I’m sorry I didn’t get this up sooner. I was busy with a lot of other projects. I’m thinking about doing Project Silent for Nano this year.

This chapter is rated PG13 for brief language and innuendo.

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October 5^th

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

1

There’s a line between everything. Nearly anything is acceptable up to a certain point when it bursts through moral borders and becomes wild, uncontrollable, and still can be someone’s sickest pleasures.

I just want you to remember that. It will make sense in time.

2

I woke up to The Cranberries “Promises” booming from my alarm clock radio. I had tuned it to a rock station; so loud that it could wake up Sleeping Beauty, no matter how tired I was.

I shuffled through my room, pulling clothing over my limbs and head, not caring what I’d wear. I slept so bad last night I didn’t even notice if my shirt had a grape-jelly stain on it. I grabbed my backpack off the floor—I didn’t even bother checking for my books. I didn’t take them out in the first place. I put one foot over the other as I trundled down the steps, like I was sending myself to the Gulag.

Mom was at the table, alone with a chipped cup of tea. Her back was to the sliding door that lead to the patio. Under her eyes, violet skin was wrinkled into small sags.

“Hey,” Mom’s voice reminded me of steady, calm train you’d hear pass by at night. Almost perfectly rhythmic, smooth but varying in pitch a little. “Your Dad’s gone again.”

I blinked. Dad didn’t take morning shifts often. “Why?”

“I don’t know.” Her voice rose a bit, but still controlled. “He said it was important.”

Mom didn’t hide things from me—in fact, I was kind of an outlet for her. Once in awhile, we’d be on aerins and if the subject took a wrong turn somehow, it was Dad’s fault. Dad’s fault for the family’s debts, Mom’s stress. and any bad report cards. “Oh honey, it wasn’t fault, if I and your Dad’s fighting didn’t keep you up, you might’ve gotten up earlier for school.” She would say.

“When will he back?” I asked.

“I don’t know.” She repeated. She sipped her tea, her finger lacing over the chipped part but she didn’t draw any blood.

I made myself a small stack of toast for breakfast, and then left the house. It was another bright, sunny day outside, but when I stepped out the door winter demanded I put on another layer. Dead, brown, leaves blew across the street like foliage zombies. The bus hadn’t arrived yet.

Ms. Deveron was watering her dead tulips next to her cow-spotted mailbox. Her hair was dreary gray and her clothes were made fashion designers from another century. She’s was our neighbor for as long everyone in the cul-de-sac could remember. She used to be very talkative, but lately she’d been shunning us for no reason at all. I was the exception—children are supposedly innocent or something.

She dropped the hose, and she wobbled in her slippers to me; her head was to the ground, carefully observing each step. She came to my mailbox, and said, “Have you’ve seen my kitty? Sammy? The black, fluffy one?”

“No.” The last I heard of Sammy, he ate our neighbor’s pet rat. “Is he gone?”

She frowned, her wrinkles morphing with her sad expression. “I haven’t seen him for three days.”

“Oh…uh, sorry for your cat.”

“He’s never been gone this long.”

“Yeah, I’ll keep an eye out for him.”

“I hope the Lord is keeping him safe.” She didn’t seem to say that to me—she was trying to reassure herself. “God bless.” She hobbled away, her left hand was shaking for an unknown reason. Blood pressure problems, probably. I wasn’t sure if God existed or not, but I thanked her anyway.

Later, the bus ran by, opened its massive doors, and swallowed me in.

 

 

3

Remember how I said that our school is shrinking? That meant four tables were ghost towns at lunchtime. Everyone else and their circles of friends sat with each other, the more popular kids sat on the crowded tables on the right, and it would slowly seep down to only a few kids as you came towards the left. Ted, Raymond, Balt, Jim, and I sat at a table at the end, almost stranded from our peers.

Jim and Ted played Connect 4. Ted was leaning over his open-face sandwich, the mustard spreading over his Black Sabbath t-shirt. Joey and I found it funny every time he’d press further into his meal, stretching to reach the rack (which Jim pulled back further when he wasn’t looking). Raymond and Balt talked about the future of Dr. Who.

I managed Balt a question. “Balt, where you at my house last night?”

Balt’s train of rambling yielded to a stop as he turned his head towards me, his face scrunched in an awkward grimace. Balt never shaved, and he didn’t get a haircut either. He had caramel skin, and he didn’t care if he wore clothes off a hobo’s back to school. He liked exaggerating his expressions to make everything look more comical. “No…why are you asking me this?”

