Mr. Hess was the math teacher.
When I showed up, he did not ask me about homework, he did not call on me to answer question or do work on the board. He counted himself lucky that I came to class and was not disruptive, and hoped that I might pick something up from what he was trying to teach.
About thirty minutes in a folded note was tossed on my desk. Mr. Hess was involved at the black board, so he did not see me open it.
Casey, my parents are gone from Wednesday to Friday. I have the house to myself. I want you to come by. Bradley won't bother us because of practice and homework on a weeknight. T.M.
Traci Moore was a pretty little popular rich girl that loved to look at herself in the mirror. She loved to fuck cowgirl, because it made it easier for her to watch herself. Bradley was her swim team captain boyfriend. He also, so I have been told by Traci, likes to fuck doggy because he likes to watch himself in the mirror too.
Traci was entertaining in small doses. The thought of over night alone with her in her parents empty house was not very appealing. She was at the front row of the classroom, kitty corner from me. She glanced over, tossing her long dark hair. I shook my head and crumpled up her note and tossed it in the can a few feet away.
She pouted, sticking out her lip and making puppy eyes, which usually got her what she wanted, except from me, which was one of the things that kept her coming back to me. She huffed and turned away.
Her friend, Julie Preston, leaned over and whispered something quick in her ear. They both giggled quietly, looked at me and then Traci wrote another note.
The new note said, Julie says that she can be there too...
That could change things, as then they could talk to each other instead of me, to leave me free to drink her father's expensive imported beer and single malt scotch.
I made a show of taking a big breath and letting out a deep sigh, as if she had worn me down in some intense negotiations, and nodded yes.
They had their heads together whispering when Mr. Hess asked Traci if she would please share with the class what they were talking about, or... come up to the board and solve the problem he had just finished explaining. She slowly got up and went to the board.
The weight room was not mine alone, though, when I wanted to be by myself I could usually find it empty except for 6th period, when the sports teams used it before practice. I wanted to get a quick couple of sets before I showered and got ready for my date with Mrs. Hamilton. Mostly I was left alone even when the teams were there, but today was a light crowd... only a couple of the track and field guys.
Reed was not unnoticed when he crossed the threshold, but he was not harassed as he tentatively made his way into the weight room. Stick legs and stick arms shooting out of gym shorts that would never be the right size and a tee-shirt that hung loose. I did a set of 10 shoulder presses with 90lbs. Reed watched, standing in the middle of some free weights. Someone had not cleaned up and there were a couple of low weight bars scattered about.
Reed was out of his element, casting about for how to start. Asking for help would have been risky... everyone knew he was new meat and unsure, so there was a better than even chance that he would have been set up to fail miserably. Sometimes you have to risk it and ask, take your lumps and earn your way in by not quitting, other times you take a chance and don't ask, you risk injury and being laughed at, but again, you take your lumps and don't quit, at least you don't if you want something enough.
Reed decided not to ask. Instead he bent down and picked up a 15lb bar with a 15lb plate on each end. 45lbs. He got it to his hips, then wrestled it to his shoulders. He should have stopped there, but he had watched me press and went ahead and attempted to get it up over his head. He off balanced himself, tried to step back and get control but tripped over one of the other bars. He went over backwards landing on his back across a third bar, in the small of his back, the bar he was holding landed across his neck. The plates held the bar up off of his neck, but, with his back arched across a bar, he had absolutely zero leverage and a less than zero chance of lifting that bar off of himself. One of the high jumpers doing leg presses started to point and laugh as Reed began to panic, until I stood up and walked over to Reed. No one else laughed loud enough to be heard.
His eyes were wide and his breathing was crazy. He was almost hyperventilating. I grabbed the bar and lifted it off with one hand then grabbed his arm with the other and pulled him to his feet.
"Fucking sloppy mother fuckers, leaving shit laying all about like this. Accidents waiting to happen. You have be careful about shit laying around."
I could see he was embarrassed, almost too embarrassed to speak, but he managed a "Thank you".
He turned to leave.
"Wait Reed."
"No... it was a stupid idea. I can't do this... I don't know anything about it."
He turned to run away again.
"Wait a sec." I said as I bent down and removed the two plates. I picked up the bar and turned around to face him. "How's your back?"
"Hurts."
"Good, it should, I would be surprised if it didn't, but you lucked out. It would have been much worse if it had been across your shoulders. Here, take this. By itself it is 15lbs and would be a good place to start."
