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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/books/entry_id/967776
Rated: 13+ · Book · Teen · #2189048
Story of Torey Campbell, Part 1. Beginning through First Plot Point. Work in progress.
#967776 added March 8, 2020 at 3:20pm
Restrictions: None
Scene 21 _ Who Are You?
Scene 21 Rev D

Scene 21 “Who Are You?”

Torey Campbell – Protagonist
Johnathan – Spirit


         Torey’s bedroom was dark — pitch black. Located at the back of the house, the bedroom window opened onto the alley separating the backs of the houses on Grove Street from the backs of those that fronted on Archer Boulevard. A full moon in just the right position or lights from a bedroom window across the alley were the only external light sources that ever reached Torey’s bedroom. Tonight, there was neither.
         “Torey! Wake up,” Johnathan repeated several times, his deep masculine voice hardly above a whisper.
         Torey woke slowly and raised himself on his elbows. His swollen eyes searched the dark for the source of the voice.
         “Up here,” said Johnathan, “… on your dresser.”
         Johnathan’s image brightened and focused, casting a white glow throughout the room, and startling Torey.
         “Who are you?” asked Torey, his eyes wide, and his voice laced with surprise and fear.
         “My name is Johnathan.”
         “Am I dreaming? Are you a ghost?” asked Torey.
         “You are not dreaming, and I prefer to be known as a spirit, not a ghost.”
         Johnathan’s image continued to brighten, reaching a glow about like a table lamp sitting on the dresser.
         “What do you want? Why are you here?”
         “We need to talk,” replied Johnathan.
         “About what?”
         “About you.”
         Music from a car radio, passing on Penrose Avenue, rudely broke the predawn silence and convinced Torey he was not dreaming.
         “What about me?” he asked.
         “Everything,” said Johnathan. “… most specifically about your problem.”
         “I don’t have a problem.”
         “Would you care to reconsider that answer?” asked Johnathan, flapping his wings and hopping to a different position on the dresser.
         “What do you mean?”
         Johnathan challenged Torey. “You’ve just been through a terrible week, and you’re distressed and upset. True?”
         “I guess so,” was the meek reply.
         Johnathan continued. “Just today, you took two terrible beatings — first from Rufus and Nestor, then from your father.”
         “Today sure wasn’t a good day,” Torey answered glumly, fingering his swollen lips, then brightening, “Wait, I did get two pairs of new shoes.”
         “You’re upset with your father and the way you live. You think there is a better world, but you can’t figure out how to get there. Right?” Johnathan challenged again, ignoring the shoe comment.
         “Yeah. The way we live can’t be normal. Why do some people have more money and live better lives?”
         “Torey. That’s why I’m here.”
          “I’ve got to get away from my dad,” Torey said, hoisting himself up and sitting on the side of the bed.
         “Why?”
         “He’s always angry,” Torey replied sharply. “Everything me or Mom do is wrong. He acts like we’re his enemy.”
         Johnathan asked questions as a way to get Torey to open up. “Okay. Is that all?” he continued.
         “People on TV have nice things and drive nice cars. They’re rich. Is the rest of the world rich?” Torey responded.
         Johnathan poked at his wing feathers with his beak, then answered, “No. I can tell you for sure the rest of the world is not rich. You think your life is tough, but most of the people on this planet live far worse lives than you do.
         “I’ve got to find a way to get some money,” Torey said absently.
         “Do you think money will fix your problem?”
         “If I had my own money, Pop wouldn’t be on my butt all the time.”
         Johnathan shook his head. “Suppose your dad had tons of money. Would that change who he is?”
         “I don’t know.”
         “Do you think Bertozzi has money?” asked Johnathan.
         “More than me!” Torey replied emphatically.
         “Do you want to be like Bertozzi?”
         “No!”
         “Why not?” asked Johnathan, continuing to preen his feathers.
         Torey shot back, “Because he’s a scumbag.”
         “So money didn’t make him a better person?” asked Johnathan, satisfied that he had made his point.
         “No.” Torey was perplexed. He fidgeted as his logic began to crumble.
         “My friend Addo Okoro has money from his parents,” Torey mused, changing the subject slightly. “They’re black,” he added as an afterthought.
         “How do they have money? And what’s being black got to do with it?”
         Torey thought a moment, “They have good educations and good jobs.”
         “Do you think a good education leads to a good job that leads to money?” Johnathan continued to press.
         “I never thought about that. I guess so.”
         “… and being black?” Johnathan returned to the afterthought.
         “Blacks are poor and stupid. They don’t have good jobs or money. Everyone knows that.” replied Torey emphatically.
         “Who told you that?” Johnathan said, with a tinge of ridicule in his voice.
         “Everyone knows that.”
         “Torey. You just told me that your friend’s family has money because they have good jobs which they got because they have good educations. That doesn’t fit, does it?”
         “No.”
         “Is your friend stupid?”
         “No. He’s smarter than most of my other friends.”
         Johnathan continued the questioning, “… and who is this ‘everyone’ that knows so much?”
         “You know … everyone,” Torey replied limply.
         “No I don’t. Who is everyone?”
         Torey turned sheepish, realizing that ‘everyone’ really means ‘no one.’ “That’s just an expression.”
