Brady’s backpack was heavier than usual on this warm Spring afternoon as he leapt from the bottom step of the school bus. The bag was loaded with books and homework. And rocks. Seven year-old Brady had collected some really cool rocks during recess, and he wanted to show them off to his Grandpa.

 

Brady stood at the corner, watching a fat gray squirrel scurry up the big oak tree. The leaves were green and lush, and Brady lost sight of the squirrel’s bushy tail. But he could hear him chortling high above his head, conversing with one of his squirrel friends.  

 

Where was Carolyn? Brady looked around, slipping out of his cumbersome backpack. His sister, Carolyn Gilfoyle, was eight years older, so she finished her school day a little earlier. She was always there waiting for him. But not today. Still, Mom’s firm orders echoed in his ears, so Brady would stay right there and wait for Carolyn.

 

Fifteen minutes later, Brady decided to walk the two blocks to his house alone. Carolyn was probably there already, watching that silly “soap bopper” she loved so much. Brady adjusted his backpack and started for home.

 

“Where ya goin’, Loser?” 

 

It was Todd Sweeney’s voice, coming from somewhere behind him. Brady stopped walking, but for just a split second. Then he quickened his step and continued on his way without turning around. Todd was also seven, and he and Brady used to be best friends. Then last fall Todd’s parents enrolled him in public school, and the two boys gradually grew apart. Lately, Todd and another boy had begun to taunt and bully Brady and some of the other boys in the neighborhood.  

 

Todd had always been a big boy. And now he was big and mean. Brady attributed this to Todd’s new best friend, “Chunk.” Brady didn’t know Chunk’s real name. But the chubby kid was even meaner than Todd. Rumor had it he’d gotten the nickname back in Kindergarten when he made a daily ritual of stealing everybody’s milk and Oreos.

 

“Hey, we’re talking to you, Loser. Wait up.”

 

Brady had two choices. He could turn around and confront Todd and Chunk. Or he could run. His house was now less than a block away.  He knew Chunk couldn’t catch him. But Todd probably could.

 

He turned around. “Yeah? What do you want?”  

 

Not bothering to answer, Todd shoved Brady and knocked him to the ground. Brady jumped to his feet and pushed back. This time, Todd punched him, right in the eye. Chunk stood by taunting and egging Todd on.

 

Brady wanted to return the blow. But he didn’t. And he didn’t cry either, even though his eye throbbed and swelled like a ripe plum. He stared into Todd’s smirking face. Then Brady turned and walked home. The sound of the other boys’ laughter rang in his ears as he rang the buzzer at the front door.

 

“Sorry I wasn’t there to pick you up, Squirt.” Carolyn tossed Brady a bag of Green Giant frozen peas. “Put that on your eye. It’ll make it feel better.”

 

Brady sat on one of the stools at the kitchen dinette. He winced as he placed the frosty bag over his eye. “How come you were late?” 

 

Carolyn flipped a strand of glossy brown hair over her shoulder. She opened the freezer door and stared blankly at its contents.  “Mrs. Ledbetter got a flat tire on our way home. Lindsay and I tried to help her change it, but we ended up waiting for the auto club to come for us.” She unwrapped a banana Popsicle and handed it to her brother. “Here, Squirt. Call it a peace offering.”

 

Grandpa Max entered the kitchen. In spite of his recent knee-replacement surgery, he moved pretty quickly with the aid of his cane. “Hey Brady—say, what happened to you, Boy?”

 

“He got in a fight,” Carolyn answered, popping a pretzel into her mouth. Then she grabbed a can of soda and disappeared up the stairs.

 

“No, I didn’t,” Brady corrected. “I didn’t hit him at all.”  Brady lowered his head, staring with his one good eye into his lap.

 

“How come?  Were you scared of him?”

 

No, Grandpa. I wasn’t scared. But . . . Todd used to be my best friend. Still is, I guess.”

 

Grandpa nodded. “Aha, so it was Todd who punched you. I remember him. Used to be a nice kid.”

 

“Used to be.” Brady finished his Popsicle and placed the wet wooden stick on the counter. He hung his head, then after a moment, he asked, “Grandpa, do you think I was a chicken for not hittin’ him back?”

 

Grandpa stroked his stubbly chin. “Brady, we don’t have a lot of choices about fighting back. But this time, well, I’m proud of you, Son. You turned the other cheek. And that was the right thing to do.”

 

Brady grinned. Grandpa’s praise meant a lot to him. “Hey, I almost forgot. Wait till you see the cool rocks I found today.” He raced off to retrieve the backpack stuffed with his new treasures.

