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My basement is just like me: cold and soulless. My parents are not being cruel in keeping me down here, just practical.
If Casey saw me now, it would be game over for Mom and Dad; and who knows what would become of me – I guess I would be terminated.
Mom telling Casey about me is a big deal. I listen hard to the conversation upstairs.
"Sure you can confide in me Mrs Russel," says Casey.
"Well, you need to know; Kirk has special needs. He's highly intelligent, but he has a behavioral disorder that affects his social interactions, It's called Autism. His first morning was a little hard for him, so he's taking a nap." I hear Casey begin to laugh. Mom sounds angry, "Hey, it's not funny Casey," she says.
"I'm so sorry, of course it's not. It's just that I guessed as much, as Kirk told me I was fat today." Mom is apologetic on my behalf. I knew she wouldn't tell Casey the truth. She'll spend hours teaching me what my supposed disorder is. I'll have to learn all about Autism; so as to pass myself off with this condition that affects the living. It would be easier to tell people I am dead, but Mom says it is not socially acceptable.
......
My second day at High School passes without incident. Casey is a nice friend. She tells me to ignore the other kids who laugh at us and call us 'the odd couple.' I do not know what they mean, but every time they holler at us, I read a mix of two emotions on Casey's face: sad and scared.
Casey walks to the end of the road with me, "OK Kirk, I go this way. I'll see you in the morning; hopefully the bullies will pick on someone else tomorrow, they get bored easy." I do not know what she means. I say, "See you tomorrow Casey, goodbye." I walk towards the school gym, Dad's car waits in a side street behind it. A guy approaches me, it is Dale. "Hi buddy," he says. "Hi," I say back, and continue walking. Dale steps in front of me and grabs my shirt, "You don't ignore me dude," he says, with an angry face. The wire to the camera in my shirt button snaps. I really am all alone now, Dad cannot see me. Another guy comes up on my right and together they guide me away from Dad's car and into the gym.
They lead me into the locker room, where other guys, all older than me, are waiting. Dale introduces me, "So, here we have the freak guys, the dude with more make-up on than the entire female population of Arlington High." They all laugh, I laugh with them. Dale leads me to a bench, "Do you want to be one of the guys tranny gay boy?" I don't know what he means, but just answer, "OK." He smiles, "Then lie down, take your initiation like a man." I do as I am told. The other guys surround me. I count twelve, all peering down at me with smiles on their faces, except one, a short guy, whose face has an expression of sadness. Dale says, "The freaks showing no resistance, so who wants to go first?" A blonde guy steps forward, "Me, I'll start with the eggs."
The first raw egg hits my forehead with a cold splat; the second hits my nose, its cool slime seeps into my nasal cavity. The other guys chant a chorus of support: "Eggy, eggy, eggy, eggy, eggy, eggy, eggy – egg the freaky fella!" When he cracks the 24th egg over me, they clamour to give him triumphant high fives.
