The Exchange

Chapter 1: August

[*]

August 20

Dear Diary
It’s only natural to feel like you’ve lost your mind after staring at the back of a cushioned seat for hours on end. It has been so long that I have managed to lose count of the hours and the woman next to me keeps fidgeting around telling me about how she can’t wait to land, that she hates flying. I’m pretty sure she explained why she’s flying but I’ve been trying to tune the chatterbox out and only sometimes it works. It’s like her voice forces its way in. I had only managed to escape her obsessive babbling for a few short blissful hours by pretending to be asleep with my music blaring in my ears but when the battery died she woke me up saying that she needed to use the restroom then continued on with her babbling. I swear I think I might actually kill her if she doesn’t shut up soon…

“So now I am a plane to London, can you believe it? Me, on a plane because of a man,” she giggled, her voice growing loud and into a shriek of laughter causing me to look up from my diary and cringe. At that second I wanted nothing more than to stick my head out into the aisle and let the food cart pummel me in the head in all hopes of knocking me out cold. “Mark is so great; I wish he was here with me.”
‘You’re not the only one,’ I replied in my mind as I faked a pleasant smile, nodding towards her and closed my diary leaving the entry unfinished. I couldn’t concentrate with her next to me and if she looked over at what I was writing I was sure it’d lead to a fit of tears and shrieks right in my ear, though becoming deaf didn’t seem so bad at the moment.
“Do you know how much longer we have until we land?” I asked, it being the first time I actually struck up a conversation with the woman.
Looking around the woman leaned in close to me. “They just fly in circles in an effort to make up pay more. That’s the honest to God truth,” she whispered. “I’d say we’ve circled a near fifty times around London. They need a sixty mark so maybe another thirty minutes or an hour.”
My eyes widened into shock. ‘So, she’s not only a chatter box but a full out nutcase as well.’
I let out a strangled sigh, not sure how much more I could take of this woman but her words came of comfort. At max there was only an hour left of the flight not counting having to wait after landing but hopefully by that point the flight attendant would have muzzled the psycho.
Excusing myself I hurried to the bathroom, planning to hideout in there for as long as I could before someone else needed it or we landed; I just needed a break from her, even a mere five minutes would do. Leaning against the wall my eyes shut heavily in an effort to rest.
“So Mark is working in London like I told you, but what he does is the coolest job ever! He works for the Prime Minister,” a voice called though the door.
My eyes snapped open in horror as I let out a whimper. ‘Why me,’ I mouthed to myself in the mirror as I turned on the water, only partly drowning out her voice.
Unable to hide any longer I opened the door,lips spreading into a thin smile as I stalked out of the tiny room, the woman following closely to my tail, mouth still running. As she scooted into her seat my eyes rolled heavily as I glanced at the people behind us that were giving me a strange look and quickly I sat down, once again staring at the head rest in front of me. ‘Please let it only be thirty more minutes. Please, oh God please,’ I begged, a claustrophobic feeling creeping up inside of me. After almost nine hours spent sitting in the same spot and listening to the same story over and over again I could feel the insanity growing within me.
Hours seemed to pass by in a creeping manner, though in reality it had only been thirty minutes. My eyes flickered up to the signals when I saw something flash, I almost letting out a squeal of delight when I realized it was the fasten seat belt sign. Above us the pilot announced for all electronics to be shut off and trays to be moved to their upright position.
“So I never caught your name” the woman said, over talking the pilot as he stated just how much longer we had. “I’m Sandra Banks.” Her long thin tan hand extended out gently to me. “And no, I’m not related to Tyra Banks, though many say I look like her twin.”
I groaned on the inside, wishing for the pilot to repeat what he had said. “Riley,” I replied shortly as I took her hand.
“Well it’s very nice to meet you Riley. I got so wrapped up in talking about things that I forgot to let you speak.”
“It’s alright; I’m more of a listener anyways.” I responded truthfully. I felt my stomach churn as the plane took a dive, Sandra letting out a small scream as her nails dug into the hand rest. “So Mark works for the Prime Minster, huh,” I asked, trying to get her mind elsewhere. I didn’t want her to grip my arm and break my wrist.
“Yes. He loves it though I hardly get to talk with him these days. That’s the only reason I agreed to do this,” she said in a gasp, the whites of her knuckles starting to show. “So, why you headed to London?”
“School.”
She looked at me in shock before blinking her wide brown eyes. “College?”
I nodded halfheartedly.
