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When Sam was in kindergarten he didn’t notice that the other kids all had backpacks. He hadn’t noticed a lot of stuff that by second grade had been repeatedly brought to his attention by his classmates.
He hadn’t noticed that the other kids didn’t roll up their jeans because they were the right length to not drag on the ground already. He had’t noticed that other kids shirts fit them. He didn’t mind about the clothes. He was proud that Dean had worn his clothes first and that he’d saved them for Sam. Saved them for when Sam was ready to wear them.
The pants were long and the shirts were big because Sam was slow getting his growth going. He knew this was okay and he shouldn’t worry because Dean had told him he would be plenty tall in a while. He only had finish his breakfast and wait a few years. So he was sort of proud of the too long pants from when Dean had been short.
He did sort of wish he had a backpack though. He’d kind of wanted one in first grade, like all the other kids. A backpack to keep his pencils in and the papers that he carried home each afternoon and back to school the next day.
Dean had explained that they couldn’t have a bunch of stuff they didn’t really need because it wouldn’t all fit in the Impala and Sam understood that. He knew Dean didn’t have a backpack like all the 6th graders and so Sam never mentioned it, except the one time.
Marty Stevens had pushed him as he was getting on the bus. Marty liked to push him a lot, getting on the bus, in line for lunch, waiting to come in from recess. Sam had to keep his head up and his eyes sharp all the time for Marty Stevens.
He didn’t mind that too much after Dean explained it to him. Dean said he was lucky because Marty was making Sam more situationally aware. Sam guessed he was glad if Dean said that was a good thing. Dean explained to him, about needing to pay attention to what was happening around him all the time. That kids like Marty were helping him to be a better soldier. Except that one time when Marty pushed him, getting on the bus and Sam had lost his balance and fallen.
He told Dean later his situational awareness had been fine. He knew Marty was going to push him but Marty was a big kid. He was a third grader and had stayed back a year and was a head taller than Sam. Even seeing it coming Sam just hadn’t had enough strength to hold his ground and had gone down hard.
The going down hard didn’t really bother Sam all that much. His Dad had him and Dean wrestling and sparring all the time and Dean was big. Sam went down a lot. He knew how to take a fall and not get hurt, not too much anyway.
No the problem was that he’d had a picture of Dean and Dad and Sam all in front of the Impala that he’d drawn especially for Dean. The teacher had told him it was really good and had put a blue star on it. When Sam went down Marty stepped right on the picture.
That’s where the backpack came in. Sam had explained it to Dean later as his brother put a bandaid on the cut on Sam’s hand from where he’d landed on a sharp rock. He told Dean it would have been better if he had a backpack because it would have kept the picture safe. He told Dean he didn’t think a backpack would take up much room in the car because when they moved Sam could keep all his books and school stuff in it. He told Dean he’d take good care of it and then he’d have it for the next school they went to. He told Dean he thought they both needed backpacks. It would be better.
Dean had laughed and then he had flattened out the picture and said he thought it was great even with the impression of Marty Steven’s sneaker right in the middle of it.
When they left Minot, North Dakota three days later Sam hadn’t really been sorry to go. The teacher had been nice, except for never saying anything about Marty Stevens and his pushing but the motel had been cold and there hadn’t been much to eat there while their dad was gone. So he was just as glad to leave.
Sam remembered Dean sitting in the back of the car with him as the Impala pulled away from the motel and on to the state highway headed south. That stuck in his mind because usually Dean liked to sit up front with dad. He remembered it too because that was when Dean gave him the backpack. He said Marty Stevens had given it to him for Sam. That Marty was real sorry for pushing Sam and wanted him to have the backpack.
It had been a good backpack, lasted Sam all the way to junior high. Sam was reminded of that backpack now, almost twenty years later as Dean closed his car door and passed him a leather messenger bag.
“It’s for the computer.” His brother said, unnecessarily, “you're always complaining about it getting banged up. That vamp wasn’t going to be using it again and he wanted you to have it.”
Sam laughed out loud and slipped the computer in the bag.
Dean gave him a quick sideways glance as he pulled the Impala on to the road.
“What?”
“Nothing,” Sam said. “Thanks, if it lasts as long as Marty Stevens book bag I’ll be all set.”