Revenge, or Pranks?

People die in this story

My name is Charlie. I’m living at a motel, really a homeless shelter, with my mom. I started working there a few years ago as a volunteer, cutting grass, and helping the regular maintenance man, Clark, by doing odd jobs and mowing the grass. Clark showed me how to start and use the mower. There is no working pool, one of my jobs is to keep the gate locked, and the pool covered with a tarp, and check it daily. The volunteer bit was court ordered, after some trials I was involved in. I have been working here for three years now, and am getting paid, because Clark is 70, not in the best of health, and can't do all that needs to be done. Mostly he just tells me what to do, if I don't know how, and keeps me company.

I started High School this year. Within the first week, some guys grabbed me, while we were in school, and took me to Frank Grumman. I had been expecting this, a lot of people had told me about him, and how he was bad news. They tried to coach me on how to treat him, but it seemed too much like bending the knee, and letting him do whatever he wanted. They told me he had been held back a grade at least twice, so he was also taller and heavier than anyone else in school. If he had been a better student, and person, he could have had any position he wanted, football or wrestling would have been good for him. I've turned into a bit of a smartass when threatened, so I responded, “well, Frances, I’m Charlie, glad to know you”. Calling him Frances, not exactly a girl's name, but it was close enough to insult him, and it hit the mark. “what the “blankety blank” did you call me”. “I called you Francis, isn't Frank short for that? I got away when a teacher stepped in to stop it, no damage done to me.

But, he was just a bully. I found out over time he had put several kids in the hospital, and done some juvenile jail time. He is suspended from school often, at least when he isn't skipping. He is definitely trouble, it seems the school system is putting up with him until he turns 18, then he is gone.

The sass in me decided to go on the offensive. Frank had an older model Chevy, so first, I let the air out of all of his tires. Man, was he mad. I managed to avoid Frank for a week or so, but Frank's friends had been spying on me, and one day after school, they grabbed me and dragged me to Frank. After slapping me around a bit, Frank asked if I had anything with the flat tires on his car. “No”, I replied, “but you are so full of hot air, it shouldn't have been a problem”. Frank's friends had been holding me but let me go when they laughed, and I was able to get away. I was able to avoid Frank for a while, but decided I needed to give him something to make him think. He already hated me, and I decided It wouldn't get better, so I just had to antagonize him. Kind of getting my revenge in first. So, after making sure he was occupied, I replaced the main coil wire from his car's engine with a wire that looked ok, but was missing the internal connecting wire. Made it real hard to start his car. Frank was even madder, and made his groupies watch his car for days until they all got tired of it.

My next trick was to take a turkey baster, spoon flour into the bulb, then squirt it into his vents. By using the baster, I was able to get the flour back inside the vents where it wasn't easily seen. Being an older car, I could work the dials so when he started the car, the air came on immediately. I also pointed several vents at the driver, so Frank got it full in the face. I wonder if Frank started locking his car after this.

I was always on the watch for Frank, or one of his posse, and it was tiring. But I found if I kept giving Frank problems, he was focusing more on them instead of me. In Social Studies, we were assigned to write 1000 words about the Quakers and Mennonites. I went to Frank and friends, and offered to write their essays. Predictably Frank grabbed my shirt, hauled me up to his face, and forced his bad breath on me and said “Look punk, what are you up to?” “Frank, I am trying to be your friend. I can write your essays, and you will be good to go. I know the subject matter, and I can make them sound like you guys.” He bought it. “You better give them to me by Wednesday morning, cause that's when they are due”. I had two days. I didn't tell Frank I had already started them, the teacher had told me about them the previous week. The problem for Frank and friends was that after the first page, every 10th sentence or so, I inserted language like “This teacher sucks”, or “School bites”. Another good one was “If this paper doesn't get an A grade, someone's arm will be broken. I KNEW they wouldn't read it carefully and catch the hidden gems. I got another 2 weeks of peace, because that is how long they were suspended, along with having to work community service.

Clark was beaten up and robbed a few days ago, but he was able to give a good enough description of the guys who did it. It was easy to tell it was Frank and friends. The police picked them up, and although they denied it, a few witnesses besides Clark said it was them, plus one of them was so stupid he still had Clark's wallet. After a quick trial, they went to jail, 3 months of peace for me. I just couldn't let it go, because Clark had treated me like a son and had watched out for me when I was younger, and needed the help. I took my time, and found out when Frank was to be released. I knew where Frank's Chevy was, and a few nights before he got out, I crawled under his car and crimped all the brake lines to all four wheels. Just enough to make the brakes seem ok, but be unreliable in an emergency, panic type stop. When Frank and friends got out, they were ready to cause some destruction. First they got Frank's car, then they stopped at a package store, got beer and whiskey. They were flying around town, asking everyone they saw if they knew where I was.

There is a road near town that is relatively straight for a mile, then has a hard left turn. The Speed limit is 40, but reduces to 25 near the turn. Frank's car never made the turn, ran off the road into woods, and everyone in the car died after being thrown out. There were no skid marks, which means either Frank was too drunk to realize the situation he was in, or the car brakes wouldn't stop the car.

The trials I mentioned were for first kicking and beating a bully named Ricky Grumman, Frank's younger brother, and, second, my being involved in Rickys death. I didn't plan to kill him, it was a split second reaction to him holding a knife to me, while we walked up steps to a bank, where he planned to steal the money in my bank account. All $75.00 of it. He was behind me, holding me tight, knife at my back. At the top step, I launched myself backwards into Ricky. He went over backwards, and his head and neck hit the steps, and his neck broke, and he died.