“You have courage there Riley, I’ll give you that.”
If she only knew.
At my subtle nod she continued. “You living on campus or staying with a family member?”
“Neither. I’ve no family here, least not that I know of. But I am staying with a family,” I explained quickly.
The tires squealed as the plane bounced repeatedly causing Sandra to sink low in her seat and start praying as she covered her face. “We’re back on the ground,” I stated, pointing out the window as rain pelted against it.
Sandra let out a cry of relief and she hastily tried to unbuckle. “I just want my feet back on the ground and a margarita in my hand!”
My brow arched as her running off the plane and kissing the ground floated to my mind, it making me laugh silently.
“I’ll never fly again! I don’t think I can take it another trip,” She added dramatically.
Unbuckling I gathered my things quickly and made a dart for it. I pushed my way eagerly though the crowd trying my best to escape her.
“So where is your school at exactly?” Sandra asked from behind me. The woman was like a lost dog, pay any kind of attention to it and it’ll follow you until it finds someone better, and that someone would hopefully be along soon.
“Oxford University,” I lied quickly, not daring to tell her the real location in fear she’d come looking for me.
“Oh that just sounds wonderful. I never went to college, just went through life I suppose.”
I nodded once more as I boarded off the plane and through customs, Sandra talking the whole time of her life back in California that was full of parties, boys and then once again how she met Mark.
“We’ve been together for half a year now and our eight month is coming up. I think I’ll-Mark!”
My head bolted up instantly in search of the so called Mark, hoping that she had truly found him and I’d be left alone. Watching the chatterbox drop her belongings and jump onto a fat balding man and I cringed with disgust.
“It was nice talking to you Riley,” she yelled happily as she waved before devouring the man’s face. “Hopefully we’ll cross paths again soon!”
“God I hope not.” I muttered under my breath as I sent her a small wave.
Seeking the opportunity to finally escape the lost puppy, I looked around for the family I was supposed to leave with. They stated they would be wearing red, as if that would stand out from a crowd. Minutes passed as the crowd slowly dwindled and I spotted two adults in red shirts holding a sign with my name on it in big red letters; Riley Seeland. My eyes took in what I saw.
The man was tall with a beer gut protruding from his body with dark graying hair. His eyes were sunken in, cast down to the ground as he fumbled anxiously with the sign. His skin almost tan looking compared to the woman next to him; though both were in matching dark pants, the red shirts on them had them looking extremely out of place.
The woman was tall and skeletal like with dark hair pulled back into such a tight bun that I was sure when she let it down her face would sag into wrinkles. She stood perfectly still with her back elongated, the women looking more like a statute than a living breathing human and for a small second I actually pondered if Medusa would be turned to stone by this ridged looking woman, surely it was possible. Her eyes were what sent shivers down my spine, they were a withered piercing blue that shifted around constantly like a vultures eyes searching for a carcass to feast on. They were dead looking, but were the one feature that stood out on her, them appearing to be popping out of her sockets, though I assumed that was due to her hair being pulled back so tightly.
Plastering my fake smile back on my face once more I pulled my suitcases along behind me hoping that these two were just there to pick me up then drop me off at the Landon’s. “Are you Mr. and Mrs. Landon,” I asked softly. Though everything about me seemed calm and collected on the outside, on the inside I was screaming. A sudden wave of doubt crashed over me, wishing I hadn’t come here after all, or just left the airport without looking for them. I swallowed hard as the two stared down at me before they nodded curtly.
“Clearly you must be Miss Seeland.” The woman said stiffly, she peering down her nose at me coldly. Her eyes locked with mine for a small second, the deadness that dwelled behind them making me step backwards. “You’re late.”
There was no greeting, no introductions, and all I could think was; what had I gotten myself into?
“Follow us to the car.” Mrs. Landon ordered and sharply she turned and started to walk away, her heals hitting the floor loudly. I looked towards her husband who was staring at me as if I were a foreign species that should be studied, his dark eyes deflecting the light above us. He motioned for me to walk in front on him and with great hesitation I did. I hurried after the cold woman as I kept my suitcases close by, blocking off any chance of the man getting to close and with a glance back, Florida didn’t seem as horrible as I once had pictured it and suddenly I wished to go back.

[*]

August 20-continued
Dear Diary,
I’M FREE OF THE PSYCHO!!!! It was always Mark this and Mark that. Yeah well I happened to see Mark when we got off the plane and that lady, I think her name was Sanura or something like that; well she is nothing but a gold digger. Fat, ugly, old, bald man. HA! All she can see in him are dollar bills.