I noticed that I got the others’ attention as well.

“What happened?” Joey asked.

“I’m not sure…it was kinda…odd. There was this guy who asked me to come with him at eleven o’clock.”

“Door-to-door salesmen.” Joey said.

“A stalker?” Ted suggested. He noticed the mustard stain and wiped it off with his napkin, smearing it into a giant, yellow scar.

“Stalkers pretending to be salesmen.” Balt chirped. “It’s happened before. Or maybe salesmen pretending to be stalkers. That happened too.”

“No, it wasn’t like that.” I said. “He used Morse code.”

“Oh, yeah, Ted told me about that!” Balt added.

Ted caught the raised eyebrow I gave him. “What?” he said. “It wasn’t a secret or anything.”

“Wait, hold on.” Raymond commanded. “What did he look like?”

“I…I couldn’t tell. It was dark.”

“Ted, how many people did you tell about the Morse code thing?”

“…was I supposed to keep track?”

“No, but you should know your friend well enough.” I could tell Raymond was trying to hide a smirk. He loved outsmarting Ted.

“I didn’t tell anyone.” Joey said. “I didn’t see a point in it. You could’ve used walkie-talkies or something; you don’t have to sneak out of your house at night and all.”

“I texted my cousin about it,” added Balt. “he lives in Japan though.”

“Guys, guys.” I broke in. “Can we get back to topic?”

“Right…uh…” Ted trailed off. “Albert, Jonny…I don’t know.”

I groaned. “John? Really? Now anybody could know.”

“Actually, I mentioned it to Jonny, he had no idea what I was saying.” Balt said.

“I’ll contact Albert tonight.” Raymond offered. “I have his email.”

“Thanks.”

“No prob.”

I had a lead. For now, at least.

4

In social studies, I was about to fall asleep when the speakerphones crackled to life. Everyone’s heads turned to the speaker mounted on a shelf on the right corner like it pointed a gun to their faces.

The principal coughed into the mike, blasting his chest cold throughout the whole school.  “We have been noticing some students trespassing onto forbidden areas of the school property.” His voice hinted a faint Russian accent and decades’ worth of cigarettes. “The school staff has been unable to identify the students, but if you report yourself to the principal’s office and confess, there will be no consequences besides notification of parental guardians. If any students know of possible doers of these prohibited actions, please notify me or the vice principal. These areas are not only restricted to the construction staff, but it is also highly hazardous. Thank you for your time, and please return to your work.”

Half the students in the school didn’t understand the principal’s wordy, ‘formal’, dialogue. But I did.

So I did caught after all. Well, not really.

But what happens if someone reports you! You’ll get caught! And geez, you were all alone with that girl…you guys were doing much more than chatting, weren’t you?

“No, shut up.” I hissed under my breath. Kim, to my right, gave me an awkward look. She might as well post my self-whispering on her Facebook.

Admit it; you wanna ride that hottie. Don’t worry—the gas station sells just what you need in the men’s bathrooms.

I raised my hand. “Mr. Buckman, can I take a bathroom break?”

Mr. Buckman smiled. “Sure, just don’t be too long, OK?”

“Thanks.” I rushed out of the classroom, and pulled my hoodie over my head. I ignored the nagging thoughts—Jimmy Cricket was teasing me again. Or whatever. I didn’t understand and didn’t really care…there were things far worse than that to deal with.

I didn’t remember leaving any traces of trespassing—well, there was the woman that might’ve been stalking me, but wouldn’t she head after me?

Julie and I did leave the area, but I could’ve sworn no one was watching us. I remember her gently turning the knob to the door I previously entered, and it skimmed the floor, hissing a little. She ushered me out, and the two of us walked down the hall, just as the bell rang and we sorta blended into the crowd. I remember looking to the left, and the chestnut-hair girl was gone—I felt cold, alone; like silent snow on a cloudy, gloomy day in Maine.

It could’ve been Ted—no, he would’ve told me about. Joey was a klutz, though. One stupid move and unfortunate events follow like crashing dominoes.

I entered the bathroom, and Phil was there.

I lifted up an open hand. “Hey.”

He returned a reluctant wave. “Hey.”

“How’s Julie?” I asked.

He didn’t answer for a few moments. “Rough.”

“Did you know her uncle?”

Phil grimaced briefly. “We weren’t great friends.” Phil and I weren’t the best of friends either. Just acquaintances that didn’t like messing with each other. “Yeah…. Julie and I…it’s over, for now. She’ll be back, though.”

