Was Eleanor supposed to be mad at him still? Was she supposed to be indignant? Was she supposed to shout at him when she saw him in English class, ‘Was that for me? Or for you?’
She hung his trench coat in her locker, and leaned in to take a deep breath. It smelled like Irish Spring and a little bit like potpourri and like something she couldn’t describe anyway other than boy.
Park wasn’t in English or history, and he wasn’t on the bus after school. Neither was Steve. Tina walked by Eleanor’s seat with her head in the air; Eleanor looked away. Everybody else on the bus was talking about the fight.
‘Fucking Kung Fu, fucking David Carradine.’ And ‘Fuck David Carradine
–
fucking
Chuck
Norris.’
Eleanor got off at Park’s stop.
Park
He was suspended for two days.
Steve was suspended for two weeks because this was his third fight of the year. Park felt kind of bad about that – because Park was the one who’d started the fight – but then he thought about all the other ridiculous crap Steve did every day and never got busted for.
Park’s mom was so mad, she wouldn’t come get him. She called his dad at work. When his dad showed up, the principal thought he was Steve’s dad.
‘Actually,’
his
dad
said,
pointing at Park, ‘that one’s mine.’
The school nurse said Park didn’t have to go the hospital, but he looked pretty bad. He had a black eye and probably a broken nose.
Steve did have to go the hospital. His tooth was loose, and the nurse was pretty sure he’d broken a finger.
Park waited in the office with ice on his face while his dad talked to the principal. The secretary brought him a Sprite from the teachers’ lounge.
His dad didn’t say anything until they were driving.
‘Taekwando is the art of self-defense,’ he said sternly.
Park didn’t answer. His whole face was throbbing; the nurse wasn’t allowed to give out Tylenol.
‘Did you really kick him in the face?’ his dad asked.
Park nodded.
‘That had to be a jump kick.’
‘Jump reverse hook,’ Park groaned.
‘No way.’
Park tried to give his dad a dirty look, but any look at all felt like getting hit in the face with rocks.
‘He’s lucky you wear those little tennis shoes,’ his dad said, ‘even in the middle of winter …
Seriously, a jump reverse hook?’
Park nodded.
‘Huh. Well, your mom is going to hit the goddamn roof when she sees you. She was at your grandma’s house, crying, when she called me.’
His dad was right. When Park walked
in,
his
mom
was
practically incoherent.
She took him by the shoulders and looked up at his face, shaking her head. ‘Fighting!’ she said, stabbing her index finger into his chest. ‘Fighting like white-trash dumb monkey …’
He’d seen her this mad at Josh before – he’d seen her throw a basket of silk flowers at Josh’s head – but never at him.
‘Waste,’ she said. ‘Waste!
Fighting! Can’t trust you with own face.’
His dad tried to put his hand on her shoulder, but she shook him off.
‘Get the boy a steak, Harold,’
his grandma said, sitting Park at the kitchen table and inspecting his face.
‘I’m not wasting a steak on that,’ his grandpa said.
His dad went to the cupboard to get Park some Tylenol and a glass of water.
‘Can
you
breathe?’
his
grandma asked.
‘Through my mouth,’ Park said.
‘Your dad broke his nose so many times, he can only breathe through one nostril. That’s why he snores like a freight train.’
‘No more taekwando,’ his mom said. ‘No more fighting.’
‘Mindy …’ his dad said. ‘It was one fight. He was sticking up for some girl the kids pick on.’
‘She’s not some girl,’ Park growled. His voice made every bone in his head vibrate with pain.
‘She’s my girlfriend.’
He hoped so, anyway.
‘Is it the redhead?’ his grandma asked.
‘Eleanor,’ he said. ‘Her name – is Eleanor.’
‘No girlfriend, no,’ his mom said,
folding
her
arms.
‘Grounded.’
Eleanor When Eleanor rang the doorbell, Magnum P.I. answered.
‘Hi,’ she said, trying to smile.
‘I go to school with Park. I have his books and stuff.’
Park’s dad looked her up and down, but not like he was checking her out, thank God.
More like he was sizing her up.
(Which was also uncomfortable.) ‘Are you Helen?’ he asked.
‘Eleanor,’ she said.
‘Eleanor, right … Just a second.’
Before she could tell him that she just wanted to drop off Park’s stuff, he walked away. He left the door open, and Eleanor could hear him talking to someone, probably in the kitchen, probably Park’s mom. ‘Come on, Mindy …’ And, ‘Just for a few minutes …’ And then, right before he came back to the door, ‘With a nickname like Big Red, I expected her to be a lot bigger.’
‘I was just dropping this off,’
Eleanor said when he pushed the screen open.
‘Thanks,’ he said, ‘come on in.’
Eleanor
held
up
Park’s
backpack.
‘Seriously, kid,’ he said.
‘Come on in and give it to him yourself. I’m sure he wants to see you.’