But this is nothing compared to the family I am now stuck with. Talk about Jesus loving freaks, and I thought Sadora’s babbling of Mark was unbearable. These people are just…I’ll be kind and just call them Jesus Nazis. They were handing out creepy Jesus pamphlets as we left to people who were passing by about going to hell and shit! Now how crazy is that?! Not even that, the entire car ride was nothing but Jesus this, Our Lord that, Our Savior blah, Satan’s children walk the earth who-ha, end of the world nonsense and some dude named Father Bernard. Needless to say I wanted to open the car door and roll out hoping some other car would be kind enough to run me over.
Anyways, I’m in some place called Loughton. It’s seriously on the boarder of London, just as Mom wanted, to keep me away from the ‘city life’ but close enough to go to school. Their home is so…small. We passed a ton of farms and stuff along the way so I guess I should be grateful that I don’t have to live in one of those. And the drive here took forever; almost two and a half hours and I saw nothing of London! It’s like we took the country highways rather than just driving through it. Still their house smells like old people, the stench is enough to make you want to vomit and there are crosses and other Jesus shit scattered all around. I don’t see how someone could stand praying to a guy who’s dead and bloody hanging from a cross. Creeps me out. Worst part is, I’ve a giant cross right at the foot of my bed and Jesus is looking down at me. I swear I’m going to have a nightmare of him then wake up and BAM! There he is, staring down at me with those sad eyes. If I make it out of this experience unscarred I’ll be more than amazed.
They did say that they have a son who’s a year older than me or something like that but I’ve still yet to see him. He has no name either, I asked but all I got were grunts from the Mr. and a glare from the Mrs. I only hope that he’s not as weird as his parents that way I’ll have someone to talk with, but I am not getting my hopes high. Got to go, time for dinner and I have to get ‘dressed’ for that, because what I am in must not be eating clothes I guess. Write soon.
~Riley.

Stuffing my diary under my pillow I quickly changed into the longest more unrevealing dress I could find, my Christmas dress. “And to think I almost didn’t bring you.” I mused softly as I smoothed away any wrinkles. Opening my door my head quickly shot back as a strong smell hit me in the face, it reeking of old gym socks, rotting food left in a locker room mixed with a decaying corpse and instantly my gag reflexes kicked into gear as I ran to the window. Forcing it open I took in a deep breath, my eyes watering as I tried my hardest not to throw up. My name was being called from somewhere below and I took one last breath, savoring the clean air it by holding it as I walked out of my room, shutting the door behind me; I didn’t want to sleep with that stench all around me.
I headed down, the voices of Mrs. and Mr. Landon whispering filling the dining room though the words were unclear. Stepping in front of the table the whispers ceased as the two looked at me.
“You called.” I said quietly, getting the sudden feeling that I was what they were talking of.
“Yes, it’s dinner time. You’ll sit across from the Boy right here.” Mrs. Landon said softly, her clammy hands gripping at my sleeve and pulling me forward. “But before you can sit you have to help me serve. The men get their food first.”
My mouth opened to question her thought process, wondering if she knew there was a women’s movement but quickly decided against it not wanting to starting a fight after only being in the house for two hours or so. I nodded gently and waited for instructions on what to do though I found it slightly odd that she referred to her son as ‘the Boy’, but I kept all remarks to myself. “You want me to take out the dishes or something?” I asked awkwardly when nothing was said.
Her head snapped around to face me, a scowl firmly on her face.
‘Or not’, I thought.
“We place their food on the plates then bring it out. Were you taught nothing of how to treat men back where you are from.” she sneered.
Arching an eyebrow I crossed my arms over my chest. ‘Where I am from, what am I from outer space or something.’ I snapped back in my mind. “I came from America and we were taught that you are capable to serve yourself, man or woman.” I retorted. “But I suppose that is why we can take care of ourselves rather than depending one someone else to do our dirty work.”
“Well then I su’pose that must be why most marriages do not last in America.” Her voice was oddly calm making me uncross my arms and shift uncomfortable. “Now one more outburst from you like that and granted you may not be my own child but I will punish you like my own. With that settled grab the Boys dish, he’ll be home any minute from his church studies.”