“How?”

“I don’t know.” He shrugged, and placed his hands in his pockets. “I have study hall.” He paced out of the bathroom.

I walked over to the handicap stall, reached for the minuscule doorknob when Ted burst out the door. I pulled back my hand and leaned back. He grinned like a caveman after a mammoth slaughter.

“Did you hear that? She’s open!”

My eyes barrel rolled. “God…seriously Ted?”

“Come on, Zack. She’s the only chance I got.” He said. “And I actually can stand her, unlike Becky.”

Becky was something he rarely spoke of—they really were never together. Well, maybe for a week. In short…sixth grade isn’t really the best time to date…. Becky bossed Ted around a lot, until he lost all control and slapped her across the face. She didn’t tolerate that, and kicked him in the balls (she hit his thigh, but it was close enough to make him squeal). He punched her in the nose and doing some serious damage, sending her to the nurse’s office. Ted was suspended for a week and got a beating from his father—if Ted didn’t have ADHD and there was an alternate school nearby, he would’ve been expelled.

“She laughed at my joke.” He told me.

“What was the joke?”

“I forget, but she laughed.”

“Better get the honeymoon planned.” I went two stalls over and shut the door behind him. He followed me like a personal paparazzi.

“Come on, Zack. She likes-

“You really can’t shut your trap, huh?”

He remained silent for a few minutes, and then I heard the familiar squeaking of his shoes as he walked away from my stall. I heard the bathroom door creak open.

“You like her, don’t you?” Ted’s voice sounded deeper—like Dad after a long day at work.

Yes. “A little…I guess.”

“Well, geez, thanks.” Ted snorted. “You know, you saw your chance and had to take it from me, huh?”

“I said a little. I didn’t want-

“Great. I thought you and her were the only ones who gave two damns about me; but I guess that’s no one now. I can’t wait to get home and have Dad smash another chair across my head!”

“For God’s sake just get over it!” I plugged my ears.

“Bitch.”

He slammed the door. Glad I got that over with. Maybe Ted deserved his Dad; justice from the Man Above for being such a jackass.

I buried my face in my moist, sweaty hands. The ground shook faintly beneath my feet, a mere consequence of what was to come.

5

“She’s gone.”

“Who?”

“Mary Yang.”

I repeated, “Who?”

Dad bit his lip with one tooth—his way of conveying disappointment. “Your math teacher’s wife. He wasn’t at your school today.”

I dropped my pen on my textbook. Mom made a few cheap turkey sandwiches for dinner and told me that I could eat upstairs while I did my homework. Apparently, Dad didn’t eat at the table either, so he gobbled up his meal in his home office. A light hung over my small, cluttered desk like my own personal moon. I wasn’t doing any real studying—just doodling on some notebook paper with colored pencils. I created a pretty impressive drawing of my backyard. I hid it under my biology primer and my plate. Dad pulled a chair from my little TV corner.

“Most of the information I can’t legally share with you. Although it should be on the local news tomorrow.” He added. “I thought you’d be concerned, but-

“No, no, I’m concerned.” I reassured. “It’s just that…I didn’t know her.”

“Me either.”

I picked up my pencil again and nearly drifted off to doodling. “I want you to be cautious on your adventures.” Dad returned. “And make sure you have a friend with you. I don’t want to wrap you in packaging plastic, but be careful, got it?”

“Oh, uh, yeah.” I gave him a quick nod.

“Good.” He patted my shoulder; his heavy, thick hands shook my entire torso. He stood up, kicked some of my dirty laundry aside, and left the room.

Outside, the wind picked up, and rain splattered against the leaves, sparking more wordless conversations among the trees. I studied biology until my brain couldn’t take it anymore, and I played Legend of Zelda: Twilight Princess. Every now and then I would turn my head to the raging storm outside my window, and see a dull, yellow orb hidden behind twigs and trunks. I passed it off as the moon at first, then I realized there was no moon during overcast. That was dumb of me.

I paused my game to look at the glow, but it was already gone.

Ball lightning? A UFO? A ghost?

I stared out the window for three minutes, then returned to playing. My hand-eye coordination was a little blurred as drowsiness dragged itself in, and I was distracted by the occasional paranoid glance I’d cast over my shoulder. I turned off the Wii, and tucked myself in.

When the covers were pulled over my head, hours later, a brief light flashed through the fabrics; I could’ve been dreaming, a very vivid, lucid, dream. Or maybe it was the real thing.