Polly & Jeremy - Part 4

THE LEFT EYE

Later that afternoon, at five o’clock, Jeremy Valle came home wearing the same clothes he had worn to school.

They were filthy.

He stopped in front of the house.

His father was waiting outside.

Gilberto Valle was six feet tall, weighed around two hundred and twenty pounds, and had black hair with only a few strands of gray. He was forty-nine years old.

He was a rough man.

He wore the torn, dirty clothes of a construction worker.

In his hand, he held a belt.

The moment he saw his son, Gilberto walked toward him.

He was drunk.

“Get inside, you filthy animal!”

Jeremy said nothing.

Gilberto struck him right there in the doorway.

The belt buckle caught Jeremy across the face, leaving a perfect mark over his left eye.

“You stupid, useless retard! Where the hell have you been?”

Jeremy remained still.

Then Joanna Valle appeared.

She was thirty-five years old, five feet tall, weighed around one hundred and ten pounds, and had long brown hair, dark eyes, and extremely pale skin.

She was Jeremy’s mother.

And he was her only child.

Joanna stepped in front of him.

“That’s enough, Gil. Stop!”

Gilberto glared at her.

“That boy takes after you. Weak as a little fag!”

Joanna didn’t back down.

“Get out of here. You’re drunk!”

Gilberto pointed at Jeremy.

“Take the boy inside.”

Joanna took her son by the arm and led him into the house.

Outside, the shouting had drawn the attention of the neighbors. Some came out of their houses to see what was happening. Others watched through their windows.

Gilberto noticed them.

“Never seen a fight before? Get back inside your houses, you fucking busybodies!”

He went inside and slammed the door.

The silence that followed felt even heavier.

Why are we so violent and cruel to the people closest to us?

Maybe because they are the ones who know our weaknesses.

What makes us less violent and cruel is recognizing our own emotions.

But that isn’t easy.

Recognizing what we feel requires us to look inward.

And some people would rather destroy what they cannot understand within themselves.

Over the next few days, Gilberto began leaving the house early with Joanna.

Jeremy was left alone.

One morning, while his parents were out, he entered their bedroom.

He looked at his father’s wardrobe.

He climbed up carefully.

He searched through some things hidden inside until he found something he hadn’t known he was looking for.

A gun.

And several boxes of ammunition.

Jeremy stared at it.

He took it out.

Holding the gun with both hands, he pointed it at the mirror.

For a few seconds, he imagined himself firing.

One.

Two.

Three.

Then he lowered the gun.

He looked at the bullets again.

There were more than sixty-eight.

Jeremy took one.

Put it in his pocket.

Then returned the gun to its hiding place.

Later, at school, Jeremy sat at the back of the classroom.

He wore dark sunglasses.

He tried to hide them behind his hair and remain as invisible as possible.

The class ended.

Before recess, Mrs. Angela began taking attendance.

“Twenty-two. Leonardo?”

“Here!”

“Twenty-three. Kátia?”

“Here!”

Angela continued.

“Twenty-four. Jeremy?”

The entire classroom burst into laughter.

Jeremy was distracted.

The teacher looked at the students.

“Stop laughing. This is serious!”

Nobody stopped.

“Jeremy? Jeremy?” she called, already losing patience. “You in the back! Why are you wearing sunglasses inside the classroom? Take them off. Now!”

Jeremy remained silent.

He simply looked at her.

Mrs. Angela stood up and walked toward his desk.

Before Jeremy could react, she pulled the sunglasses off his face.

And froze.

Her expression changed immediately.

A perfectly defined mark from a belt buckle covered Jeremy’s left eye.

“Oh my God... what happened to your face?”

One of the students answered:

“His boyfriend beat the shit out of him!”

Another added:

“His dad’s a fucking drunk too!”

The classroom erupted in laughter.

Jeremy lowered his eyes.

The teacher looked at the students.

“That’s enough! Stop it!”

But the laughter continued.

What unites people most through motivation is hatred itself.

If you hate someone, maybe it’s because you hate something in that person that also exists within you.

Hatred always surrounds what is different.

We hate because we don’t understand.

And we don’t understand because we are not taught to understand what is different.

Jeremy stood up.

He ran out of the classroom.

The students laughed even louder.

Some of them began throwing pieces of paper at him as he ran through the door.

Then the recess bell rang.

Jeremy went to the most secluded place he could find.

Behind an old wall covered in vegetation, there were small holes between the bricks.

He sat down on the ground.

No one could see him there.

Or at least, that was what he hoped.

For a few minutes, he was alone.

Then a small piece of paper appeared through one of the holes.

Jeremy looked at it.

He picked it up.

The handwriting was small and unmistakably feminine.

Do you want to be my friend?
Yes or Always.
From: your new friend, Polly.
P.S. You can't answer “or.”

Jeremy stared at the note.

A pen appeared through the same hole.

He took it.

For the first time that day, he smiled.

He wrote:

Yes.

Then slipped the note back through the hole.

A moment later, another note appeared.

Can we come out from behind this wall?
P.S. Answer on the back of the note.

Jeremy turned the paper over.

He wrote:

I can't. My face is bruised.

On the other side of the wall, Pollyanna Côrtes struggled to make out Jeremy’s messy handwriting.

But she understood.

She picked up the pen and wrote back:

Why?
Now we're eye-scar brothers.

Jeremy read the note.

He stared at the words for several seconds.

Then he stood up.

He stepped out from behind the wall.

And found Pollyanna on the other side.

Jeremy smiled.

She studied him for a moment.

“You're strange, quiet, and mysterious! What can you do?”

Jeremy hesitated.

“I can...”

“Oh, wait! I just remembered!” Pollyanna interrupted. “It’s Friday!”

She seemed to think of something.

“I need your help.”

Jeremy looked at her.

“With what?”

“I have to take something to Vale Park at eight tonight. Wanna come?”

Jeremy looked confused.

“And...”

Before he could finish, Pollyanna grabbed his arm and pulled him toward another part of the playground.

They moved to a more secluded corner.

Pollyanna stopped.

On the other side stood Miguel Fangio.

She watched him.

Jeremy noticed.

Pollyanna said nothing.

She simply kept staring at Miguel, intrigued.

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