I half debated on seeing if she’d hold true to her words about punishing me but making a bad impression for day one was enough for me. Reluctantly I grabbed a dish, faked a smile and nodded. “Do I put a little of everything on his plate or is there something he doesn’t eat?” She nodded in my direction, it not being an answer but I decided to fill the plate with everything, not seeing the point or playing a guessing game. Lifting up a lid the foul smell from before hit me full force in the face causing me to gag loudly as I looked down into the pot. “What is this,” I asked, the repulsion filling my voice.
There looked to be some meat in the pot along with floating carrots but that was all I could make out in the dark murky liquid. With the ladle I stirred up the dish, the intense urge to throw up into the pot rising in my throat, though I was sure even that would look and smell more appetizing than what she was cooking.
“It’s haggis,” Mrs. Landon remarked curtly. “It’s a Scottish meal and one of Frank’s favorites.”
Frank? Who the hell was Frank, the son, her husband, or some other person hiding inside the house?
“Isn’t that sheep’s organs cooked in its stomach,” I asked horrified. As she nodded mindlessly my eyes widened as I looked down at the pot and I poked the haggis with the ladle waiting to see some fur float to the surface. “Umm,” I mumbled, trying to find a way to get out of having to eat dinner. “You know, I ate on the plane. So I am a bit full and rather tired, you know jetlag.” Firm grip on the plate I backed away as she stared me down. “So I think I’m going to skip out on dinner.”
“You will do no such thing. You’ll be living with us so you’ll act a part of this family. I’m not expecting you to eat but you will be at the table.”
It wasn’t exactly what I was looking for but I didn’t push it. I didn’t have to eat the sheep’s organs and I wasn’t about to complain afraid she’d make me. “Thank you,” I mumbled trying to be decent. Quickly I piled food onto the plate, skipping over the haggis; if her son wanted to eat it he could endure that smell himself, I wasn’t going to serve him and be tortured at the same time. “I hope this kid has one hell of an appetite,” I murmured to myself as I quickly crossed out of the kitchen, the plate burning the tips of my fingers.
My eyes landed on the empty seat where their son was supposed to be then on Mr. Landon who was hidden behind the paper. “Should I leave this in the kitchen so it stays warm,” I asked.
Peering over his paper Mr. Landon grunted before hiding back behind it.
“Right,” I mumbled setting the plate down with a heavy thud; it mostly due to the agitation that was creeping up inside on me. How these people thought that a simple grunt or nod was an answer baffled me.
Pulling out my chair I sat down swiftly as Mrs. Landon walked into the room and placed her and her husband’s food on the table; he jumping right into it after praying. The house was full of an awkward silence, it making me tap my foot nervously as I stared down at the dull table cloth. Everything around me seemed to be making me more irritated, from the sound of Mr. Landon’s smacking lips to the scraping of Mrs. Landon’s knife against her plate; it was all so nerve racking. The door blot turned with a loud distinct click, it seeming to echo through the house though I was sure it was just my mind playing a trick on me.
I looked up at the Landon’s, noting to myself how neither made a reaction nor called out a greeting to whom I guessed was their son walking in. I watched the shadow in anticipation waiting for the boy to make his appearance hoping to the stars he’d kill the awkwardness. He let out what appeared to be a strangled cough as he dropped his bag to the floor and I almost naturally painted a picture of him in my mind. Neatly parted hair, button down nice shirt and dark pants while donning a cross along his neck and a bible tucked under his arm, he profoundly showing off his religion while he wore a smug look across his face; the same one his mother wore.
I looked back at the table, seeing no reason to doubt my vision of him; people after all looked and acted just like those who raised them. His feet scuffled into the dining room and when they came to a stop the hairs on the back of my neck stood on end when I felt an intense stare on me. I didn’t dare look away from the table cloth though the checkered pattern was giving me a headache.
“Hullo,” a males voice called out, it shocking me it was more awkward than the silence.
Silverware was set heavily on the plate as Mrs. Landon dabbed her mouth lightly with her napkin. “Stop staring Boy, its rude,” she snapped. “Sit, your food is getting cold.”
His chair pulled out as I felt his eyes still on me. He let out another cough, it notably smaller and slowly my eyes lifted to the once empty seat across from me. He slowly came into my view and when I fully saw what he looked like it took all my effort to not let my jaw drop in shock; my image of him before shattering fully. His hair was black and shaggy, it being untamed and as his hand ran though it he only made it wilder. He held the brightest blue eyes I had ever seen though his deathly pale skin caused them to stand out and make them crisp. He was dressed in a hoodie and wore no crosses, carried no bible and the look he wore was one of nervousness; he appearing to be nothing like his parents, he actually looked to be normal. Lightly I sent him a smile when our eyes locked and sharply he looked down at his food as he played with the end of his sleeves.
