The Planet of Junior Brown (2 page)

“He's just always got to be so right,” Buddy couldn't help saying about Junior.

Junior Brown stayed quiet. He tried again to appreciate the fun they'd been having but he had already separated himself from it. He was outside of it, for fear it would turn on him.

“There's a band of asteroids right behind the planet of Junior Brown,” Junior said. “I see a whole bunch of thirty of them.”

“That's right,” said Mr. Pool. “The asteroids and earth make two equilateral triangles with the planet of Junior Brown and the sun.”

Then Buddy said, “Any three bodies in space forming an equilateral triangle will revolve in a circular orbit around one of the three …”

“I know it,” Junior said softly. He wished he could just go home to his room. But he continued. “One triangle is Junior Brown, the asteroids and the sun. And the other is Junior Brown, the earth and the sun. It comes from the Lagrange proof that every planet will have in its orbit two points of gravitational equilibrium where matter could settle …”

“Good for you,” Mr. Pool told Junior. “I hope you can see that each point would be the third corner of an equilateral triangle formed by drawing lines between it and the planet and the sun.”

Junior looked from Mr. Pool to Buddy, then down to the spheres of the solar system. He was feeling pretty good inside, for Mr. Pool and Buddy had gone to a lot of trouble to take his mind off things. Junior always did like to play games. Only this planet of Junior Brown was almost more attention and kindness than he could stand. Rocking gently back and forth, he cupped both hands over his eyes.

Understanding Junior's shyness, Mr. Pool thought to look away. He turned toward Buddy Clark, who stood bathing his hands in the feeble light. Buddy seemed not to know what to do next to show his regard for the huge and talented, often helpless fat boy.

Mr. Pool smiled at the wonder of Buddy Clark, for seldom had Mr. Pool come across a street boy like him. He had found Buddy a year ago in the straggly, rough-house pit of the seventh grade. Hidden until the school was empty and looking like any half-wild alley cat, Buddy had crept from his hiding place and had picked the lock of the nearest classroom. Once inside, Buddy had opened a book he had with him and had filled the chalkboard with math problems beyond his comprehension.

So it had seemed, thought Mr. Pool.

Watching from the shadows of a year ago, he had discovered that Buddy could get through two or three problems difficult even for a college student. Weeks later Mr. Pool had thought of taking over a forgotten basement room and making it into a hidden place from where he might help and teach the boy.

But a year ago, skittish and suspicious of any adult, Buddy Clark had bolted. He hadn't sneaked back into the classroom at night for a month. The next time Mr. Pool saw him, Buddy had Junior Brown with him.

Junior Brown. A year ago Mr. Pool had seen Junior around. He'd heard Junior playing the piano in the music room but he hadn't gone near him.

With his talent, Junior should have been given all the care he needed. But so fat, so awful to look at. The school, like Mr. Pool, had left him alone.

From the very first he had been careful of the two boys. Last year, letting them know he was there in the shadows, he had kept his distance and was as cautious as any teacher ought to be.

Mathematics cushioned by astronomy had long ago been Mr. Pool's waking thought. Surely he had been successful in his classroom teaching. Tough, black children of city streets could lay bare their minds in his loud and open classes.

But I lost heart, thought Mr. Pool. I could no longer teach in so rigid a regime. Maybe I was wrong. Things change—has any of it really changed?

Only now, through his work with Buddy Clark and the example of Buddy's devotion to Junior Brown, did Mr. Pool slowly begin to believe in himself again. He could no longer remember when he arrived at the curious notion that the two-legged beings on earth were only disguised as men. Working with Buddy, he sensed a whole new being lying in wait within the boy.

Perhaps the human race is yet to come, thought Mr. Pool. We must make life ready.

Buddy Clark moved through the darkness of the hidden room with its solar system until he was standing beside Junior Brown. Gently he feinted a couple of left jabs to Junior's head and succeeded in easing the fat boy out of himself.

“Shuh, man,” Junior said, half in anger. Swinging one of his enormous arms, he knocked Buddy away into darkness.

Buddy laughed, surprised, as he always did when reminded of the sheer strength of Junior Brown. Above them in the school, buzzers sounded, followed by muffled scuffling, like hundreds of rats trapped in an attic.