 

At bedtime, Mom kissed Brady’s forehead and smoothed a stray lock of hair from his brow. “Aw, Sweetie, that eye looks like it hurts a lot.”

 

Brady shook his head. “Not too much anymore. It’s just kinda hard to see over the puffy part.”

 

Mom nodded. “Well, I think it’s going to look a little worse before it looks any better.” She tucked the sheets beneath the mattress at the foot of Brady’s bed. “Hey, you know your birthday’s coming up in a couple of weeks,” she said. “So we need to get some invitations in the mail soon.” She patted Brady’s arm on top of the covers. “Do you know who you’d like to invite?”

 

Brady thought for a few seconds, then he said, “Well, there’s Cody and Amanda, Ryan, Danny.” He shrugged. “I guess that’s all.”

 

“What about Todd?”

 

“Not Todd,” Brady stated emphatically. “He’s not my friend no more.”

 

“Anymore,” his mother corrected. “And he’s been to all of your birthday parties since the two of you were in day care. I think it would be a nice gesture if you invited him. His sister Tiffanie, too.”

 

“But he’s mean to me, Mom. Why do you want him to come to my party?”

 

Mom took Brady’s small hand in hers. “Honey, sometimes people behave badly because they don’t know what else to do. Maybe Todd’s hurting, in ways that you can’t understand. Does that make any sense to you?”

 

Brady stared into his mother’s green eyes which mirrored his own. Like her, Brady had reddish-brown hair and a smattering of freckles. Carolyn looked more like their father, with an olive complexion and wavy chestnut hair. 

 

When Chunk was in an especially nasty mood, he liked to call Brady “Chuckie,” after a cartoon character and some doll from a famous horror movie Mom said he was too young to watch. Brady didn’t like the name at all. “Nuh uh,” Brady said. “I don’t want Todd at my birthday party.”

 

Mom hiked the covers up to Brady’s chin. “You think it over.  Maybe you’ll change your mind.” She walked to the open door and pulled it partly closed behind her. “Sleep tight.”

 

The following afternoon, Carolyn was at the bus stop right on time. “Hey, Squirt. How was school?” she asked, as she walked beside her brother for the short trip home.

 

“Okay, I guess. Miss Schneebel read us a really cool book about dinosaurs. And we made some stupid art project. I left it at school.”

 

“What did the other kids say about your black eye?”

 

Brady perked up. Even though it still hurt when he touched it, he’d forgotten all about his eye, now mottled in shades of black, plum and green. “They said it was cool.” Suddenly, up ahead, Brady caught a glimpse of Todd. Brady stopped walking.

 

“What’s the matter?” Carolyn asked.

 

Brady looked around for Chunk. He didn’t see him anywhere.  “Nothin’,” he answered.

 

“Hi, Todd,” Carolyn called out. Brady bristled, as Todd slowly turned around.

 

“Hi.” Todd kicked at some gravel with his dirty high-top sneakers. “Brady.”

 

“Hi, Todd.”

 

“Say, how’s Tiffanie doing?” Carolyn asked.  

 

“Okay, I guess.” Todd shoved his hands in his pockets. “Look, I gotta go. See ya.”

 

Brady and Carolyn followed behind. They strolled up the geranium-lined walk as Todd disappeared around the corner.

 

Brady stopped walking. Carolyn turned, “What’s wrong?,” she asked.

 

“How can Todd act like nothin’s wrong? He punched me in the eye yesterday. And now he’s acting, I dunno, kinda normal.”

 

Carolyn shrugged. “I don’t know either, Squirt. Sometimes friends fight. It doesn’t mean they’re not friends.”

 

“Really?”

 

“Sure. Todd was probably just having a bad day yesterday. Now I’m not saying he was right to punch you in the eye, but . . . sometimes there are things going on with people that we aren’t aware of. I think you should give him another chance.”

 

Brady looked up at Carolyn. “Mom wants me to invite him to my birthday party.”

 

Carolyn smiled. “I think that’s a nice idea.” She scooped a few bills and letters from the mailbox and unlocked the front door. 

 

“Now you watch your brother, and I’ll be right back,” Mom directed Carolyn as they entered the mall.  

 

“Can we have some quarters for the arcade?” Carolyn took the coins from her mother’s outstretched hand. “Thanks. We’ll be right here.”

 

Mom grabbed a cart and wheeled it swiftly into the discount store. Carolyn handed four quarters to Brady. “What do you want to play?”

 

He looked around. “That one,” he said, pointing to a video game.  

 

Just then, Matt, a junior from the high school, walked over. “Hi, Carolyn. You babysittin’?” Matt asked. Brady tossed the teen a dirty look as he plugged two quarters into the machine.

