re a poseur,” Christy said.

  “Yeah, Huxley,” Rey said, “We don’t ...”

  “Wait, wait. Did you just call me a poseur?” Huxley asked, shocked.

  “Did you just call Huxley a poseur?” Jason said.

  “If the shoe fits,” Christy said. “Huxley gets Der’s Mom to print fake report cards and he shows the report cards to Father Muncie and Marv.”

  “Also, Huxley sexually harasses girls all the time, and he thinks he’s a stud,” Rey said.

  “Yeah, Huxley, we want you to leave us alone. You’re going to community college,” Christy said.

  Huxley let a smile creep up his face. “I’ll have a three-o by the time I’m a senior. Besides, my Pops don’t care. He’s just along for the Huxley ride. It’s a rollercoaster, all day,” he made cups with his hands by Christy’s breasts. “All night.”

  Rey knew that making fraudulent report cards was no easy task and that Huxley’s relationship with Marv was strained. But even if Rey and Christy’s blackmail was successful, Huxley might be willing to sacrifice his reputation for revenge. Christy’s comment about Ashley had obviously hit an open wound.

  “And you’re a criminal with your newsletter Huxley. It’s called libel and it’s illegal,” Christy said.

  “I’ve got my switchblade on me. How would you like a few slits on your arm? Self-inflicted wounds? We can find a good mental institution for you to finish ninth grade in.”

  Rey saw Huxley was slightly grinding his teeth. Rey didn’t want to say anything about what happened in seventh grade, and he knew Christy wouldn’t because she knew it was a secret. Aba had said not to worry about Huxley, but circumstances had changed.

  “Huxley,” Rey said, “You broke into the Stella’s in seventh grade and your Dad covered it up.”

  “What are you a robot, Rey,” Huxley asked. He imitated him, “You broke into Stella’s and...”

  Rey pulled out the tape recorder and put it on the table. “Huxley, if you ever bother us again, we’re sending this tape to Father Muncie and then to your Dad.”

  There were a couple quiet comments from people at surrounding tables. Huxley’s jaw tightened, and his eyes lost their luster. Rey was afraid to turn around and see how many people were staring. Huxley wasn’t going down easily. “Sometimes I slip and slice to the bone,” he said to Christy.

  “We’re outta here,” Rey said.

  When Rey turned around after having picked up his
bag lunch, he saw close to twenty people staring at the table. Christy got up, picking up her cup of tangerine slices, and heading with Rey towards one of the doors to the cafeteria. Huxley sat there, grinding his teeth ever so slightly. Rey took one glance back as they exited the cafeteria, and saw most of the people looking at him and Christy.

  It seemed word of what Rey and Christy had done to Huxley was spreading fast. After Viola Specks checked his homework in Spanish, she said, “Good luck, Rey.” Some people in the hallway he barely knew said, “hey” to him. And Tim Ashline, a fellow ninth grader on the hockey team, called out “Rey Naresh,” as he walked by.

  Fynn Chatoya saw him in wood shop and asked, “So, Rey, how did you know that like Huxley was going to say those things?”

  They talked for awhile, and Rey told Fynn the story about yesterday’s encounter with Huxley, Der, and Joe omitting some details such as the house with the turret.

  After school, Rey met Christy outside. The Ponderosa Pine still had its purple trunk, and Avocadonine was still on the bricks above the double doors. Rey jumped and pulled his backpack up on his shoulders. He felt excited. Christy smiled as they made their way towards Pleasant St. They’d beaten Huxley, and glory was in their hearts.

  As they walked, they talked about elementary school, and Christy said she knew Rey was spying on her from the loft but that she thought he’d gotten over it a long time ago. They spoke about Viola Specks and agreed they wanted to do whatever they could to help. There was a baseball game going on to the right of the street and onlookers watched them walk by. “Does that bother you?” Christy asked. Rey shook his head.

  Christy said she had found a place with Annette and Jenine with a secluded bench by a stream where birds landed that one could feed. They bought a bag of bread crumbs at the park store and they both sat on the bench. Two pigeons walked towards them and Christy opened the bag and tossed crumbs. Rey was nervous but Christy seemed comfortable.

  “Don’t you think it’s sad about Viola?”

  “Yeah,” Rey said. “People are mean to her too.”

  “Annette’s right. Viola is the best.”

  There was silence, as the sun filtered through the oak trees above them, spreading a golden ethereal light upon them. Christy shuffled herself over towards him and Rey put his arm around her. Christy put her head on his shoulder, and they sat like that for awhile contemplating Viola’s Speck’s predicament, Christy with her eyes closed and Rey looking out at the stream.

  “We could report it,” Rey said.

  “Let’s make sure it’s true first.”

  “I’ll say something in Spanish. I can ask her about the marks on her back and see what she says.”

  “You’ve seen them?” Christy raised her eyebrows.

  “Once,” Rey said. “When her shirt was rolled up. They’re almost purple.”

  “Wow.”

  “You want to know why I didn’t talk about the vandalism?”

  “Sure.”

  “It’s a weird story.”

  Christy sat up and looked at him. “Do tell.”

  Rey told Christy the whole story, Aba Brule and all – Christy thinking it couldn’t be a weirder. She felt the adventure she was hoping for when walking home yesterday was going to happen. And a part of her thought the whole thing was so crazy she didn’t want to be a part of it. She hugged him feeling the weight of his burden and her eyes filled with tears. Rey kissed her passionately thinking ninth grade wasn’t going to be so bad after all.