When Jeff turned around there were four of them, leaning back against the metal sinks or standing closer to
the showers, watching him. Cubby stood in front of them, Many were smiling, the condescending leer of the
hunter for his cornered victim. Cubby was not smiling, however.
"Ho," Jeff said. Nobody answered. 'I'm completely lost wasn't I in an island? What am I doing in a locker
room?'
So Jeff turned off the shower even though there was still soap on him, and reached for his towel. It wasn't
there. One of the boys was holding it. It was Bernard the monkey.
Jeff recognized the towel as their opening point. Nothing would make him look weaker than to chase naked after
the towel. That was what they wanted, to humiliate him, to break him down. He wasn't going to play. He refused
to feel weak because he was wet and cold and unclothed. He stood strongly, facing them, his arms at his sides.
He fastened his gaze on Cubby.
"Your move," Jeff said
"This is no game," said Bernard. "We're tired of you, Jeff. You graduate today.
On ice."
Jeff did not look at Bernard. It was Cubby who hungered for his death, even though he was silent. The others
were along for the ride, daring themselves to see how far they might go. Cubby knew how far he would go.
"Cubby," Jeff said softly. "Your father would be proud of you." Cubby stifiened. "He would love to see you
now, come to fight a naked boy in a shower, smaller than you, and you brought three friends. He would say, Oh,
what honor."
"Nobody came to fight you," said Bernard, "We just came to talk you into playing fair with the games. Maybe
lose a match now and then." The others laughed, but Cubby didn't laugh, and neither did Jeff.
"Be proud, Cubby Bear, pretty boy. You can go home and tell your father, Yes, I beat up Jeff, who was barely
ten years old, and I was thirteen. And I had only three of my friends to help me, and somehow we managed to
defeat him, even though he was naked and wet and alone -- Jeff is so dangerous and terrifying it was all we
could do."
"Shut your mouth, Wiggin," said Bernard. "We didn't come to hear the little bastard talk,"
"You shut up," said Cubby. "Shut up and stand out of the way." He began to take the rest of his underwear off
"Naked and wet and alone, Jeff, so we're even. I can't help that I'm bigger than you. You're such a genius,
you figure out how to handle me." He turned to the others. "Watch the door. Don't let anyone else in."
Jeff stepped back, letting the fear he felt show in his face. "Cubby, don't hurt me," he said. "Please."
It was what Cubby was waiting for, the confession that he was in power. For other boys it might have been
enough that Jeff had submitted; for Cubby, it was only a sign that his victory was sure. He swung his leg as
if to kick, but changed it to a leap at the last moment. Jeff noticed the shifting weight andstooped lower, so
that Cubby would be more off-balance when he tried to grab Jeff and throw him.
Cubby's tight, hard ribs came against Jeff's face, and his hands slapped against his back, trying to grip him.
But Jeff twisted, and Cubby's hands slipped. In an instant Jeff was completely turned, yet still inside
Cubby's grasp. The classic move at this moment would be to bring up his heel into Cubby's crotch, but for that
move to be effective required too much accuracy, and Cubby expected it. He was already rising onto his toes,
thrusting his hips backward to keep Jeff from reaching his groin. Without seeing him, Jeff knew it would
bring his face closer, almost in Jeff's hair; so instead of kicking he lunged upward off the floor, with the
powerful lunge of the soldier bounding from the wall, and jammed his head into Cubby's face. Jeff whirled in
time to see Cubby stagger backward, his nose bleeding, gasping from surprise and pain. Jeff knew that at this
moment he might be able to walk out of the room and end the battle. The way he had escaped from the battleroom
after drawing blood. But the battle would only be fought again. Again and again until the will to fight was
finished. The only way to end things completely was to hurt Cubby enough that his fear was stronger than his
hate. So Jeff leaned back against the wall behind him, then jumped up and pushed off with his arms. His feet
landed in Cubby's belly and chest. Jeff spun in the air and landed on his toes and hands; he flipped over,
scooted under Cubby, and this time when he kicked upward into Cubby's crotch, he connected, hard and
sure. Cubby did not cry out in pain. He did not react at all, except that his body rose a little in the air.
It was as if Jeff had kicked a piece of furniture. Cubby collapsed, fell to the side, and sprawled directly
under the spray of streaming water from a shower. He made no movement whatever to escape the murderous heat.
"My God!" someone shouted. Cubby's friends leaped to turn off the water. Jeff slowly rose to his feet.