I drummed my nails lightly against the table trying to keep away the silence, their son clearly not making it any easier, if anything the Landon’s seemed accustomed to it.
“Riley.” Mrs. Landon said sternly.
I looked towards her then at my hand when she looked towards it and slowly my fingers stopped their tapping. I let out a sigh needing something other than the silence. “Your mom said you were at studies,” I said looking towards the son trying to grab his attention.
He looked up from his food and nodded slowly. “Church studies,” he mumbled before filling his mouth to end the rest of the conversation.
“That sounds fun,” I replied with slight sarcasm, the only person seeming to catch it was the son.
He smirked slightly as he sent me a curious stare. “It’s always fun to learn that everyone in the world is damned for any mistake they make. To be honest, gives me a bit-o comfort that I won’t be alone in the end. Do su’pose Hell would be better than Heaven, more company.”
His accent was clear but heavy at the same time, it taking me a moment to fully understand what he had said and once I had I let out a small laugh. “But you can just go confess and all is forgotten, right?”
“We’ve left a loophole for all the murders, rapists an’ child molesters,” he replied, his voice growing cold and making me think I had offended him.
Mrs. Landon glared at her son and Mr. Landon looked at his son past the paper. “Watch your tongue Boy.” Mrs. Landon growled. “And eat faster we will not be late for mass tonight.”
I turned towards the thin women before laughing. “You’re kidding right?”
Her looked stayed the serious one she always wore, leading me to believe that her face was permanently stuck like that. Ignoring me she looked towards her son. “And you’ll have a talk with Father Bernard for that comment of yours.”
The son started coughing heavily and I looked up at him wide eyed it sounding like he was choking. “Mum, you can’t be serious,” he said between a gasp for air and another cough.
“I won’t hear another word on it, next time maybe you should think before you talk of our savior like that. Just because you will be unable to enter Heaven does not give you the right or the privilege to speak of it in such ways,” she spat.
My mouth dropped though I took no notice to it as I stared in shock at Mrs. Landon. I was unable to wrap my mind around the insult she threw at her son for a harmless comment it seeming too harsh for any parent to even utter towards their child. “You do know what he said was a joke?”
“I don’t care what it was, there will be no vile talk of that sort,” she replied bitterly. “Eat your food Boy,” she added as she rose to her feet and grabbed her plate and her husbands and stalked into the kitchen.
I followed her with my eyes for a second I still being in slight shock not only by what she said but also because I was being forced to go to mass. I adverted my gaze back at the table and shook my head as I again began to wonder what exactly I had gotten myself into. This was not a normal family and definitely not the one my school had described to me. I looked back towards the pale boy trying to once more make some form of conversation once as Mr. Landon left the table.
“So what exactly is your name or will I have to be like your parents and call you Boy? Unless that is your name in which case I’ll have to give you a nickname. Oh, I know, how about Felix?”
He peered up at my through his eyelashes before shaking his head. “Drake,” he mumbled gently as he pushed his food around his plate, he now appearing to be depressed; not that he seemed happy when I first saw him.
“Shame, I was really hoping to call you Felix,” I giggled before extending my hand. “Well Drake nice to meet you. I’m Riley.”
“Nice to meet you too,” he replied, his voice small though he didn’t look back up at me when he shook my hand.
I didn’t have a chance to ask any more questions, Mrs. Landon rushing in and barking at us to get ready as she snatched Drake’s barely touched food. It was clear to me hen that Drake wasn’t very much liked by his parents, least by his mother and that the Mrs. Landon in the kitchen earlier was nothing more than a mere act. Drake was nothing like them and the comment about church studies lead me to believe that he wasn’t as firm a believer as his parents, he possibly not being a believer at all. I left the table and headed to my room quickly before there was another chance for Mrs. Landon to shout at us and got ready for my first time ever attending a mass.

[*]

Heading down from his room Drake let out a gentle sigh as his eyes caught a glance of Riley as she walked round the corner down below, her brown hair bouncing against her back. Shaking his head he walked down as well dreading having to go to church but with Riley around he knew there was the slight chance that the pressure would be off him and on to her. It wasn’t fair to think such things on the girl he had just met but he couldn’t help his thoughts. He had been dealing with it for years, waiting for something to change around him and finally it happened.
