Free A Troublesome Boy by Paul Vasey Page A

got on with a trucker who was heading straight through. Couple of weeks otherwise. But who gives a shit? As long as we’re on the road.”
    We sat there for quite a few minutes just looking at the cars and trucks disappearing over the top of the hill.
    I nudged him with my elbow. “Well, what’s keeping us?”
    He didn’t answer. He lit up another smoke.
    He’d just pocketed his lighter when O’Hara and his pack of nitwits came around the corner. O’Hara looked at his buddies and then down at Cooper. Wicked smile.
    â€œHow’s the Little Prince?”
    There are assholes in every school and in St. Iggy’s we had more than our share. O’Hara was a grade ten weenie. Parted his hair in the middle and pasted it down on either side with Brylcreem. Way too much Brylcreem. He had a little piggy nose and little piggy eyes. You just wanted to smack him as soon as you saw him.
    Cooper looked up at him, and then at the pack behind him. If O’Hara had had any brains he would have shut up and moved on. But when they were handing out brains he thought they said trains and he got on the wrong one.
    â€œHave fun last night?”
    Cooper was on him before O’Hara knew what hit him.
    I’d never seen Cooper in action before, but he was something to see. O’Hara was a mess of blood and snot and tears, and the blood just seemed to make Cooper go wild. He was kneeling on O’Hara, pinning both arms with his knees and he just hammered him. Left, right. Left, right.
    â€œEnough!”
    Who knew where Father Sullivan came from, but he had Cooper by the jacket and hauled him off O’Hara who was blubbering like a baby. Sullivan turned Cooper around so that he was facing him.
    â€œWhat do you think you’re doing?”
    â€œBeating the crap out of him.”
    O’Hara had managed to sit up. His nose and mouth were a mess.
    â€œHe just jumped me, Father. I was minding my own business and he jumped me. He’s crazy.”
    â€œThat’s not true,” I said. “O’Hara started it.”
    â€œYou stay out of this.” Sullivan wasn’t in the mood to get to the bottom of things. He just grabbed Cooper by the arm, hauled him inside and shoved him in the nearest dungeon.
    O’Hara had managed to get to his knees. I was standing right in front of him. He was wiping his nose and mouth with the sleeve of his shirt. He looked up at me.
    â€œWhat the fuck are you looking at?”
    â€œYou, you retard. You make one more smartass crack to Cooper and after he beats the shit out of you, I’ll finish you off.”
    â€œFuck you.”
    â€œYou wanna go, right now?” I gave him a swift kick in the ribs. “Let’s go. Right now, asshole.” He looked around for his buddies. They had pulled the vanishing act. O’Hara got up and ran for the door.
    Such a chickenshit.
    I sat back down where Cooper and I had been sitting. I lit up a smoke. My hands were shaking, I was so pissed.
    Next thing, I was looking at a pair of size tens and there was Mather.
    â€œWhat happened?”
    â€œO’Hara was being an asshole.”
    â€œHe’s always being an asshole. He was born an asshole. Then he took lessons. What’d he do to Cooper?”
    I told him.
    â€œThat little prick.” Mather turned and walked off.
    â€”
    SAY THIS ABOUT Father Dunlop. He was the easiest guy at St. Iggy’s to derail. Ask him a question about geography and no matter what he was intending to do during class, he’d be off on a wild goose chase. We’d take turns seeing if we could keep him off topic for an entire class. We did it twice.
    Cooper had twisted my brain talking about his beach. I shot up my hand, asked Dunlop about Vancouver Island.
    â€œIt’s very mountainous,” he said. “There’s a ridge of mountains pretty well from one end of the island to the other. Some pretty big mountains, too. Give me a