Chapter 3: I'll Never Eat Apples Again

Chapter 3 I’ll never eat apples again

After hearing that deep voice I switched off for a while. I took a few days off and focused on keeping all of them out of my head. I didn’t know at the time, who belonged to the voice that answered me and despite feeling excited that I could actually communicate with people directly for the first time in my life, I was too freaked out to try it again for a while. I listened to my favourite old Wu-tang albums. The strong confidence of Method-Man and the rest of them distracted me for a while and after a few days I plucked up the courage to go back to school. I had to go anyway because I had a math exam. I was given special permission to do my math test alone. I guess everyone could tell something was up. I decided to take my test to the junior area for a change of scenery. I liked the plants that hung from outside the classroom windows in the primary area of the school. It felt easy seeing all the kids paintings on the walls as I sat down at a bench. I started to do my test when I heard a boys’ voice in my head.

I’ll never eat apples again! They are normally in most students’ lunch boxes, right next to the sandwiches and the packet of chips, and I used to eat them all the time. I used to be an apple eater just like anyone else until things got crazy at school. It started with my fake friendship with Andy Zhou. Andy Zhou was never my real best friend, I mean everyone thought we were inseparable best buddies, but they didn’t really know what was going on — and neither did Andy for that matter. I definitely acted like a best friend, and he had no reason to doubt anything I said, but he didn’t have a clue what was going on in my head. We sat next to each other every 15 day at school right at the front of the class because we were the best two students in grade 6. He was forever sitting in the number one seat; I was stuck at number two, in the era of seating by academic rank.

Straight away I wanted to say something back to him. I wanted to tell him that it didn’t matter what position you were in school and that it was just a number. I tried to complete my math exam and went back to the high school area, trying to think of a way to help him. That afternoon, his voice came back to me:

Andy Zhou was basically Mr. Perfect. He was consistently at the top of the Math, English and Science classes, and this frustrated me all the time. I was always second best in every assignment, project, and exam. He was fractionally beating me in every subject, even in Physical Education where we both struggled. There he was fifth last, and I was fourth last. It was killing me, but he didn’t know I was jealous at all. His perfection didn’t stop in the classroom. He was better than me at everything else too. I constantly lost to him at every PlayStation and Nintendo game we played. I was always finishing books weeks after him. The thing that really got to me was his skills in Yu-Gi-Oh. We collected Yu-Gi-Oh cards religiously and even held huge tournaments in the Math room at lunchtime. I spent all the money I had on these cards, but it didn’t matter — Andy always had at least double that of mine.

I was going to try and give him some advice but thought that it might freak him out, after all he was only a little kid. But I was focused on him and soon I could hear his voice again:

Andy Zhou was also effortless in his perfection. He seemed to breeze through learning something without even showing any signs of misunderstanding. One time we had a history exam where we had to remember a ridiculous amount of times and dates. I spent the whole week trying to memorize every time, date, and place for hours every night. I even stayed up all night studying before the test. During this time Andy seemed to be preoccupied with his Yu Gi Oh cards, and only glanced at his book at times in history class. He didn’t seem worried at all before the test, and for good reason. He got 100% correct, not a single answer wrong! I struggled to get a 91% and slept for sixteen hours straight in exhaustion afterwards. Another time, we had to make a presentation in geography class about a country of our choice. I chose Japan, and even made a seventeen page PowerPoint presentation complete with animation, music, and hypertext links. Andy was even more impressive, choosing the country Mexico. He brought a new projector to class, and showed slides of his own personal trip to Mexico. He then passed around pieces of ancient stone that he had 17 collected from ancient Aztec temples. He topped that off with a selection of Mexican foods that he had cooked — to perfection — in the early hours of the morning. The class enjoyed the tacos, carnitas, and nachos as Andy finished his presentation. The result, Andy topped the class of course, with an unbeatable grade of A++ +, I finished second with a measly A+.