         Johnathan pushed the point home. “You’re making judgments about people based on what this ‘everyone’ says. Maybe you should find a better source to be your authority figure.”
         “Yeah, I guess so.”
         Johnathan waited a bit, then, “What else is bothering you?”
         “My friends,” said Torey.
         “Explain, please.”
         Torey thought for a moment. “I see things different than they do. When I say something, they tell me I’m weird. I hang around with them, but I feel out of place, and it’s no fun being with them.”
         “Do you want to be like them?” Johnathan asked.
         “Yeah. No! I don’t know.” Torey answered confused and indecisive.
         Johnathan hopped about on the dresser, then looked at Torey. “Do I have this straight? You see a better life out there, and you think you should be part of it. You want to get out of here.”
         “Yes!” Torey replied vigorously.
         “But you wish you could be like your friends who will grow up to be the same people you’re trying to get away from.”
         “Doesn’t make much sense, does it?” answered Torey.
         “Well, you are weird … in a good sort of way,” said Johnathan. “But your thinking is backward. Money is not the way to escape. Escape is the way to money.”
         Torey was very confused, “I don’t understand.”
         Johnathan explained, “To escape, you need to change yourself to become the person who belongs in that world you wish to live in and not be the person who belongs in this world you now inhabit and dislike so much.”
         Torey’s mouth opened, but nothing came out. After a long pause, he managed “Huh?”
         Torey’s confusion was obvious as Johnathan continued to explain. “The world you live in now is the way it is because the people who live here have made it that way. Same for the world you seek to live in. Getting from here to there means changing yourself to fit in there and not fit in here.”
         “How do I do that?”
         “I thought you’d never ask. That’s why I’m here.”
         The glow cast by Johnathan was sufficient to illuminate the features of Torey’s bedroom — a dresser, a small desk and chair, and of course, the bed. Showing brightly in the dull white glow were the bloodstains on the sheets, pillowcase, and Torey’s clothes. Torey flinched with surprise as he ran his hands over the wet splotches of blood, the physical pain reclaiming his consciousness.
         After a moment, Johnathan’s offer to help him escape drew Torey’s attention back to the present. His interest perked up. “How can you help me?”
         Johnathan picked up the line of reasoning. “People with more education get better jobs and earn more money. But that isn’t the end of it — in fact, it is just the start.”
         “How’s that?” asked Torey.
         “An educated mind is more inquisitive and eager to have new experiences.”
         “Okay”
         “The more you know, the more you desire to know. Education feeds on itself, making your life richer every day.
         Torey nodded agreement. This time he understood. “I can see that. In school, I get good grades. The easy classes bore me. I like the hard ones because they are more interesting.”
         The bed squeaked as Torey squirmed to change position.
         Johnathan encouraged Torey’s realization. “Because your mind is hungry for more adventures.”
         “But my friends think I’m crazy,” replied Torey. “They take the easiest classes, do the least amount of work, and hang out in front of Kopischke’s store. That is so boring.”
         “Where will they end up?” asked Johnathan.
         “I don’t know.”
         “They will stay in Drullins, unqualified for anything, and be the next generation of the people you don’t like,” assured Johnathan.
         “I guess so.”
         “It’s an old story,” said Johnathan. “They will see those living the better life ‘across the tracks’ so to speak, and think it was all a matter of luck. That Lady Luck gave it all to the other guy and cheated them out of the good life.”
         “Don’t want that to happen to me,” said Torey with a note of fear in his voice.
         “I know you don’t, and, like I said before, that’s why I’m here.”
         Torey shook his head in agreement, but the frown on his face showed that he had no idea what Johnathan meant.
         “You’re gonna help me escape?” asked Torey.
         “I’ll point the way. I’ll give you a map. You must make the journey.”
         “I’m ready,” Torey said, jumping off the bed. “I’ll do it.”
         Johnathan gave Torey a long look, then said, “Let me introduce you to the concept of the ‘Renaissance Man.’
         “Renaissance Man — What’s that?” asked Torey.
         “Go find out. Read a newspaper,” Johnathan replied curtly.
         Torey was startled by the response; he wanted an answer, not a challenge. “How do I do that?”
         “That’s your first lesson — finding things you need to know. Torey, it’s time for me to go,” said Johnathan as his image began to fade.
         “That’s it! Go find out! Wait!” Torey shouted, but only a whisper came out.
         “We’ll talk again,” came faintly from a distance.
         Johnathan was gone. Torey was alone. The room was pitch black. His pain returned, and Torey sat on his bed trying to figure out what just happened.
         What kind of crap is that … ‘Go find out. Read a Newspaper.’
         Torey laid back on his bed, fitful sleep overtook him as dawn cracked the eastern horizon.
###

Word Count: 1,759
Readability Consensus (based on 8 readability formulas):
         Grade Level: 4
         Reading Level: easy to read.
         Reader's Age: 8 -9 yrs. old (Fourth and Fifth and graders)

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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/books/entry_id/967776