Pulling his jacket around him Drake rubbed anxiously at his left wrist, a burning feeling racing up his skin, it begging to be itched. Spotting Riley waving to him happily Drake gave her a curt nod of acknowledgment before walking towards the door. She seemed far too happy, he only assuming it was from her flight and maybe jetlag causing it, but soon enough her cheery spirit would die just like everything else that entered the house.
A gust of cool wind and freezing rain droplets smacked Drake in the face causing him to wince and duck his head down into his chest. With shaking hands Drake pulled his coat closer to his body, burying his face down into it as he darted towards the car and tugged at its handle, “C’mon.” he hissed when it didn’t open. Letting out a shiver he looked back towards the house, his mother standing in the doorframe staring at him. “Jesus Christ you’re such a bleedin’ twat,” He snarled under his breath as he leaned back against the car.
Minuets passed as he stood outside freezing before his was joined by Riley. “How long have you been out here,” She asked bluntly, her green eyes staring at him like large orbs.
“Not sure, wasn’t keeping time,” he spat, tucking his hands under his arms. “Are they coming yet?”
Riley’s weight shifted from foot to foot as she shrugged. “Last I heard she was on the phone with that Father guy and then I was sent upstairs to change again.”
“Not Father Bernard.” He muttered inaudibly as he let out a groan as he hit his head back against the car as Riley went on.
“Apparently what I was wearing earlier wasn’t good enough,” she said with the roll of her eyes. “Your mom is a bit insane, you know that right.”
At the rest of Riley’s comment of his mother he glanced at her Riley staring back at him intensely and he chuckled, “You’ve no idea jus’ how mental she is. Being here is probably worse than being slowly murdered.” He paused for a brief second, “come to think of it, it’s lot like that, being murdered.”
Blinking a few times Riley stepped a few feet away from Drake as she wrapped her arms around her middle as if she were protecting herself. “How old are you?” she asked.
“Twenty. Why?”
Sighing, Riley tapped her foot and he knew she was about to pry into his life. “Well if you’re twenty and hate it here so much why don’t you move away?”
Laughing Drake shook his head, drops of water flinging off in every direction. “Money would be the main problem. I can’t get a job ’cause my mother says schooling needs to come first. An’ they pay for my schooling to keep their claws lodged in me, so I’m rather trapped here ’til I’m able to get some money an’ get out.” It was a short explanation of the truth but she had just arrived she didn’t need to know the full horror of what laid in wait for her while she stayed with them.
Nodding softly Riley looked around before staring intently at the house. “I wish they would hurry up, if I had known it’d take them this long I would have worn something warmer,” She mumbled.
“She’s watching from the window.” Drake replied, nudging his head to the upstairs window that held a black figure.
“Why,” Riley asked, her voice drawling out with curiosity and horror.
Shrugging Drake leaned his head back, the rain pelting him in the face but he was now numb to it. “As you said, she’s insane.” Hearing Riley giggle next to him Drake looked down at her and smirked. “Random thought. Dinner, how come I had no haggis,” he asked trying to keep the conversation going, it keeping his mind away from the cold.
Again she laughed her voice light and in a way contagious. “I got your food.”
“Why?”
“You mom said that the men get served first and…” Her voice trailed off as Drake started laughing. “That was all a load of shit wasn’t it?”
“An act if you will. I Dun’no why though, not as if my mother would keep it up. She’d go even madder having to serve on my father.”
“Nice. Anyways, I really didn’t like the smell or look of it so I just passed it by.”
“It does have a rather pungent smell don’it?”
“A horrible smell to be exact.” Looking up at him through damp hair Riley sent him a weak smile. “Hope you don’t mind.”
“Quite alright, I really dislike it myself. I nearly died when I walked into the house.” He let out a soft chuckle as his lips twisted into a strained smile; like it was something he had never done before and pained him to do.
“So that’s why you coughed!” She said, her green eyes moving to the sky and her laughter grew. “I thought you were sick or something.”
“No, would have been if I ate the stuff. Su’pose I ought to thank you then.”
“Nah, you didn’t get any for selfish reasons,” she replied with another laugh.
“Cheers either way.”
The front door slammed shut causing the two to look towards the door as Mr. and Mrs. Landon walked towards them. The locks to the car clicked open and quickly Drake pulled at the handle and let Riley into the car before climbing in himself, it not holding anymore warmth then outside. As Riley fidgeted in the car Drake watched her, he for the first time in ages wanting to keep talking with someone but pressing his lips together in a firm line he looked out the window as his parents neared the car.