“Two-fifteen,” Buddy said. “We still got us some time.” He looked down at the mighty planet of Junior Brown. “Let them crack those books.”

Junior Brown shifted his bulk in the folding chair. “I thought I'd maybe leave early,” he said. He did not look at Buddy.

Buddy was silent a moment. Lately, Junior would try to get away by himself. Buddy never could figure out if Junior was trying to get rid of him.

“You leave early,” Buddy said, “and you going to have to go down to the river and wait longer than you would ordinary, since it's Friday, anyway.”

Immediately, Buddy knew he shouldn't have mentioned Friday. He could have kicked himself when he saw Junior trying to hide his 262-pound body within the flab of his arms.

“Listen, man,” Buddy said to Junior, “Mr. Pool and me, we haven't even finished our entertainment. We got us a whole show ready—how much you know about our universe?”

Junior had to shake his head, for what he knew about the universe had come from his friendship with Buddy Clark. He never felt close to it the way he felt close to music. The feel of space between quarter notes or the arrangement of space in an arpeggio played properly made Junior completely happy. But the rhythms of the universe and the vastness of its space brought him only loneliness.

“Mr. Pool here knows all about the universe,” Buddy said. “Nothing he don't know, so you can set yourself easy, Junior, we going to give you a circus ride.”

Mr. Pool waited in the weak glow of the planets to see if Buddy could reassure the fat boy for one more time.

What would happen, he wondered, if Buddy got tired of it and let Junior leave early? Would Junior hurry off? Or would he stay, afraid to move without big Buddy to shadow him?

Mr. Pool's hands came into the light, touching spheres as they moved, and testing the rods from which they were suspended.

“The universe,” he said, “has to be the same everywhere, in all directions. Our solar system in the Milky Way is not unusual or different. Our own planet of Junior Brown in the solar system is quite ordinary.”

Junior Brown knew his planet was huge in the solar system but only a speck in the Milky Way.

“Heavenly science demonstrates that nature is the same everywhere,” Mr. Pool said. “The universe acts the same everywhere. This being so, the Milky Way, the solar system and the planet of Junior Brown hold no unusual position.”

“Space and time,” Buddy Clark said. He let the feeble light slip through his fingers. “Energy, matter, gravitation and light.”

“Not space,” said Mr. Pool, “nor light nor any of the others can be measured alone, but only in relation to one or more of the others.”

Alone.

Across the span of planets, Junior Brown thought, Who am I? What can I know? It's Friday. Outside me, it might be Monday. Or nothing. Or something terrible.

“Earth creatures will not survive forever,” droned Mr. Pool. “Our solar system, our Milky Way, will not survive. Travel to other galaxies will remain impossible …” He sighed. “… for movement in space seems not to exceed the speed of light. Traveling at the speed of light, it would take a being two million years to reach Andromeda, our neighboring galaxy… .”

Soon buzzers again sounded above the three of them. “… When the youngest stars of our Milky Way die as all things will die,” said Mr. Pool, “life for beings will end.”

Junior Brown got up slowly from his chair, his unbelievable girth of flesh and fat spreading out from his powerful frame.

If all things were bound to die, what was the point of being born? Junior thought.

“
A'm lookin' forty mile
,” he sang softly to himself, “
Believe a'm fixin' ta die . .
.” He moved away from the light of the solar system into the void.

“Wait a minute, man,” Buddy told him.

“I got to hurry, I got me someplace to go,” Junior said.

“I know all about someplace you got to go,” said Buddy. “It's Friday, man.”

Buddy scrambled through the dark after Junior. When they both were within the false broom closet, they began groping around on the dark floor. After a moment Junior found his Fake Book. In no way false, the Fake Book was a thick volume of jazz and rock tunes arranged and copied professionally and in keys suitable for the average singer. The book had cost Junior's mother fifty dollars. Junior always carried the book although he never used the arrangements. But hidden inside were his music lessons and his own classical compositions.

Next Junior found a pile of torn and battered textbooks. He grabbed a couple of books and placed them safely with his Fake Book under his arm. Buddy took a couple of books also. Then, facing the door, the two of them stood side by side waiting tensely for Mr. Pool to release them.