 

“Just watching my brother until my Mom comes back,” Carolyn answered. Matt steered Carolyn a few feet from the video game and whispered in her ear. The sound effects from the video games almost drowned out Carolyn’s giggling.

 

“Hey, there’s the wuss you beat up the other day, Todd,” Chunk boasted, shoving Todd with his beefy shoulder.  

 

Brady looked up from his game. He watched in horror as the gnarly space spider devoured his astronaut guy on the screen. He spun around, unsure about Todd’s motivations. He’d been somewhat civil the day before when Brady and Carolyn encountered him on his way home from school.  

 

But now, Chunk was back.

 

“Nice shiner,” Todd teased.  

 

So that was how it was going to be. Brady could see his sister out of the corner of his eye. She was out of earshot, flirting with Matt. Brady didn’t want to fight Todd. And he silently prayed he wouldn’t have to.

 

“Hey Todd. I got some quarters. You wanna play?” Brady nodded to the game. Todd hesitated, then he glanced over at Chunk.  

 

“Hit him,” Chunk said, his voice raspy and hoarse. Then he snatched the two quarters from Brady’s hand and shoved them into his pocket.

 

“Hey, give it back!” Brady demanded, shoving Chunk against the wall. 

 

Todd grabbed Brady by the front of his jacket and punched him in the stomach. Brady answered with a right hook to Todd’s jaw and another to his gut. Chunk was hollering, egging both boys on, as Carolyn and Matt ran over.

 

 “Brady, stop it,” Carolyn demanded, pulling her brother away from the fight. Matt grabbed Todd and pinned his arms behind him.  

 

“He started it,” Brady protested, struggling to pull from his sister’s grasp.

 

“And I’m gonna finish it,” Todd hollered.

 

“That’s enough,” Matt said. “Now both of you, cool off.”  

 

Todd and Brady stared each other down. “That’s better. Now shake on it.”  Neither boy moved. 

 

“Come on, Brady. Here comes Mom.” Carolyn nodded to Matt and dragged her brother away. Brady glanced over his shoulder at Todd, who stared back for a fleeting instant. Then he followed Chunk to the concession stand, with its limp hot dogs and day-old pretzels dusted with coarse salt.

 

Brady stood at his parents’ bedroom door, listening. They were discussing whether or not to proceed with the birthday plans. His father, angry from the two fights Brady had been involved in, was in favor of canceling the celebration. His mother lobbied for the party.

 

“Come on. You know Brady is a good kid. He never gets into any trouble,” Mom argued. 

 

“Not until lately.”

 

“This time,” Mom continued, “he fought back. But he didn’t start anything either time.”

 

“Well, however it went down, this brawling has got to stop. Right here and now,” Dad replied.

 

“I agree. And I don’t think it’s going to be a problem again. I spoke to Todd’s mother.” 

 

Brady swallowed the lump in his throat. He couldn’t believe his mother had done that. He didn’t want to be a tattletale. And although he knew he shouldn’t be eavesdropping in the doorway, he continued to listen.

 

“Well, what did she have to say?” Bill Gilfoyle asked.

 

“She said Tiffanie has gotten worse. And that’s why Todd has been acting out.” 

 

Brady lay in his bed, staring up at the fluorescent stars painted on the ceiling. He couldn’t sleep. His parents’ conversation echoed in his ears and made his stomach hurt. That, as well as Todd’s punch delivered earlier in the evening.

 

Mom had said that Tiffanie was sick. And Brady could tell that she didn’t mean that Todd’s sister, almost eleven, had the measles or a case of the flu. Tiffanie had something called Leukemia, Mom explained, and the doctors didn’t think that she would make it until Christmas.

 

Brady swiped at a stray tear streaking a path down his freckled cheek. He and Carolyn were miles apart in age. And they fought once in awhile. Usually it was when she wanted to watch her soaps and Brady wanted to watch Looney Toons. But he couldn’t imagine how sad he would be if his sister were really sick and doctors couldn’t help her.

 

Brady sneaked out of bed and shut his door. He turned on the small lamp at his desk and pulled out the box of invitations. Mom had convinced Dad to let Brady celebrate his birthday with a party.  

 

He took a green pen out of his desk drawer and removed the cap with his teeth. He plucked one of the invitation cards, brightly colored and decorated with balloons and party hats, from the box. Mom had written the time and address on each card, so Brady carefully wrote “Todd and Tiffanie” on the top line. He added a special notation which read, “I hope you can come to my party.” Then he signed his name.

 

Brady sealed the red envelope and placed it on top of the box. Then he turned out his light, crawled into bed and drifted off to sleep.

 

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