On His Back

On His Back



It had stopped raining before they got to the school bus stop. The sky was still dense with clouds. The road was covered with puddles. Everything seemed extra clear and either green or steel gray. The trees dripped on the two of them while they waited for the bus. Everything was wet and shiny. While he yawned, Art mentioned the English assignment that was due that day.

"That's due Friday," Jeff tried to convince him.

"I guess I'm turning it in early."

Jeff stared at Art with a squinty, suspicious look making sure he was being sarcastic and not just being a huge asskissing, extra credit doing nerd.

"Oh, shit," Jeff said as he rummaged around in his backpack.

Jeff looked down the road to make sure the bus wasn't coming yet. He got out a piece of paper and looked for a place to sit. Jeff checked out the ground to make sure that it was as wet as it looked. In some places it was a swamp, grass just peeking out of the water.

"Turn around," Jeff told Art. Art didn't move.

"I need something to write on," Jeff said. He pushed Art's shoulder, but Art just sprung back not cooperating.

Jeff turned him around firmly by both shoulders and told him to hold still. He set up the folder on his back. He cursed as he started writing. Then he got quiet and concentrated. Art could feel the pen moving as he stood with his head a little forward. Everything else was fuzzy. He was surprised when he heard the bus screech to a stop right next to them.

Jeff finished the rest of the assignment on the bus. Art watched him leaning over the folder in his lap, scratching things out, and tapping the pen on his teeth when he stopped to think.



They got the papers back the next day. The stack was neat at first then everyone pawed through it looking for their assignments and made a mess of it. When Art went up to get his own paper from the pile, he saw it. The bad handwriting and the crossed out words gave it away. Jeff was still in his seat, talking to the new girl who sat behind him. The new girl was ignoring him. The teacher was turned around writing another assignment on the board. As Art got his own paper, he also grabbed Jeff's. He folded Jeff's paper and took it back to his own seat. He stuck it in his notebook. Hunched down, Art stared at his paper, even though there was nothing to see. It was barely marked. It just said "nice work".

When Jeff finally went to look for his essay, hardly any of the papers were left.

"Someone must have picked up yours by mistake," Ms Arden said. She looked around the class. Art kept his head down. She lifted some things off her desk to make sure it wasn't there.

"I wrote it. I turned it in," Jeff was whining. Jeff pointed at Art with his arm extended. Art froze. Of course all Jeff meant was that Art was his witness - that Art had felt the words on his back. There had been an indistinct pressure of the pen and the heel of Jeff's hand resting against him. The other hand was hooked firmly over his shoulder blade holding Art, the folder, and the paper in place.

"Your grade was recorded. You got credit. You got a ... C-," Ms Arden told Jeff after she looked it up.

Once he heard that, Jeff didn't worry about the paper any more. He winked at Art when he passed his desk and went back to bothering the new girl. Art wondered what Jeff would think if he saw that he had it. If he could guess why. Art only half hoped that kind of thing would never occur to him.




Art pulled the paper from the yearbook. It was one of the few high school mementos Art had decided to keep when he moved out of his parents' place. His mother kept a bunch of straight A report cards and awards, thing he didn't care about. He only cared about the yearbook because his friends' pictures were in it, including Jeff's and Jeff had signed it, "To the biggest nerd and asshole who ruined the curve, maybe you'll finally get laid in college," signed "El Jeffe." It was written in Jeff's big, spiky hand, the same hand that filled two thirds of the lined paper folded in half. Art folded the paper once more and stuck it into his coat pocket before he went out.

The day was cold and a little gloomy. The clouds were a flat, gray lid over everything. The light, diffused through the clouds, looked the same in the evening, as it had that morning. It made the day seem endless, washed out everything. While he looked for the place, Art wondered if there was a chance that Jeff wouldn't recognize him. Then he would have to punch him. A few minutes after Art knocked, Jeff opened the door looking angry, then a blank look that Art had been dreading.

"You?" Jeff finally said and pointed. "Ha! You got fat!"

"It's the coat!" Art defended himself. He wasn't a skinny kid any more, that was true, but he wasn't fat. The coat was just bulky.

When he got in, Art took it off to prove that he was in decent shape. Jeff didn't check him out though. He got them both beers without asking. They talked for a while. Jeff was filling him in on his crap jobs and the one he had now which he liked. He showed Art a picture of an ex girlfriend, told him how she dumped him then got breast implants.

"Can you believe my luck?"

That was her with her old boobs in the photo. Jeff had been begging her for an up to date picture, but she acted like he was crazy or something.

Art told him stuff too, skirted around a few things, skipped right over Matteo. They compared notes on the people from high school they had seen, how they looked, how many kids they had. As Art was getting ready to leave, Jeff invited him over to watch a game on Sunday.

"Maybe," Art said.

He got the paper out as he put the coat back on.

"Here." He handed it to Jeff as he stepped over the threshold. Jeff unfolded it. He looked at it with a blank face, even turned it over. He looked back at Art for an explanation. Art just waved from the street.





The end