his side. Even when he was being bullied and ridiculed, he always took comfort in the feeling that he had a special power on his side.
But the kids at school were convinced in their cruel way that Kendall performed all manner of ritualistic evils in his spare time, such as spell-casting, drawing profane symbols on walls, reading banned books and of course sacrificing animals to the devil in the sewers. Kendall often marvelled at the rumours he heard about himself.
He ignored the constant taunting, because he knew inside himself what he believed. However, he was shocked when he was called into the guidance counsellor’s office to discuss his supposed sinister nocturnal doings.
Mr Hawkins was not the best high-school guidance counsellor. While he understood the basic concepts of psychology, and was perfectly able to match students with the applicable university course, he wasn’t very adept at assisting students who actually needed help.
Kendall sat down in the straight-backed school chair in front of Mr Hawkins’s desk and waited for the man to finish signing the paperwork that he was busy with. The office was a kaleidoscope of posters advertising college courses and business schools, as well as tertiary education loan providers that promised low interest rates, the largest poster featured a huge red blood drop that reminded the reader to donate blood that coming Tuesday. Mr Hawkins was still a relatively young man, perhaps thirty-five with messy sand-coloured hair and a tanned complexion. When Kendall saw him in the passages, he was always smiling. He wasn’t smiling now.
“Kendall, I must say I was rather surprised when one of your teachers asked me to have a word with you. There have been concerns voiced by some of the other students over – how shall I put this – your spiritual beliefs.”
Kendall stared at Mr Hawkins blankly.
“I don’t usually do this, you understand. We don’t often come across this sort of nonsense, but yes, there have been concerns … Is there anything you would like to tell me?”
“No.” Kendall slouched in his chair and waited for Mr Hawkins to finish what he wanted to say. He had already retreated into himself. It was his usual way of dealing with things he didn’t want to hear. Years of life with his adoptive father had helped him perfect it.
“Kendall,” Mr Hawkins began, leaning forward, “I need to know what’s troubling you so much that you feel you need to seek solace in something you really don’t understand.”
Kendall looked at the guidance counsellor as if the man had gone mad. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, sir.”
Mr Hawkins sighed and tapped his fingers on the desk. It was one of the messiest teacher’s desks Kendall had seen – every inch was covered with stacks of paperwork.
“I’m going to be frank with you. I don’t think you’re a bad kid, Kendall, just misguided maybe, but you have to stop this satanic stuff; it’s scaring the other students.”
Kendall had had enough. “Could I ask you to do me a favour, Mr Hawkins? Could you call my brother Justin in here, please?”
“You mean right now?”
Kendall nodded. “It’s important.”
Mr Hawkins looked at Kendall in bemusement. “All right, fine. Stay right here.”
Kendall waited as Mr Hawkins left the room. He was angry, which bothered him. He was becoming so good at not allowing other people to affect him – he could go for days without feeling any pain at all. The anger he felt at that moment was raw, though. It was mingled with all the humiliation of the past few weeks suddenly bubbling to the surface. Struggling to subdue the emotions welling up inside him, he quickly wiped his eyes as Mr Hawkins came back inside, followed by his brother.
Justin seemed surprised to see him and sat down in the empty chair to Kendall’s right looking from his brother to the guidance counsellor.
Mr Hawkins returned to his seat, smiling smugly. “Now that we’re all here, perhaps you can tell us what this is all about, Kendall.”
Kendall felt his cheeks burn as he turned to his brother. “A teacher asked Mr Hawkins to speak to me after some students had complained about me being a Satanist.”
Justin’s eyebrows disappeared into his fringe. “What?” He turned to Mr Hawkins. “That’s ridiculous! Kendall is more religious than I am. Tell whoever complained to get stuffed.”
Mr Hawkins smiled uncomfortably. “It wasn’t only one student who complained, I’m afraid. It seems that quite a number came forward and spoke out. I hardly think there’s a conspiracy against your brother, Justin. The staff has to investigate if they believe there’s a valid claim.”
“I don’t believe this!” Justin said, raising his voice. “Tell me who complained and I’ll go tell them where to get off.”
“You know I can’t do that,” Mr Hawkins said, his smile fading.
“Yeah well, I’m telling you that my brother is not a Satanist. He spends most of his time after school with me anyway, and that’s as good as saying I’m a Satanist. And if that’s what you’re doing, you’re really walking a fine line.”
Mr Hawkins sat back in his chair and crossed his hands over his chest. “Okay, Justin. You’re a good kid. I’ll take your word for it.”
“I’m glad we understand each other. Get up, Kendall. We’re done here.”
Kendall didn’t look at Mr Hawkins as he followed his brother out of the room. “I’m sorry I called you out of class,” he said as Justin slammed the door behind them.
“Don’t worry about it. It was boring anyway.”
“Are you sure? Are you upset with me? Thanks for standing up for me in there.”
“Don’t worry about it, Kendall. I’ll see you later, just stay out of trouble, okay?”
Kendall watched his brother dart down the passage after a group of boys emerging from a classroom, and he suddenly felt very lonely. His brother had come through for him, but he wished more than anything that he had a friend.
Walking home
Justin waited for his brother every day after school so that they could walk home together. Despite the fact that Kendall was perhaps the uncoolest person in Percy Fitzpatrick High and that being seen with his brother jeopardised his own popularity, Justin made that one concession. He understood only too well the cruelty of his fellow students, and if his brother didn’t make it home safely each day, he would never be able to forgive himself. It was a promise he had made to himself when they were both younger.
One of the many characteristics that had secured Justin’s popularity at high school was his unflinching attitude in confrontational situations. He would never back down from a fight. He never quite noticed how much his behaviour mirrored his father’s. He did, however, notice how this macho stance affected the female population of the school, who giggled and looked away each time Justin walked past. It also earned him the respect of the other boys, who could hardly look down their noses at somebody who could easily break them for doing so.
Despite his willingness to use his muscle, Justin was usually quite placid. As long as no one crossed or upset him. So the
