I Won't Be Afraid Just As Long As You Stand By Me

Chapter 9: You Aren't Just Some Chambers Kid

    We eventually fell asleep, only to be awakened a little while later by a howl.
     "It's that Brower kid, he's out walking in the woods," Teddy told us. I really wish he'd stop trying to scare poor Vern. There was another howl. Vern started listing off all the bad things he'd never do again, like that would help at all. Teddy snuck up behind him and touched his shoulder, making him jump and shriek. Of course, Teddy punched him twice for flinching.
     We all stood and Chris took out the gun, ready to shoot at anything that came at us. Nothing did.
     "Maybe it's coyotes," I suggested, stepping closer to the guys, growing frightened as the howls continued.
     "It sounds like a woman's screams," Gordie commented. I scoffed; a woman does not sound like that.
     "It's not coyotes, it's the guy's ghost," Teddy stood up. I sighed, shaking my head.
     "Oh don't say that," Vern pleaded. Teddy began to walk towards the woods, but Chris grabbed his arm.
     "Hey Teddy, sit down," he commanded, but Teddy just pushed his index finger against Chris's chest.
     "I'm going to look for it. I wanna see the ghost," Teddy told him, shaking off Chris's hand. He was about to walk off, but a sudden howl made him jump back and fall to the ground. We all crouched down with him as our eyes darted around.
     "Maybe we should stand guard," Vern suggested, his voice trembling with fear.
     "Yeah, it's a good idea," Chris agreed, still gripping the gun tightly in his hand. Teddy held out his hand.
     "Give me the gun. I'll take the first watch." Although I wasn't too keen to see Teddy with a gun, he took it and got up, walking over to a tall tree a few feet away.
     While the rest of us got into our sleeping bags, he stood guard. He was acting like an army man, stating the time and giving us a status update every couple of minutes. He wasn't being too quiet about it either.
     "Shut up, Teddy and keep your eyes peeled," I heard Chris tiredly demand, not even lifting his head or opening his eyes. I knew he didn't because I was wide awake. When Teddy made a trumpet noise, a very bad one, might I add, the others woke up too, complaining. Even when he quieted down, I still couldn't sleep. Not with all the thoughts zooming through my mind.
     When you lay awake under the stars, surrounded by silence, or at least near silence, you get thinking about everything under the sun. Or in this case, the moon. I was never one to sleep easily anyway.
     I thought of Mom, I thought of Dad, but most prominently, I thought of Ray Brower. How would I react once I saw his body? Would he be all mangled like Vern had said earlier? Or would he just look like he was sleeping?
     I rolled over so I was laying on my right side, with my back facing the fire. My eyes were drooping.
     I wasn't scared to see Ray. I was more nervous than anything else. I kept picturing his mother's reaction once she found out that her son was dead. It kept repeating, over and over again. Her sobs were drowning out the sound of everything else around me. I covered my ears, trying to block it out, but it only got louder.

     I was standing alone in the funeral parlor. Ray's body was lying in the open casket, looking as good as new. But the longer I stared at him, the more his face seemed to change. Blood began to pour out of new wounds on his forehead and cheeks. His white dress shirt was soon soaked bright red with blood.
      Mrs. Brower appeared beside me, her face stained with tears. She was dressed in black, with a small black headpiece covering a fair sized portion of her face.
     "Why didn't you find him sooner? Why didn't you save my baby boy?" she asked me, her voice breaking. I stood with my mouth hanging open. I didn't know how to respond.
     "Mrs. Brower, I-I," I tried to think of something to say. Anything at all that would calm her down. "I'm sorry, Mrs. Brower, but it's not my fault, I swear. I brought him home so you would know. I didn't want you to live the rest of your life waiting for him to show up. I thought it would bring a little security, a little disclosure. I'm sorry," I told her. What I said was the truth. I didn't want her to have false hope that he would come home someday.
     "No! It is your fault," she blamed, staring down at me. She suddenly launched towards me and shook me by my shoulders. I grabbed her wrists and tried to push her off, but she only seemed to get stronger, "Wake up, Liza! Wake up!" her voice changed. It became slightly deeper and more familiar.

