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Joan Esherick, Mason Crest Publishers Page 1 of 7
These two chapters are excerpted from The Journey Toward Recovery: Youth with Brain Injury. The chapters include part of the story of Jerome before and after he sustained a brain injury, as well as some basic information and facts about traumatic brain injury.
Chapter 1: Gone
The sun felt warm on Jerome’s bare shoulders as he sat munching on the granola bar he’d just taken from his bike pack. His legs and arms felt crusty with dirt and sweat; his hair dripped with perspiration. He was chilled, but it was a good chill, the kind that comes after your body works really hard, then pauses to rest a while. Granted, the cold, lumpy boulder he reclined on wasn’t comfortable, but it provided relief from the constant jarring of the mountain biking he and his best friends, Eric and Tommy, had been doing all morning. It felt good to relax in the sun.
“Yo, Germ,” Eric called to Jerome.
Eric was one of only three people who could get away with calling Jerome by his childhood nickname, a name he earned in first grade when he gave the chicken pox to everyone else in his class. That was nearly ten years ago. Now, only Eric, Tommy, and Jerome’s kid sister Jenny, who first said “Germ” when she was little because she couldn’t say “Jerome,” dared to call him that. He wouldn’t stand it from anyone else.
Eric slowly sat up from his grassy spot next to the boulder where Jerome rested. “I’ve been thinkin’ a lot about what happened at practice.”
“What! You feelin’ sorry for the geek now?” Jerome cocked his head in disbelief.
“Well . . . no . . . I don’t know. I mean, like, yeah . . . well no . . . I guess it could’ve been funny.
“It was funny,” Tommy cut in. Blindly loyal to Jerome, Tommy always took Jerome’s side no matter which side of right or wrong Jerome found himself on. “Did you see the look on Stevie’s face when he plowed into Coach?”
“I guess. But, I don’t know,” Eric continued. Ignoring Tommy for a minute, he looked up at Jerome, took a deep breath, and exhaled slowly. “It’s not like he can help being the way he is.” Then he glanced away.
Eric played the conscience of their trio. It had always been that way. They each had a role to play and played it well.
Jerome was a popular, do-no-wrong prankster, unquestioned leader, and athlete extraordinaire—everybody loved him and wanted to be like him. At Northeast High School, being Jerome’s friend meant that you’d arrived—a pretty impressive status considering that Jerome was only a junior. But then again, he’d always been ahead of the game. Now, as a starting varsity football player, Jerome’s standing in the invisible hierarchy of senior high social life was secure. He reigned supreme.
Tommy, meanwhile, played the consummate groupie. He was Jerome’s go-fer and all-around yes-man. Everyone knew he belonged to Jerome’s inner circle only because they’d grown up together and their families had been life-long friends. His athletic prowess certainly didn’t qualify him; he played third-string football. But bench-warming on Jerome’s team was better than not being part of the team at all. He was content with his part.
But Eric was different. Sure, he clowned around with the best of them and was a gifted athlete, but he also cared about the underdog, a concern that had intensified after watching his mother struggle with cancer. She’d won the first skirmish and was cancer free, but her battle changed the way Eric looked at things. Life wasn’t a game anymore. Things happened. People got hurt or sick when it wasn’t their fault, and sometimes there was nothing anyone could do. His mom’s illness taught him that, and he discovered compassion and boldness along the way. Eric was willing to speak up now in ways he’d never risked before—something Jerome found irritating. Still, although he’d never admit it of course, Jerome secretly admired Eric.
“C’mon, guys,” Eric confronted his friends. “I mean, tying Stevie’s shoelaces to the practice bench while he was sitting there keeping the books?” Eric looked at Jerome questioningly, then dropped his gaze and started pulling the grass next to him. “The kid has enough trouble walking as it is. He coulda gotten hurt, you know. And he was only doing what Coach told him to do.”
“We don’t need some gimp like him keeping our stats!” Jerome seethed as he sat up on the boulder. “Especially when I’m starting varsity. All I need is for him to screw up the record, which he will, and then my stats go in the toilet. I’m counting on those stats for a scholarship. Besides, a kid like that doesn’t belong on any football team, let alone ours. We’re better off without him.”
Jerome’s anger surprised Eric, but he persisted. “Look, Germ, Stevie may not be able to walk right, but he’s good at math; he’s in geometry with me, and he’s really smart.” Eric paused, then plowed ahead. “He’s okay, once you get to know him. He’ll do a great job on the . . .”
“Just get off it, man!” Jerome stood up. “What’s wrong with you? I was only thinking about the team. I thought if I did some of this stuff, maybe he’d get the hint and just quit. I don’t get what the big deal is anyway. Everybody else thought it was funny. Even Stevie laughed.” Jerome snatched his lunch pack and stormed back to where the bikes were parked by the trail.
“What’s up with him?” Eric looked at Tommy. Tommy shrugged. Then, glancing back to where Jerome had just reclined, Eric noticed Jerome’s biking helmet.
“Yo! You forgot your lid,” Eric called after his retreating friend.
“I don’t need it.” Jerome shouted over his shoulder as he mounted his bike. “I’m outta here.”
Tommy and Eric scrambled to gather their gear, but by the time they reached the bikes their friend was gone. They’d have to ride fast to catch him.
* * *
I don’t get Eric anymore. Jerome fumed as he pedaled down the mountain. The wide, flat, cinder path made for smooth riding, a nice change of pace from the rocky woods trail they’d covered earlier in the day. Jerome’s mind wasn’t on the changing trail, though; it was on his changing friend.
From Mason Crest Publishers. Used with permission. www.masoncrest.com.
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