He was clearly jealous and it wasn’t getting better. Maybe he was a little bit like Sun Li, thinking about something horrible. Maybe I could try and stop him, he was a kid so it couldn’t be as bad as those others.

I was so sick of being second. Things needed to change. I wanted to be first for a change. Actually I always wanted to be the best. I thought about it so much I couldn’t sleep at night. Andy’s A+++ and 100% results bounced around my head at night making me dizzy. I hated him and his constant winning so much that I began to think of a plan, a plan to bring him down, a plan to get him out of my way at last.

He was writing in a diary, a secret diary and I was hearing every word:

Last Monday Sacrifices had to be made. Being the complete nerds that we were, we usually stayed in the classroom at lunch. We played Yu-Gi-Oh without fear of being called names. This was where everything started. I had a plan. I had bought some extra thick permanent markers especially for that lunch time. I was focused on executing my plan, so I didn’t even notice losing my favorite cards, which happened to be my fifth consecutive lunchtime loss. My pile of cards was growing smaller every day, and luckily, I didn’t lose again. I had some help with my plan. Tommy, another fake friend, would play his part well. I had made a secret deal with him in order to put my plan into motion. He didn’t fail me. I saw him waiting outside the classroom patiently. I nodded to him, and he nodded back. I said to Andy, holding the permanent markers, “Hey look what I’ve got.” He pushed his glasses up, and squinted like he always did, staring at them, “No way, you didn’t swipe them from the 19 teachers’ office did you? You know students aren’t supposed to have them.” “I’ve got them, now, don’t I? And I have an offer for you,” I replied, setting my trap. He gave me a puzzled look, “What are you talking about, Kenji?” I said with a smile, “I’ll give you all my cards if you do one little thing for me.” The puzzled look vanished, and suddenly he looked interested. “What do you want me to do?” “All you have to do is write something for me on my desk.” I mimicked writing on my desk with the marker. He said, “You can’t be serious Ken, I’ll get in trouble if anyone finds out, I don’t want to ruin my perfect record, you know.” I had anticipated an answer like that from Mr. Perfect Andy Zhou, which is why I knew exactly what to say to him to convince him. I said, “I promise I won’t tell anyone, come on, it’s on my desk, if anyone gets in trouble, I will.” The confusion came back to his face, “But why on your desk?” I said, “You know I’m half Japanese, right?” He nodded. “I 20 want to show everybody I don’t care what they say about me!” “What are they saying?” he asked. This was where it got tricky. I had to use my best acting skills for him to believe me. I put on a sad expression. I opened my eyes wide — trying to look like a victim. “Don’t you hear what they are saying behind my back every day?” “What? Like, ‘There go the nerd boys’? They call me that too, you know, I’m used to it. You shouldn’t let that stuff bother you . . . it comes with being the best in the school, you know.” “No I don’t mind that,” I said, “it’s just they call me other stuff now too.” “Like what? I only hear the usual nerd boy or math man.” I then tried to squeeze out a tear, but all I got was a red face. “I hear them say, ‘Jap go home,’ all the time, and stuff like that.” Andy’s face went red too. “Really? That’s totally unacceptable behavior. We should tell Mr. Wang, and maybe even the principal!” “No. No it will only get worse then.” I almost shouted. “We just need to get back at them another way.” I paused, as if I was thinking. “We can do it artistically, if you know what I mean?” 21 “What do you mean?” Andy asked, taking the bait. “Here is my suggestion. I’ll give you all of my cards if you write ‘Jap Go Home’ on my desk. Do we have a deal?” I pointed the marker at him. I was eager to get things started. Still cautious, “But why write something so mean?” he asked. “It’s sarcasm, Andy. Don’t you know what sarcasm is?” He nodded. “Once everyone reads it, they won’t feel like saying it anymore. If it’s written on my desk, they will think either someone has gone way too far, or nothing can bring Kenji Ishikawa down!” Andy didn’t say anything, as he thought about my plan. I tried not to smile, as I thought to myself that I put on a good performance. After a few moments, Andy said, “Oh I understand now.” He smiled, and grabbed the marker from my hand. “I’d be glad to help out my best friend!” At that moment, it was too late to take anything back. Thinking he was helping me, he wrote in big black letters on my desk, “JAP GO HOME.” As he did this, I signaled behind him, clapping my hands for Tommy to look in the window from outside. I saw him peer in, watching it all with wide eyes. I pushed the guilt deep 22 down, and clapped twice — the signal for Tommy to leave — and his head disappeared from the window. After that I knew things would change for sure.

