Page 4 of I Will Ruin You

I felt a rage boiling up inside me for Herb Willow.

“Don’t let one asshole bring you down,” I said, trying not to look at the dynamite but directly into Mark’s eyes.

I thought about Bonnie. I wondered how long it would be before word of what was happening here would spread across town to the school where my wife was a principal. I imagined her running out to her car now. I thought about Rachel and how much I loved her. Wondered whether I would ever see my daughter again.

Love.

“There are people who love you, Mark. You might not think so right now, but I’d bet everything I’ve got on it. Your friends, your parents, your—”

That brought a reaction. A small laugh.

“Yeah, like they give a fuck,” he said. “ ’Specially my dad.”

Then I had a memory about Mark.

“You remember Lydia?” I asked. “Lydia Trimble?”

An oddball, Lodge High’s Carrie. An outcast from a poor family. Withdrawn, dressed in hand-me-downs, a target for adolescent tormentors. A couple of tall boys cornered Lydia one day, dangling her backpack in the air where she couldn’t reach it, telling her to jump for it.

I was set to intervene when Mark LeDrew beat me to it, grabbing one of Lydia’s tormentors by the hair and bashing his head into a locker almost hard enough to knock him out, then turning to the other asshole and telling him to return Lydia’s backpack to her.

Eyes wide with fear, he did so.

But Mark wasn’t done. “Tell her you’re sorry.”

“Sorry,” the guy had mumbled.

And then, a second demand. “Tell her she looks really nice today.”

While his friend was still massaging his head, the kid said, “You look nice today.”

“Now fuck off,” Mark said, and the two assholes took off.

I related the story. Mark nodded, remembering. “I thought you were going to expel me.”

I’d forgotten the part where he realized I’d witnessed the altercation. All I’d done was mouth the word Go and let him get away with it.

“That’s who you are,” I told Mark. “You’re that guy who stood up for Lydia. Not some guy ready to blow up the school and himself. Be that other guy.”

I don’t know that I’d ever seen such sadness in someone’s face. If it weren’t for his dynamite vest, I would have taken him into my arms, hugged him. His eyes, which only a moment earlier seemed vacant, now glistened, as though he were about to cry.

He took his left hand from his pocket and wiped away a tear from his left cheek. There was a second one trickling down his right cheek. I hoped he didn’t reflexively wipe it away with his right hand, taking his thumb off the button in the process.

“Mark.”

He looked away.

“Mark, listen to me. Look at me.”

He did.

“I want you to walk out into the middle of the yard. Away from the building and the cars. And I’m going to call the police and tell them to get their bomb disposal guys here so they can get that thing off you safely. Hear what I’m saying?”

There was something in his eyes. He was really looking at me, for once. His chin started to quiver.

“I don’t think I know how to stop it,” he said.

“That’s why we’re going to call in the experts. You’re gonna let them do their thing. You’re gonna be a hero. You’re going to keep anyone from getting hurt. You just keep your thumb on that button, and when the cavalry get here, they’ll figure it out. But I need you to start moving away from the school now. Are we good?”