Slowly they started on their way Riley’s eyes wide in awe as she watched everything pass by them, she quietly making awing sounds at everything they passed. From time to time she would glance at Drake, nudge him and point excitedly at something and wait for an explanation to what it was.
Within five minutes they were at the church, the parking lot holding a few cars. “We could have just walked here,” Riley whispered to him as they clambered out of the car and walked towards the church.
A feeling of dread swept over Drake as the faint glimmer of lights of the church flickered off the rain. “You want to walk here in this weather?”
Scoffing Riley’s green eyes rolled, “Please, by the time your parents even came out of the house we would have already been here and probably dry.”
Drake didn’t bother arguing with her knowing she was right, instead his mind was jumping between questions, fears and the possibilities of why his mother was watching them earlier. Stopping outside the church Drake waited for his parents to catch up, his gaze staying locked on the ground as Riley watched him like he was some mystery.
Walking up towards the church Drake’s eyes took in the heavily bricked gothic structured red walls, each one uniquely designed in its own way that made everyone stop and admire all of its beauty. Each brick seemed to be precisely placed because from a faraway glance you could notice the lighter colored bricks created a cross image within the wall. The building towered over the town by itself but with three large tall towers, each one spiked with crosses at the top that on the rare occasions that the sun did shine it cast the crosses shadows down onto the ground, making them look eight times their actual size and power over everything. To Drake it was nothing more than another old building but glancing towards Riley, who had finally taken notice to the church rather than him, stared at in it complete awe and wonder.
“This is our church, St. Anthony’s,” His mother exclaimed with pride, her hands rising as if she were showing off a fine piece of art. “And I just can’t wait for you to meet Father Bernard, I’m sure the Boy has told you all about him while you two were chatting outside.”
Eyes flickering towards the dark haired girl Drake grimaced as he shrugged. Instinctively he braced himself for Riley to say she heard nothing of the priest and for his mother to fall into a fit but when Riley’s voice floated to his ears he looked up in a state of surprise.
“Oh yeah, talking of him non-stop,” Her voice held sarcasm to it, but only a small hint that Drake took notice too.
Beaming at her son Mrs. Landon nodded. “Now that’s the Boy I used to know,” she said as she ushered the two into the church.
A strong smell of incense filled the half empty church as the piano echoed off the stone walls. To a normal eye the church would have appeared beautiful with its gothic arches and stained glass windows. Even the stone walls held a certain beauty to them and the figurines of Jesus and Mary sat perfectly on stands erecting from the wall, each one turned to a certain angle so it was like they were watching over the church; not only protecting it but the people inside as well. But for Drake something seemed ugly about it all and the peace that people found while in the church made Drake squirm as screams of pain reverberated against its beautiful walls in a dying plea.
“Frank, Beth,” a tall thin man exclaimed softly as he walked towards the family. “An’ Drake, if I had known you were coming back I’d have jus’ kept you.”
Quickly Drake moved his way backwards away from the priests as the man walked closer to him. His eyes grew dead as he just stood numbly, it impossible for him to move anywhere else and when the priests gaze sat locked on him Drake felt a surge of panic rise in him. “Have you met Riley,” he said randomly, lightly pushing Riley forward and in front of him like she was a shield.
“This mus’ be the girl you were telling me of on the phone Beth.” The priest said his brown eyes locked on Drake for a moment longer before he extended hand towards Riley and smiled lightly. “Hullo, I’m Father Bernard.”
Drake watched intently as Riley shook the man’s hand and introduced herself, he keeping a grasp on her hand longer than Riley clearly wanted, her arm jerking back to release it before wiping her hands on her jacket. “I’ve heard so much about you. Drake has been talking non-stop about you.”
“Really,” Father Bernard mused, brown eyes sparkling as they landed on Drake once more with an intent gaze. “An’ hope you don’ mind me asking, but what all has he been saying?” His voice was darkened as his face was etched with curiosity; eyes still locked on Drake.
Riley’s head tilted to the side as she stared up at Father Bernard studying his behavior; it clearly making her uncomfortable. “Just the usual, you’re a great priest and stuff. And he wasn’t lying when he said how beautiful your church was. Truly it is beautiful.”
Father Bernard let out a soft chuckle. “Well you should stop by some time Miss. Seeland, I’d love to give you the grand tour.”
Riley’s green eyes blinked a few times as she stumbled over a response, it giving it away that it wasn’t something that she wanted.