So then I decided I would go to him and write a messege. I had a few cards, that I used to write messeges to people with a marker. I usually wrote: I can’t speak, I don’t mean to be rude. But this time I had to follow that up with some more. I found him outside his class and showed him the first card:

Hi, I’m Jerry, I’m in year 12

He just gave me a puzzled look

Who’s this weirdo

2nd card: I’m also here to help the primary kids if they have any trouble.

This wasn’t a lie, I believed that was my actual job at the time

He said, ‘I’m not in trouble I’m a good student. The best in the class.’

Just then another boy came out of the class, it was Andy.

He said, ‘Hey Andy, want to play Yu Gi Oh?’

And that was a good enough excuse for them both to run off together.

A few days later he was back to writing in his diary and his thoughts were flowing into my head like a river:

I awoke to my alarm beeping and a sick burning sensation in my throat. The burning grew as my alarm got louder. I kept my eyes closed tight remembering what I had made Andy do yesterday. I felt tears run down my cheeks. Growing frustrated, I wondered why I couldn’t have squeezed a single tear out yesterday. That morning they came in buckets. It was as if I had left a window open, and it had been raining all night, causing my face, pillow and sheets to be soaked. When I didn’t need to at all, I was crying like a baby. I wasn’t crying just because of the guilt.

I was scared, too, scared of the pain. I stopped suddenly, hearing my mum beat on my door, “Time to get up Kenji, big day today!” With a long squeak, like it was 24 crying too, the door opened. I tried hopelessly to wipe my tears on my pillow and hide myself. It was no good. She knew straight away.

She said, “Oh come on, Kenji, not again?” sounding disappointed in me. I hated disappointing her. I forced myself to sit up, and she met me face-to-face with a firm smile. “You’re not still sad about being second to that Andy boy are you? I thought we talked about this. We are going to sort this all out today at school, right?” Hearing this, I felt like crying again. I held back the tears, and got out of bed. I agreed, “Okay, Okaasan.”

This was all I could say without crying even more. Now what happened after that was a little insane. I mean way too crazy for anyone to follow or understand at this point in the story. I’ll fast forward a little, to when we were all in the principal’s office later that day. 25 The Principal’s Office Where lies were needed most Andy sat next to me, knees shaking. Next to him was Tommy who was looking irritated. I, on the other hand, was in complete agony. I sat, head down, still dizzy from the pain.

I couldn’t see at all from my left eye. My head was throbbing, and blood had dried under my nose and cheek. I noticed from the corner of my right eye Andy sneaking peaks at me. He was so worried about me. He should have been more worried about himself. He had no idea what was about to happen to him. It would be the shock of his life. The principal’s door suddenly flew open, and in came an angry-looking Principal Zhang. He was a serious old man, and a seriously smart man, so we had to get our story perfectly right for everything to go as planned. He looked at me first.

Waving his head in disappointment, he asked, “Firstly Kenji, please tell me what happened. Take your time, I’m here to listen, not judge,” he then gave Andy a striking stare, “You don’t say a word.” 26 This gave me the courage to begin my lie. I started my story with my best acting voice,“ I don’t why he did it.

I thought he was my friend.” I heard Andy let out a moan in protest. “He just started hitting me, yelling ‘Jap go home!’ over and over again. I couldn’t fight back — he’s my best friend. I’d never hit him.”