     My eyes shot open. Chris's face was close to mine, showing a look of pure worry and concern. His hands were on my shoulders.
     "You okay, Liza?" he asked, helping me sit up. I nodded silently. I knew he didn't believe me, but at this moment, I didn't care.
     "Thanks Chris," I said to him, smiling gently. He returned it, rubbing small circles on my back with his palm. I noticed the gun lying on the ground about a foot away. "Is it my turn to stand guard?"
     "No," he shook his head, "It's mine. You should try to get some sleep." There was no chance of that happening, but I nodded anyway. "Are you sure you're gonna be okay?"
     "Yeah, Chris. I'll be fine."

     After wasting a few minutes by trying to fall asleep, I stood up quietly, careful not to wake the others. I sat down beside Chris, resting my back against the trunk of a tree.
     "Hey," I greeted softly, bring my knees up and resting my arms on them.
     "Hey," he copied, glancing at me, then out at the trees in the distance. We were silent for a moment.
     "Chris?" I asked, finally finding the courage to speak.
     "Yeah?"
     "Why aren't you going into the college courses with me and Gordie?" I questioned, "I mean, you’re smart enough."
     "They won't let me," he replied, not meeting my eyes. They wouldn't let him? What was he talking about?
     "What do you mean?"
     "It's the way the people think of my family in this town. That's the way they think about me. I'm just one of those low-life Chambers kids," he finally met my eyes. I could see the disgust in them. He hated his family. The way they acted was how others expected him to act, and he felt as if he had no chance in life because of them.
     "That's not true, Chris. You aren't just some Chambers kid-" I was about to say more, but he interrupted me.
     "Oh it is," he told me, "No one even asked me if I took the milk money that time. I just got a three day vacation," he clenched his teeth.
     "Did you take it?" I inquired with a bit of hesitation, "I don't care if you did. It won't change my opinion about you; you’re still the same old Chris to me."
     "Yeah I took it," he admitted, "You knew I took it. Gordie and Teddy knew. Everyone knew. I think maybe even Vern knew," he sighed, "But maybe I was sorry and tried to give it back." My head snapped in his direction. I knew it; I knew Chris wasn't a thief. I smiled a little bit and nudged his shoulder with mine.
     "See, you are better than your family. Eyeball wouldn't have even considered giving it back," I said, "But why did you still get suspended?"
     "I took it to old lady Simons and told her, and the money was all there, but I still got a three day vacation because it never showed up," he told me, "The next week, old lady Simons had this brand new skirt on when she came to school." I remembered that skirt. It was brown with polka dots on it. It didn't flatter her in the least, but she seemed to love it. "So let's just say I stole the milk money, but old lady Simons stole it back from me. Just suppose that I had told the story. Me, Chris Chambers, brother of Eyeball Chambers. Do you think that anyone would have believed it?" Tears were beginning to form in his eyes.
     "No," I answered quietly, realization hitting me like a brick.
     "And do you think that that bitch would have dared to try something like that if it had been one of those douche bags from up on the View had taken the money?" he went on, growing more and more frustrated.
     "No way," I scoffed. She would have been in deep shit if she had tried it with one of the rich kids.
     "I know," Chris agreed, "But with me, well..." he trailed off, "I'm sure she had her eye on that skirt for a long time. Anyways, she saw her chance and she took it. I was the stupid one for even trying to give it back." I could see that he was about to break; his lip was trembling and his voice was cracking. "I just never thought," he tried to stop himself from crying, but couldn't, "I never thought that a teacher..."
     I pulled him into a hug, feeling him bury his head into my neck. I rubbed his back, making small circles as he had done with me.
     "You aren't stupid for doing the right thing, Chris. It was old lady Simons' fault," I whispered, trying to comfort him.
     "Who gives a fuck anyway?" he asked, clenching his fists tightly, wrapping his arms around me. He let out a quiet sob.
     "I do. I'll always care," I responded sincerely. Chris was my best friend and I never wanted him to feel as though no one cared.
     "I just wish that I could go someplace where nobody knows me," he struggled to get through the sentence without breaking down. I could feel the warm tears fall onto my skin. "I guess I'm just a pussy, huh?" he asked, sniffing.
     "No, Chris," I gave him a reassuring squeeze, "You're strong. You're strong because you have the guts to cry. Not many people do nowadays."