Nobody's Fool

full view. He relaxed only when his brother was asleep. Each night Will remained awake in their room until he was sure Wacker was sleeping soundly, and his last waking thought was to remind himself that he must wake up before his brother. Wacker seemed aware of how much he occupied his older brother’s thoughts and was proud to be his waking nightmare.
    And so today Will had finally retaliated. Neither forgiveness nor negotiation nor sweeping policies of appeasement had the least effect on Wacker, and Will had come to suspect that his brother was permanently stuck in attack mode. Until recently Will had tried to do anything he could to avoid even greater cruelty. He now understood that there was no need to fear greater cruelty. If Wacker were capable of greater cruelty, he’d already be engaging in it. And so, this afternoon, when Will saw his opportunity, he’d seized it.
    He’d been awaiting his turn at the commode, and Wacker was stalling as usual. The water running in the tub made Will have to go bad, and Wacker would not share Grandma Vera’s tall, old-fashioned commode, which Wacker was just tall enough to pee over if he stood on his toes and rested his little penis on the cold porcelain. His trickle had stopped minutes before, but he refused to budge.
    â€œCome
on
, Wacker,” Will had whined. “I gotta
go.
”
    Wacker responded by grinning and releasing another spurt of urine into the commode to prove he wasn’t done.
    Will clutched himself. He knew from experience that this could go on a long time. His brother liked to “save it.” He’d stop peeing, then start again, half a dozen times.
    The toilet seat, Will noticed, was raised. Will stared at the seat, then at his brother, who emitted two short blasts of urine, like a signal in Morse code. It acted like a signal for Will, who, before he allowed himself to consider the consequences, let go of his penis, stepped around his brother, grabbed the upraised toilet seat and slammed it, hard.
    Wacker had not been badly hurt. The bottom of the toilet seat was prevented from lying flat against the porcelain by four small rubber knobs that were of approximately the same thickness as Wacker’s penis and which protected him from the full impact. He’d been startled mostly, and the tip of his penis tingled from the concussion. In the split second before he cried out, Wacker formulated a plan, and his eyes narrowed in that way that terrified his brother, and he’d bolted, bare-assed, from the bathroom to play the scene out, a strictly over-the-top performance, for the adults in the kitchen. Will watched through the keyhole while his father and Grandpa Ralph took turns examining Wacker’s penis. Their evident concern for his brother’s well-being caused Will’s heart to sink. Didn’t they understand anything? Didn’t they know that Wacker couldn’t
be
hurt?
    When he couldn’t stand to watch anymore, Will backed away from the door, realizing as he did so that he was standing in warm water. Grandma Vera’s tub was finally full, the water a level sheet right at the top, like glass. He turned off the faucets then, understanding as he did so the full consequences of his rash act. By trying and failing to inflict pain upon Wacker, he had succeeded only in losing the sympathy and slender protection of the adults, all of whom now sided with Wacker. Neither his father nor his mother would protect Will now. By flooding the bathroom, he’d even lost the protection of Grandma Vera, who, he suspected, had been on his side. She alone had seemed to understand that Wacker was cruel and unnatural. Now even she would be on Wacker’s side.
    The way Will saw it, he had two options. One was to stay locked in Grandma Vera’s bathroom for the rest of his life, the other to make a break for it. Maybe Grandpa Sully would take him. He recalled with fondness Grandpa Sully’s fearlessness yesterday, and remembered how his grandfather had winked at him as they drove off, a wink that had conveyed an understanding.
    When the bathroom door rattled and his father’s angry voice orderedhim to unlock the door, Will was already half dressed and fully resolved. Thankfully, he’d piled his clothes on top of the bathroom sink, and they were dry, whereas Wacker’s were a soggy lump on the floor. His sneakers were a little wet, but he didn’t care. By standing on the commode he was able to