“He’s lying!” Andy yelled, and he suddenly charged at me like a crazed lion. He managed to claw at the side of my face, but I barely noticed. I had been through way worse earlier in the day. The pain was worth it, because it was all I needed. All I needed to become number one. His school life was slipping away from him. I remained completely silent,my eyes on the ground.

Principal Zhang grabbed Andy with his huge hands. He pushed him to the ground, saying in a calm, controlled voice, “I want no more of this racist nonsense in my school! You go back to class. Now!”

He pushed him out the door saying, “I’ll talk with your parents later.” He looked Tommy in the eyes, and asked him, “What do you know about this graffiti business?” Tommy gave me a worried glance then faced Principal Zhang.  

“I saw Andy writing on his desk yesterday. He was the one who wrote ‘Jap go home.’” Principal Zhang looked back at me.

“Is this true, Kenji? Andy has this crazy idea that you wrote it to trick him. Tell me the truth, please?” “He wrote it,” I said truthfully.

But then the lie, “I don’t why, but he did it.” He nodded, staring at my eye.

“Okay, Kenji. I believe you. Now you two get back to class, and please don’t talk about this with anyone — it will only make things worse.”

Tommy and I both sprang to our feet, eager to get out of there. We scurried back to class like mice running from a hungry cat.

I sat down to find Andy’s chair empty next to mine. Kids stared at me, some even poked me in the shoulder, and asked me, “What happened to you? . . . Who beat you up?” I ignored them all. I was done talking, done with lying too.

I didn’t hear much of what Mr. Wang was teaching that day. I was lost in my head as the day dragged on and on. It felt like the longest day of my life. Finally, the bell rang for time to go home, and I felt a weight lift 28 off my shoulders. I hobbled home to find my mum smiling in the kitchen. She said nothing to me and just hugged me long and tight.

After a long silence, she held my hand and looked into my right eye — the only one I could now see out of.

She said, “It worked Kenji!” She was almost laughing. “Andy has been expelled from school! Your fantastic principal called me today to tell me the good news!”

She gave me another big hug. Andy had been expelled. I had gotten exactly what I wanted. The class was mine! No more coming second in anything anymore. I was the smartest kid in grade 6, which basically meant I was the smartest kid in the school. I was on the road to success. It was all worth it!

I decided that was enough, I honed in on his mind and spoke to him:

Kenji, you’re a cheat and liar. What you did was wrong. You know you did a horrible thing and you should be punished!

What? Gee I must have been watching too much TV, or it might be the medication from my eye injury. I want to finish writing in my diary:

Tuesday morning Pain is a necessary step Now I think I can let you know what happened on Tuesday morning. I got out of bed and went to eat breakfast to find a single apple sitting on the kitchen table. My mum followed behind me 29 like a shadow. Still sleepy, I didn’t understand what she was going to do.

That was probably a good thing because I would have run straight back to my room if I had known.

“Are you ready?” she asked, putting her arm tight around my neck, “I love you, son.” She smashed that apple so hard into my left eye that I fell back onto the kitchen table.

Then, as if that wasn’t enough, she came back again and crushed what was left of it into my cheeks. Dizzy from the blow, I tumbled to the kitchen floor. I could see pieces of apple spinning on the floor next to puddles of my blood. Then, I must have passed out.

His mother did that to him? I thought maybe I should call the police but then I thought how could I explain how I knew. She deliberately smashed an apple into his head, it was sickening. He was young but he seemed to have accepted his mothers wishes and really wanted to be number 1. What kind of school was this? This made me so sad and I felt sick. I went to the bathroom and cried like a baby.

I decided then I couldn’t help Kenji, it was too big a problem and I was just a mute so what could I do anyway?

So I went back to room and put on my headphones. Wu-tang again distracting me from the voices inside my head. That deep voice came back soon after.

The next day at school I was surprised when I saw Alisa and her boyfriend walk past. Her boyfriend was that huge Taiwanese boy who was awesome at basketball. He was the next voice in my head.