The Amazing Wolf Boy

Part 43 - Overhill's Overkill

The next day during World History, Vice Principal Overhill sent for me. I crossed the classroom with a sense of foreboding. I tried to catch Brittany's eye, hoping for a nod of support, but she had her nose so deep in a book it was like she didn't want to know what was happening.

I trekked down the hallway, dragging my feet all the way, and entered the vice principal's office. Overhill sat behind his desk with Sheriff Brad standing nearby. Eff sat before them, scowling.

What was going on?

"Come in," said Overhill. "Close the door, please."

I did, and sat in the chair next to Eff. My palms felt damp, and I resisted the urge to wipe them on my pants. "Is something wrong?"

Overhill steepled his fingers. "When you first came to the Bluffs, I believe I mentioned we don't tolerate troublemakers." He paused as if expecting an answer, then cleared his throat. "We are aware of an ongoing feud between you and Efrem Higgins."

A thousand comebacks clamored up my throat, and it was all I could do to keep my mouth shut. I didn't start the fight, and I wasn't responsible for it being ongoing. But here I was being called on the carpet for it.

Before I could choose a proper response, the sheriff stepped forward and opened a manila envelope. With a flourish, he laid out twenty photographs, covering Overhill's desk. I craned my neck to see. They were eight-by-ten glossies of me after Eff and his friends finished.

Seeing the images blown up with every detail enhanced, I was amazed I lived through it. My face looked like lunchmeat. There was more blood than I remembered. In one picture, my arm was clearly broken, and I ached just looking at it.

"These photographs were on the Internet," Overhill said. "Do you boys know about them?"

"Yes, sir," I said.

At the same time, Eff said, "No."

"No, Mister Higgins?" the sheriff roared at him. "I'm surprised to hear you say that, seeing how your email address was on the account."

I rocked back in my seat. What kind of idiot would use his own email to post that fairy page? Maybe he thought MySpace wouldn't give him up.

"L-lots of people know my email ad-dress," Eff stammered. "It doesn't mean anything."

The sheriff ignored him. He looked at me. "Son, is that you in those photographs?"

I stared at the desk. It would be easy to say yes, that Eff and his cronies jumped me. But then I'd have to explain how I healed so fast. Besides, I had promised Brittany I wouldn't retaliate.

A thought struck me. Had Brittany tipped off Overhill? She seemed cheerful when she said bullies always get theirs. Maybe she was trying to warn me off.

"It's me," I said with a sigh, "and it's not me. They've been Photoshopped."

Sheriff Brad snapped up a glossy. "This?"

"Come on. Someone posted those as a joke. If I'd been beat up that bad, I'd still be in the hospital."

The sheriff sputtered. "Are you trying to tell me-"

"What's wrong with your arm?" Overhill asked.

I looked down at the tape, grasping for a lie. "I was helping my uncle move lumber. I didn't want to get splinters, so I covered my forearm."

"Why didn't you take it off when the job was done?"

"I thought it looked cool." It sounded pretty weak, even to me.

He crooked a finger. "Let me see."

Reluctantly, I stood and extended my arm. He examined it for a moment, then drew a pair of scissors from his top drawer. I flinched at the touch of cold metal against my flesh as the point of the scissors slid beneath the gauze and tape. He cut away my makeshift cast, exposing clean, unblemished skin.

"Not even a bruise." Overhill looked at the sheriff.

"Now, that's mighty peculiar. Perhaps this young fellow here can help clear things up for us." He tapped Butt Crack's picture.

I plopped into my seat. I didn't want them to question Brittany's brother. Not because I was afraid he would spill his guts. I was sure he would. I just didn't want him to go through all that.

"Of course, we can't talk to him without his mother being present. Nice lady, Missus Meyer. Have you met her? I'm sure she'd be interested in these happenings, seeing how you're friends with her daughter."

"That's right," Eff said. "You can't question me without my parents being here."

"But we aren't questioning you," said Overhill. "We're talking to Cody. You just happen to be in the room."

Sheriff Brad loomed over me. "You listen here, boy. Assault is a criminal offense. I expect you to press charges and bring the perpetrators to justice."

I hesitated. Wasn't that what I wanted, to get even with Eff? But the charges wouldn't stick. Not when I didn't even have a bruise.

"The photos are fakes." I looked up at the sheriff. "Like I said."

He held my gaze. I knew he wasn't buying my story.

"I see." He turned away.

"You disappoint me, Cody," said Overhill. "I expected a little more backbone from you."

Sheriff Brad looked at the pictures covering the desk. Instead of putting them away, he straightened the rows. "I can't for the life of me understand why you would protect a gang of thugs. Perhaps they're holding something over you. I don't know. I'm certain, however, that the two of you are hiding something. If I can't get your cooperation for assault, you leave me no choice but to prosecute Mister Higgins for possession of child pornography."

"What?" cried Eff.

I stifled a laugh.

Overhill looked stricken. "Pornography? You'll never make that fly."

"Oh, yes. These photos are of a minor in his underwear. Strictly speaking, they are illegal." He looked at Eff. "My deputy is currently on her way to your home with a search warrant. I expect she will find these images on your computer. Maybe even on your camera."

Eff blanched, cringing into his chair.

I almost felt sorry for the guy. How stupid could he be? I leaned away to stay out of the line of fire.

The sheriff moved close to Eff. "I thought so. The originals. Unedited."

It was my turn to cringe. My Photoshop explanation might not hold. I wasn't clear of the situation yet.

"Last chance, son," the sheriff told me. "Do you have anything to say?"

My mouth went dry. "No, sir," I croaked.

Overhill looked disgusted. "Get out of here. Both of you."

Eff and I hopped to our feet at the same time, and we nearly fought each other to get out the door. We walked side-by-side through the lobby.

"Truce," Eff whispered.

I nodded.