Chapter 7
Lunch time at high school, Heath was thirteen and spent most of his lunch breaks just walking around with no goal and no purpose other than to keep moving. To the masses of peers who barely noticed him he’d spend his breaks pretending he was going to meet friends but there were no friends to meet with. Constantly moving also made it less likely other students would be able to sneak up on him and do something. As they did. As identical twins, teenaged Max and Heath were as different as any two strangers can get. While they looked scarily similar most people could tell them apart simply by the way they carried themselves. Max was loud and confident. Heath was shy and reserved; mostly avoiding eye contact. This was why Heath was teased as any other social outcast in high school was, but no one would dare cross Max.
Heath moved slowly through a corridor lined with glass windows providing a view of an outdoor space of the school property. It was a space between the gym and the main administration building where students would run around and scream when not in class. He stopped at a window to watch the goings-on outside.
Between those playing ball games, those running around for no apparent purpose, and those sitting talking quietly amongst themselves, the only thing they had in common was the school uniform. Heath saw it all. He spotted Max passing a football between himself and some mates. What they were saying couldn't be heard from this distance but Heath watched with sharp interest the way his brother interacted with his friends.
Heath could see Max say something his friends all laughed at and smiled to himself, pretending he was part of the fun. Coming from behind Heath, another student walked into him and knocked him to the ground. The kid, Scott McDowell - School Captain. He wasn’t particularly tall for a fifteen year old. His snow white hair, freckles and eyes that were just a little too close together, created an ugly child. But his forceful personality got him through life while, uniquely, not creating too many enemies. Everyone seemed to enjoy his company.
As Heath looked up at his assailant he could see that Scott was just too distracted, talking with his friends as they walked, to notice Heath standing in his way. Scott extended his hand to help Heath up.
“Sorry Max I didn't see you,” Scott said genuinely. “What are you doing up here alone?”
“I'm Heath,” Heath said as he got to his feet and collected the bag he dropped.
Scott and his friends laughed as he knocked Heath to the ground again and walked off.
That afternoon Heath took the long walk home from school having learned long ago not to catch the bus with his class mates. It took months of teasing by everyone including his brother and kids in grades below him before realising he could just walk alone and not subject himself to it anymore.
For a normal day it took close to half an hour, with a quick walk, to get through his front door from the school but this time he just meandered along the familiar path, distracted by the music playing through his headphones. He was in no rush. At the last moment he spotted a small bird sitting injured in the middle of the foot path and stumbled to stop himself stepping on it. He moved around it and considered walking on but stopped to watch the hurting animal for a moment.
A wing was extended out dragging on the ground as its little feet pushed itself along the concrete. It clearly wanted to flee as Heath knelt down and picked it up. It was squawking at him in a plea to release it but he continued on his way home with the bird held gently in his hands. He used his slower than normal walk down the street to pat the bird gently on its head. When he came upon a park bench he took a seat and continued to caress the injured animal. While speaking gently in the hope of calming it.
The bird stopped struggling to get away and rested in his hands even though it was clear to Heath that it was still in pain. He looked compassionately down at the animal and placed its head between his fore and middle fingers. He held the bird’s head gently, at first, then a little tighter until the relaxed animal began to struggle. It squawked out a plea. He could feel it trying to wriggle its tiny head free so he tightened his hold. It tried to bite him.
The crack was almost inaudible under the noise of the squawking but the bird instantly went silent and limp. Heath looked down at the tiny animal lying motionless in his hand and continued to pat it. Its broken wing no longer hurt.