UnBound - Neal Shusterman Page 0,25

face-to-face in the doorway, his stepfather looking down at him with that same sick glint of pleasure in his eyes that screams I own you, and there’s nothing you can do about it.

By now Roland’s ears are ringing. The crowd roars from the bleachers, or maybe it’s just the sound of blood rushing though his head, because within seconds he feels an uncontrollable wave of emotion surging through him. It’s the same indescribable force that curls his hands into fists. That makes him hold eye contact a second too long. That lures him into confrontation—a feeling he knows all too well.

Roland bull-rushes forward, more aggressive than ever. But Zane stays calm and in one graceful motion ducks right, hooking his arms underneath Roland’s. Zane thrusts backward, using Roland’s own momentum against him. As soon as Roland feels his feet lifted from the mat, he knows exactly what’s coming next, and he’s helpless to stop it. Even before he’s slammed down onto the mat, he knows this match is over.

. . . And he flashes to a time when he was a child, standing at the edge of a pier—that emotionally precarious moment just before jumping. A memory of looking down, helpless and hopeless. Not because of how far the fall was, but because he knew exactly what would happen the moment he hit the water.

2 • Eight

Today is the day that Roland is going to “grow a pair”—or at least that’s what his stepfather told him as he gazed out to the horizon. Sure, a lot of kids his age jump off the pier, but heights aren’t exactly Roland’s forte at eight years old. Roland’s grandmother moved to Southern California after retiring, which made for a good excuse to escape the land-locked summer swelter of Indianapolis for a kinder, gentler swelter—and a beach day was the only way for Roland and his younger sister to escape their parents, and their drinking. Too bad for Roland his stepfather always seemed to come up with the most creative “character-building” activities when pissed drunk, and now Roland finds himself at the supposed precipice of his manhood—namely, the San Clemente pier. Roland’s stepfather has always been a throw-you-in-the-deep-end kind of guy; however, this brings a whole new meaning to the phrase.

He lifts Roland over the railing, setting him down on the thin ledge on the other side. “See. Everyone else is doing it,” he slurs, failing to see that such values run contrary to that of every parent in the history of parenthood.

His stepfather is known to have a short temper, and Roland smells more than just beer on his breath. “If you jump, I’ll jump too. How about that?” his stepfather says as he grabs the back of Roland’s neck, making Roland tense up even more. “I promise.”

Still Roland clings tight to the splintery railing, terrified.

“Do it,” he commands, and digs his nails tighter into Roland’s arm—and it starts to hurt. So Roland begins to cry. His tears catch in the breeze, and Roland wishes his fear could be windswept along with them—perhaps taken to another place entirely—but his stepfather’s grip keeps him stuck in reality. Others take notice of the scene, which only fuels his stepfather’s rage, so he tries to pry Roland’s fingers from the railing, and Roland’s cries quickly turn into screams.

He breathes into Roland’s ear, “I’m your father. You have to trust me.” But Roland doesn’t trust him, and he knows this man isn’t really his father, so Roland wraps both of his arms around the railing, clinging for all he’s worth—but his stepfather is much stronger. He pulls Roland free, lifts him up, and hurls him down into the water below.

The terrifying fall. A brief sting. An abiding belief that he’s going to keep sinking and drown. But then Roland surfaces, gasping for air. He reminds himself that he can swim. He confirms that, yes, he’s still alive. He treads the chilly water the best he can and waits for the splash that will herald his stepfather’s arrival in the water. I’ll jump too. That’s what he promised. But the telltale splash doesn’t come. And only when Roland looks up does he realize why—his stepfather is frozen at the edge of the railing, clearly still trying to work up the courage to jump. He’s leaning forward as if to dare himself but appears to be gripped by fear that he can’t overcome. He didn’t jump in after Roland like he promised. He didn’t, and he never would.

3 •