Chapter 4

Captain Skid Mark

Journal Entry September 1st

Journey! How you doin’ bro? Journey the Journal! Do you like that name? I mean, I gotta call you something and you just lie around all day, not doin’ anything. You’re like—

What are you? Your like a rug, you just lie around all day!

You are like… a good lay? Oh gosh, forget that. Comedy is gross.

Plus… think of the paper cuts! Haha, no no, sorry.

Anyway, it’s Lincoln again. I have been mostly in bed for a couple of weeks. I had to start taking short walks to rehabilitate my leg, but I got an infection so, guess what? I get to use a wheelchair when school starts in a few days! So, wish me luck with my new nickname: "WHEELS"! … or maybe "SKID MARK"?

Nope, never mind, I just asked Elena about that and she laughed that evil laugh. I don’t know what she is thinking, but "Skid Mark" must be a gross thing.

Oooookaaaayyy. I just asked her again and she told me. Ew. And now she's calling me "Captain Skid Mark".

Anyway. I get to go to school in a wheel chair and answer all the questions. You know, THE questions. The kids will all ask questions, like ‘what happened’ and everything, but we have a story for them. ‘I was working on Uncle Raul's farm over the summer and fell on a thresher.’ Wait, I was ‘messing around and playing on the thresher’. That’s what I have to say. Elena made me rehearse. She says if it’s not 100% ‘my fault’, they will call Child Protective Services. Again. Which brings me to the bad questions.

Any time anything is hard at home, it’s the teachers and principal that all look at me in that way where they think they know what’s really going on at home. Even Mr. Roy, the janitor… or is it sanitation worker? Anyway, they act like my dad did this to me or something silly. And this is the worst I have ever been hurt. So they are going to be really annoying. Elena said I have to laugh and look embarrassed at the same time when I lie about it. I’m not sure why, but she knows people better than I do.

A long time ago, we got taken away from Dad. It was the year after mom died.

Dad had started drinking.

I think I vaguely remember dad drinking before that, but just like a beer after mowing the lawn, or helping Uncle Raul on the farm, or after a softball game. It’s weird to think of my dad playing anything, let alone old man softball. I can’t even imagine being like 30. At that age he was playing softball on a town league! I guess it was one of the things my parents did to ‘keep up appearances’.

But still, when she was alive, it must have been easier. Right?

I have this half memory. Dad was playing softball on one of those late summer evenings. I remember it being strange to be out that late because mom and dad had to go watch the Hole.

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I think I was eating a big pretzel? Isn’t that weird to remember?

Anyway, one of Dad’s teammates was running the bases and slid into second. He was safe, but he screamed really loud and everyone got really, really quiet. It must have happened fast but I can remember all sorts of details like it was a slow motion movie. The sun was touching the trees beyond left field. The sponsor banners were zip-tied to the out-field fence. There was a dust cloud slowly blowing away across right field from the guy sliding into second. The guy grabbed his leg below the knee and rolled onto his back and his leg just flopped over! Like his shin bones had broke clean through! He must have hit the base hard? I don’t know. I just know old guys over thirty break easy cuz he rolled on his back and his lower leg flopped over, like it was only held together by his baseball pants.

I remember a gasp from the mom’s. You know how guys get quiet and ladies are quicker to say “oh my gosh”? Yeah. And I remember a few people standing as the guy screamed really loud! And no one seemed to know what to do, the other players on the field looked as stunned as I was. But then my mom and dad were on the field. Dad had ran from the dugout and Mom had jumped the fence! Mom was like Batman. So cool! They got to the guy and slid next to him on the ground.

There was another dust cloud.

I couldn’t hear what they said, but they had their “parent voices” on full display because the guy with the broken leg listened and put his leg down and let my parents stabilize it. I think they used someones knee brace to make a splint while they waited for the ambulance. My mom was quick and focused on his leg while my dad was holding the guys hand and patting his chest. Dad was probably telling him everything would be ok and that he would be just fine. I think my dad even told a joke cuz the guy smiled!

And all I felt… was jealous. Why did this guy get to have my dad hold his hand and pat his chest?

It wasn’t too long after that day that I started my real training. I must have been eight or nine.

Shoot. Why am I crying?

Any-whosy-whatsit! It’s weird what we remember.

I know that my parents were already keeping watch over the Hole at that time, but all I remembered were the good moments. Like the family get togethers, the cookouts, Cinco de Mayo, Christmas (when we still celebrated things like that). I remember a lot of scary stuff, too, like Mom and Dad being hurt a lot, or the time a monster slipped by and broke into Elena’s room when she was seven.

When that thing broke into Elenas room I was so mad! I yelled at the monster and hit it with my baseball bat. I think it was more surprised then hurt. Thankfully it was enough time for Mom and Dad to get back to the house.

Mom looked so scared. Dad went crazy on the thing. He came through the window like a tiger and just took it apart with an axe while Elena screamed and screamed.

Jeeze Louise this is a random journal entry! I don’t know if the infection is making me think all these scattered thoughts or what? I’m getting tired, and I need to rest, but I will tell you this last thing.

That was the first and last time I yelled at my parents. They came in, killed the creature and saved us. They were so worried about us and wanted to make sure I wasn’t hurt, but I was so freaking mad!

I just screamed at them. Something like “No! You guys did a bad job! You guys did a real bad job and it almost got Elena! You were bad parents tonight.”

I felt bad right away, of course, and afterwards they had a talk with me about the Hole. About how it was going to be my responsibility when I was older. That there was no use getting mad or sad about it. I just needed to understand and accept it.

This was our families weight to bear.

They said, “You don’t get a normal life, Lincoln.”

So I never yelled at them or complained again.

And I swore that day that Elena would never get hurt. I would be more responsible than Mom and Dad.