Invisible Fences by Norman Prentiss Read Free Book Online

stick to pull him out—though obviously Aaron’s version of events had emphasized my cowardice. 
    “You left him there,” David said. 
    “No. He was right behind us. We went slow, so he could follow us out of the woods.” I kept looking around David’s body, past his raised fist, at Aaron. My friend sat sullenly in the swing and stared at the ground. He wouldn’t even look at me. 
    “Tell him the truth, Aaron,” I said. And David hit me. 
    I’d always been scared of getting into a fight, of getting beat up by larger, older kids. Now, the blows that landed on my shoulder and my chest weren’t as painful as I’d feared. But the idea of getting hit still frightened me, and I cried out.  
    Loud enough that Pam came running. Somehow I’d ended up on the ground, curled into a ball with my hands over my head. David punched at my back a few times before Pam stepped between us.  
    She was closer to David’s age, closer to his size, but he didn’t try to fight with her. It was still taboo for a guy to hit a girl, even if she was a tomboy. 
    “Come on, Nathan,” Pam said, and motioned me ahead of her toward home.  
    I picked myself off the ground. When I glanced back briefly, David held his arms straight against each side, fists clenched. Aaron looked up finally, his face blank and accusing. 
     
    • • • 
     
    Aaron never spoke to me again. The way he managed to represent the story to his family, I had masterminded the visit into the woods. I’d dared him to climb on the log bridge (true, as I’ve already admitted). I’d refused to help him from the water after he fell in the creek, then ran out of the woods with my sister—abandoning Aaron deep in the maze-like paths.  
    He’d arrived home covered with mud, and he turned me into an enemy to escape his punishment. No blame for my sister, the eldest and most responsible in our group: I was the friend, and should have looked after Aaron more carefully. Aaron’s parents ordered him to stay away from me. 
    Me. Weak, uncoordinated, overweight. The third nerdiest kid in our grade at school. Somehow I’d become a “dangerous influence.”  
    Don’t go near that evil, scheming, friend-deserting Nathan, or…-zap!- 
    I’d become part of another kid’s invisible fence. 
     
    • • • 
     
    Mom’s friendship with Mrs. Lieberman didn’t last much longer. They had a few phone conversations, but only five minutes each, compared to their usual half-hour gossip sessions. Mom barely spoke during these calls: just a few interjected agreements while Mrs. Lieberman’s voice buzzed from the phone’s tiny speaker in an angry monotone.  
    The summer just didn’t feel right anymore, and I wasn’t looking forward to going back to school. No doubt Aaron’s mother had spread the news about me to parents of other kids my age. The “bad-boy” reputation wouldn’t match my physical appearance, and I’d just come across as a jerk, a laughing stock. I’d knock Ralph Fancy out of his number one spot, and that geeky kid would be making fun of me soon enough.  
    So I wasn’t terribly upset when Dad announced the family was moving at the end of August to Alabama. He knew a school principal in Graysonville, and could get a job as a Special Education teacher. Dad also told me and Pam that he needed a drastic change from the house in Maryland: “Too much of your mother’s papers here, and she won’t let me throw anything away. If some of it gets lost in the move, well, that can’t be helped.” 
    A good story, like a lot of Dad’s stories. But I always thought the move was because of me. 
     

 
     
    Part Two: 
    Caution 

 
     
    A Promise  
     
     
    Like most people’s superstitions, mine are selective and irrational. I don’t believe in any form of good luck: rabbit’s feet, lucky numbers, rubbing the belly of a Buddha statue. Superstitions about bad luck, however, have more emotional truth for me. I’ll avoid black cats and the underside of