The Simpsons: Bart

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***

I took the lawyer up on his offer. No, not the taxi ride together, though he insisted. When I got out, no one looked at me, minding their own business, or approached me to at least... I don't know... Apologise?

- Here's another one... - on the way out, I was given a pile of papers along with my stuff. Instead of me, the lawyer took them and looked through them and nodded.

When I got them, I found out they were related to me. All sorts of offences, from drinking off the statue of Jibidai Springfield to being involved in the Quimby relative's case.

- And-and that's it? - on the stairs out of the precinct, I caught my breath.

- Yes. Believe me, everyone involved wants to forget about you as much as you want to forget about them. - the lawyer clapped me on the shoulder with a smile.

- Does that happen a lot?

- Ha ha ha... If I was bribed often, I wouldn't ride the bus! - I think that the problem with the bus and not having my own car has something to do with the way of talking about bribery so openly.

- I'm beginning to doubt that I made the right decision..... - maybe I should have fought back and got my revenge. At least capitalise on all the damage? Or if not being selfish, make sure that others aren't treated like this?

- Well, at least I got you a clean slate.... - somehow casually said the lawyer, as if he had ideas, but did not care about my low opinion of him. - It's time for a fresh start, Bart.

With a smile and warmth in his gaze, the lawyer put his right hand on my shoulder....

- What are you doing? - while he reached into my pocket with his left.

- Tz. I've never been good at stealing directly. Well, that's why I became a lawyer! - and waving his hand at me, the lawyer headed for the bus stop.

I looked around a few times, stood there for a couple of seconds like a moron, waiting for a catch, and finally walked on. Stupidly, like everything I do, I walked, I had no idea where I was going.

.....

Upon reaching the nearest electronics shop, I was allowed to charge my phone for a quid. Flipping through the contact book there were a lot of names I got stuck on. Parents, Milhouse, Coach Engle, Mo....

But eventually I called the landlady. After talking to her, I was once again convinced I had nowhere to go.

- What to do next? - I ended up on the nearest bench. Judging by my neighbour comfortably nestled under the newspaper, I found myself in a rather cosy place. Well, at least, a thought-provoking one.

What should I do next?

Go back home?

After everything that's happened?

No, not an option. I just can't. I can't right now.

Rent another flat?

How am I gonna pay for it? My savings would go out the window in a heartbeat.

Get a job?

But where? The police may have lost my file, but Sherry's story hasn't been forgotten.

- ...I guess there's nothing left to do. - Turning to the man, who had stopped pretending to be asleep and was peering at me with one eye, I asked, 'Where can I get a paper as big as this?

.....

The homeless guy chased me away. So now I'm sitting on the steps of a staircase in the park. In my defence, the homeless man had a shiv, and I have a vulnerability to them.

- If you think about it that way, isn't that pathetic? - No, I'm not talking about my situation.

On reflection, I realised that I hadn't solved all my big crises on my own. When I was suspended, it was up to my parents. When they expelled me and I was on the verge, I met Coach Engle, completely by accident, and he was the one who approached me. Sherry's blackmail, to which I acquiesced. Her set-up, which ruined my life, again resolved by a stranger who suddenly appeared and solved all my problems overnight....

Even though that stranger turned out to be a lot worse.

- Have I ever made a decision on my own?

I don't know, maybe it's just in human nature to hope, and if possible, just go with the flow. Maybe there's something I lack to make my own decisions. A mind? Character? Life experience?

Either way, I don't think I can solve my problems on my own. And most likely my attempts will only lead me back into bad company....

and I don't want that. After being behind bars, having some time between tortures, I was able to clear my head, and I realised that I don't want to be involved with drugs in any way. Not just because of the fear of going to jail, but because I didn't like the person they were making me out to be.

- Now that it's so obvious. All that's left to decide is. Who do I ask for help? - Who can I really rely on?

.....

- Well, I'm home.

I waited until the evening to go to the gym. After everything that happened, I didn't want to cross paths with the guys, so I had to wait until closing time.

- Ughhhh... - After taking a few even breaths and exhalations, casting a shadow of doubt in my thoughts a couple of times, I still raised my hand and...

*knock, knock.

Tapped on the glass. Very quietly at first, then with as much force as I could muster to keep the door from harm.

- What kind of arsehole forgets his bollocks?! - swearing, Coach Engle came to the door, raising an angry look after he had opened the lock with his key. - B-Bart?

- G-g-g-greetings, Coach. - Engle's gaze wasn't angry for long, but when he met mine, he rounded up with a look of amusement.

.....

As it turns out, Coach Engle knows about both the police investigation and the arrest. Surprisingly, though, he left it all out without any comment. Coach Engle didn't bug me, didn't call me a fool, didn't even ask me if I was actually involved in all of this.