I held it out to him with one hand.
"I don't know Casey... this wasn't one of my smartest moments."
"No... probably not... as smart as you are, I would expect you to learn something about what you were going to try before you jumped in, but hey, you surprised me once today, why not twice..."
He was still undecided and stepped back one step.
"Look Reed... it already happened. Tomorrow you are going to have to deal with everyone knowing what happened because someone saw it happen. So not doing anything more is not going to fix that, then you will just prove to everyone that their mockery is justified. Stay, and do a couple of sets with less weight, controllable weight, even after you got hurt and showed your ass, they can't laugh as long or as hard if you get up again. Find a way to laugh at it with them and it won't so bad, but you can't do that if you quit. Take the bar."
I walked back over to the other area and my bar.
"Bring it over here, away from all that mess."
He picked his way out of the tangle, balancing the bar.
I brought my bar up to my chin and said, "Technique is as important as weight. Learn to do it correctly and it will make every pound count more."
I went up and down once slowly.
"Now you."
"it's hard, not like before, but it hurts." He said as he brought it back down to has chin.
"Its going to hurt a lot more tomorrow, and you should feel some every work out or you aren't trying... one of the things to learn is what is too much and what is not enough..."
He opened his mouth to protest again but I cut him off.
"You showed me something about yourself today Reed, something, it sounds like you saw but don't really believe it yet. I can't make you do this, I don't want to, but you can do it, and it will be good for you. Will you look like me next month? Nope... but you will see a difference. Its no different than playing your violin. You start out learning notes and practicing scales, not playing symphonies. It takes work and time... and that takes discipline and that takes desire.
Look, even if you never touch another weight again your whole life, do these simple sets with me so that these jokers have more of a tale to tell."
He pressed the empty bar up, then brought the bar down again.
"Ok... I get it, I think... I will think about it. Thanks."
Mr. Kim was the owner of Kim's laundry and dry cleaners. His wife and children ran it with him. An old school family business with a 3 bedroom apt on top where they lived.
When I was in Junior High, my mom got busted, not for the first time, and spent a couple of months in county lock up. I took off that time, rather than get put back into the system.
One of the Kim kids had left a door unlocked, and after casting about for a place to get out of the weather for the night, I found it. I looked around inside, and found a corner to curl up in, a pile of rags was both mattress and covers.
It was so comfortable that I did not wake up until Mr. Kim kicked me in the ribs.
"Get up... wha'chu be here? You steal my family from? I beat you ass boy... no steal from Kim!"
It wasn't the first time I had been kicked awake. I curled up and took a few; nothing is free and a few kicks from an older man is a small price for a warm, comfortable overnight bed, then when he paused I scampered away and stood up.
"I didn't steal, I didn't break anything. The door was unlocked and I was cold. Sorry... I will leave."
Grandmother Kim then blocked my only way to the door. I might have rushed him or his son to break for the door, but I wasn't going to knock down an old woman. Only punks would do that, and, even then, I was no punk. I figured to take a beating but she stopped him with a word. She looked me over closely.
"No home." It wasn't a question.
"No... no home right now."
She looked at me standing there... nodded to herself, having made up her mind about something
"Eat. Sweep up, clean toilet to pay for bed and food."
Mr. Kim said something in Korean, she snapped back at him and pointed a finger at me, then back at him... said something else and then slapped him on the arm as she passed him. He sighed having been over ruled. He led me to a store room where there was a bucket and faucet.
"Wash here. Face, hands. Get clean to eat." He looked me up and down. "Follow." He led me to a bin full of clothes. "Left, no come get. Clean clothes. You find more... you dress clean clothes. Wash first, then look here."
There weren't many things my size, but what there was, were worlds better than anything I had ever owned.
After washing up and changing clothes, I wet my hair and ran my fingers through it to try to make it more presentable.
There were several working tables for mending and tailoring as needed and "Mama" had me sit at one of those. Mr. Kim shook his head and walked away. She spoke Korean under her breath and ended with what, in any language, would surely translate to something best left un-translated.
I had never eaten Korean food... I had no idea what any of it was but when she placed the plate in front of me and smiled, I said, "Thank you" and ate like my throat had been cut for a week. She was very happy with my enthusiasm and filled my plate twice more each time getting a snort of derision from Mr. Kim, and a new curse under her breath from "Mama". It is what everyone called her but I said "Yes ma'am" until she told me to call her "Mama".