In the hidden room, Mr. Pool turned off the lights of the solar system by shutting off the system's power source. In the total darkness, he stalked the planets until he found the big one called Junior Brown. The planet hung at a height the level of his chest. Mr. Pool found it with his hands on his first attempt.

He had to smile. Superstitious, he couldn't help suspecting that the planet of Junior Brown vanished as though it never existed once its light was turned off.

But the planet of Junior Brown was safe in the room. That, to Mr. Pool, was a great comfort.

In a moment Mr. Pool stood in the broom closet. Opening the door slightly, he listened awhile to the tramping feet, the noise of children. Then he called softly to Junior and Buddy that they could leave.

“I don't need to remind you …” he said.

“No,” said Buddy.

“I will anyway,” said Mr. Pool. “One of these days we're going to get caught.”

“Right on,” Buddy said.

“Further on,” Junior said.

“And they will get rid of me, like maybe they've been itching to do for years,” Mr. Pool said.

“We're sorry about that,” Buddy said, his voice rougher now.

“You are not to worry,” Mr. Pool said. “They'll fire me and we'll get together with the solar system somewheres else.”

Buddy and Junior slipped quickly through the door. They tiptoed down the long hall which turned twice, until they had reached the outer door.

Buddy Clark took a bunch of keys from his pocket and unlocked the triple police lock. Outside, a line of students streamed down the steps at the front of the school. When the stream was large enough to become raucous, Buddy rushed up the basement steps with Junior close behind him. In the mass of students the boys separated. Alone, neither of them registered on the mind in any special way. For one more time they had worked their escape.

Buddy hummed to himself as he always did at the moment he knew that he and Junior were going to make it. Two blocks beyond the school he saw Junior, whom he had allowed to pass him, and caught up with him.

Junior didn't look around when Buddy came up beside him.

“You got anything particular in your mind?” Buddy asked him.

“Just me going to the river,” Junior told him. He didn't feel like talking to Buddy anymore, or anyone. The effort of talking and walking at the same time took his breath.

“I'll just go with you,” Buddy said, “make sure you don't slip and fall in that messy water.”

“Not going to fall. Even if I did, I can swim enough,” Junior told him.

“Shoot,” Buddy said. “You is big as a boulder and you would sink as fast as a boulder.”

“Shuh,” Junior said. He refused to speak to Buddy for the rest of the way.

2

JUNIOR LOVED THE
low sky and the Hudson River surrounded by zero winter. The river was smooth. Breaking into it was a light of yellow mist out of a sky the color of sulfur and filled with fumes from chemicals. The sky above the river was vibrant with cold poison, the kind of sky Junior felt he knew best. Cold winter was the one season he could be outdoors and feel comfortable seeing the day. In this late November he wore only a yellow Dacron shirt and brown denim trousers.

The river looked clean. The putrid light out of the sky made New Jersey on the far bank seem a fantasy Christmas land atop the Palisades. These past weeks Junior had needed Jersey to seem as unreal as possible. He had needed to wipe it away with a flick of his hand over his vision, if only he could.

“
A'm a low-life clown, with muh head on upside dow-ow-wown
,” he sang.

He and Buddy had climbed the iron fence on the bank of the river and now braced themselves against boulders at the water's edge. They filled their pockets with rocks. Here there were rats living on the river's filth. Not even freezing winter could rid the shore of its awful smell.

“I can't stand it, whew!” Buddy said.

“Shuh,” Junior told him. He wished Buddy would just disappear.

“But I'm cold. I already froze myself getting here,” Buddy said, “and you going to freeze yourself too.” Buddy wore his windbreaker; even so the weather coming off the water went right through it.

“Whyn't you go on home then?” Junior said. “Nobody ask you to freeze your diaper out here.”

They settled down uncomfortably on icy rocks. Junior put his Fake Book and torn textbooks carefully down beside him. He was feeling mean toward Buddy and impatient with the slow passage of time. He could tell by the dull yellow light closing in on them that the time was about three-thirty. He still had a whole hour to get down to 79th Street and Broadway.