- And just like that, now I'm told to start fresh....

- That's good. - Nodding his words, Coach turned around and started to roll up the mats.

I wanted to help, but the coach sped up, so any interference from me would only get in the way.

- One thing I don't understand, Bart... - as he was filling the bucket with water, Coach spoke to me again. - What are you doing here?

- I don't know what to do or where to go. And I'm too dumb to figure it out. - I clenched my fists, lowered my head, and swallowed my swelling pride.

- Didn't you call me a nobody last time we met? So why should I help anyone?

Scooping up water and picking up a mop, Coach Engle began scrubbing the floors with increased energy, as if the firm grip along the mop was the only thing holding back his rage. Rage at me.

- I'm sorry... - being eighteen years old, now I feel like a delinquent ten-year-old.

- For what?

- For everything. For saying those words, for letting you and the gym down, for going down that road after-- I'm really sorry. - I could have added that I just didn't know what to do. But I thought the picture was pathetic enough without the excuses.

- Fail? - suddenly the coach latched onto the word, stopping his cleaning and leaning on the mop. - Kids really are maximalists, aren't they?

For the first time during our conversation, a smile appeared on the coach's face. And it was like nothing I'd ever seen before. It wasn't a smile that exuded the joy of victory, pride. No, it was more like Coach Engle smiling at me the way you smile at old friends.

- Bart, I've seen so much talent in my lifetime. Real diamonds, you know? - I shook my head, for I sincerely don't understand where the coach is leading. - Often, success would hit them in the head and they'd keep on keeping on while the other guys not only caught up with them, but overtook them. Some got involved with bad companies for easy money. Some of them went on the lam. There were even cases where they died. Whether it was getting into a fight, thinking they were invincible. Whether it was a drunken car accident.

Coach Engle spoke calmly, but from his eyes, set somewhere in the void, it was easy to tell that all those stories still touched his heart strings.

- And you, Bart, you were never one of them. - As soon as Coach Engle looked at me, his gaze turned sharp. - Like I said when I first saw you on the mats, you have no talent for wrestling.

- But? - how did I get selected for the Olympics?

- Your results, it was a miracle. No, it wasn't, with just a fraction of the talent of all the guys whose falls I've seen throughout my life, you were able to achieve so much through hard work and dedication.

- So I do have a little bit of talent?

- Yeah, but I can still name five guys that I've got right now that are more talented than you. - I wonder if Coach Engle has anything good to say without getting slapped down. - And I guess all I'm saying is. You have nothing to apologise for, you didn't disappoint or let down my expectations, in fact I never had any on you.

...

- ...Coach, do you think that's supposed to make me feel better?

- Why wouldn't it? - Engle was genuinely surprised.

- Naturally!

- Sorry, Bart. And I'm also sorry I inadvertently took advantage of your desire to run away, thinking it was dedication. - said the coach in a husky voice that clearly expressed regret.

- А?..

.....

After my astonishment, the coach stopped the cleanup for good and we sat down in his office. Where he explained that I was a sort of caged tiger..... He said that my condition probably has some name given by psychologists. But the bottom line is that I am uncomfortable in the circumstances I am in, physically uncomfortable. Because the cage is getting smaller and smaller, the pressure on me is getting greater and greater. And wrestling has become a kind of ball thrown into the cage. Which, I, by my wild nature as a Tiger, unaware of the outside world, considered as a kind of sign of will.

- And though it is a ball, the struggle - at length entertained you and distracted you..... The cage continued to narrow. That's why you snapped so often. Angry. You withdrew into yourself.

If you think about it that way, there's something to what your coach said.....

- As your coach, as someone who works with kids, I should have noticed it a lot sooner. I'm sorry.

- But isn't that how everybody lives? Do things they don't like because they have to? - Do we live in a world of caged humans? Is the whole world one big zoo?

- Maximalists... - Coach Engle shook his head with a smile. - Yes, life is not a fairy tale or a wet fantasy. But it's also not as scary as your imagination probably makes it out to be right now. We humans. We have to find joy in new pursuits, combine what we love with what brings us success.... Define success. So, as you can see, it's still very much up to us and our attitude.

- So what am I supposed to do?

- Find a use for what you're good at in a field that you're at least somewhat interested in. Or learn a new skill...

- But. Where can I find a use for myself? Earn a living? Especially with the scandal and the--

- Haa. Do you want me to help you with that? - I nodded vigorously. - Bart. What do you know about wrestling?

...

...

- ...Are you going to continue or--?

- I don't know, Bart, I don't know. The floors are still dirty, and I'm wasting time talking to you.

- Haaah. Okay.

Just like old times, I grabbed a mop and started scrubbing the gym. Maybe being a caretaker is my calling.