“She’s studies,” Drake blurted out in a rush, his words catching Riley off guard. “An’ will be busy on weekends with school things.” His ending words were sharp; as if he were trying to get the point across to Father Bernard, though they shook a little.
Father Bernard frowned a little in Drake’s direction. “I am sure she can find the time to-”
“No,” Drake growled.
At Drake’s sudden mood change Mr. Landon stood with his mouth gapping open while Mrs. Landon’s face was slowly becoming red, the color starting at her neck and working its way up her face like a thermometer did.
Riley’s eyes shifted as she bounced on the balls of her feet. “Drake I can always…” her words slowly came to a stop when Father Bernard smirk wickedly at Drake, there being a secret meaning behind it that only Drake knew, he taking another step backwards, his hands still on Riley’s shoulders firmly latched as he moved her back as well. “On second thought I think I’ll pass on getting a tour of the church, I’m sure the Landon’s here will do a fine enough job. And Drake’s right I’ll have a lot of homework and classes. Not sure when I’ll even have a chance to even breath.”
“Nonsense,” exclaimed Father Bernard. “My Daughter, you need a private tour of Gods home.”
Her eyebrow arched as she firmly planted her feet and standing her ground. Riley firmly locked eyes with Father Bernard as her shoulders pressed together as if bracing herself. “Yeah, I am an atheist.” Her statement was firm as she held her chin up proudly.
She could hear Drake choke back a laugh behind her as Father Bernard stepped back in horror. “My child, you mus’ be saved!” His voice was loud and determined, it causing Riley to step backwards and into Drake.
“What if I don’t want to be,” she asked bluntly, trying to put a safe distance between her and Father Bernard.
“Then you’ll be dammed to spend the rest of your life in Hell with all the other wretched souls who refused to see God’s ways,” he replied darkly.
Quickly Riley opened her mouth to respond to his words but before she even had the chance to utter them Father Bernard was stalking off in a huff. “Well that’s rude,” She grumbled. “I didn’t even get a chance to defend myself.” She felt a nudge behind and looked back at Drake.
“Walk,” he whispered as he pushed her lightly again. His eyes flickered towards his parents, each of them wearing the same look of horror that Father Bernard did. ‘This should be a fun year,’ he mused happily to himself, he creating a movie of all the crazy things that were sure going to happen in his home. Pointing to a pew Drake let Riley walk in first before sitting next to her. “So you’re an atheist,” he laughed, clearly amused by the news. “You sure gave my mum an eppy with that one.”
“A what,” Riley asked roughly.
Drake blinked at her for a second. “An eppy, you know a fit.”
Her head nodded slowly. “Well what did they think that everyone in the world has the same beliefs as them?” It was Drake’s turn to nod and Riley scoffed. “That’s ridiculous,” she snarled. “Well maybe next time they should pick a good Jehovah Witness girl.”
“Catholic,” Drake corrected.
“Huh?”
“We’re Catholic, not Jehovah Witness’. An’ ‘sides, good Catholic girls don’ exist anymore. Trust me, ‘cause if they did I’d have been married off to one.”
“There’s a difference?” Riley rolled her eyes in aggravation as Drake nodded, “you all believe in the same shit don’t you.”
Wincing when she swore Drake shrugged. “Technically yes, but if you’re looking for lecture on it jus’ attend one of my bible studies, that will answer all your questions.” His voice was laced with heavy sarcasm as he leaned back in the pew, his arms lifted above and under his head. He turned his head towards Riley, eyes burning with curiosity. “What was your defense anyways?”
“Why should I tell you,” she asked bitterly, “So you can walk off in a huff too?”
“I’m merely curious.”
With a sigh Riley leaned back in the pew as well. “How can I be dammed to a place that I don’t believe exists?” Her green eyes shifted towards his as he blinked, mauling over her words. “I mean everything is a matter of belief so if I don’t believe in it then there for I cannot go there because it’s not real to me. And even if it does exist why am I going because I don’t believe? If your God wanted us all to believe in him then we wouldn’t have the choice or free will to decide against him. I’ve done nothing evil, nothing wrong to be sent somewhere for eternal hell. But as I said, I don’t believe anyways.”
At this Drake nodded his head slowly, her words making absolute sense to him and at the same time destroying everything he was brought up to believe. “I see your logic,” he replied quietly after looking around to make sure his parents were nowhere in sight. With Riley coming out as an atheist this meant that she’d be his mother’s soul focus on church related things, he finally getting some peace from it all; he couldn’t help but grin at the thought.
“Well clearly logic is over looked in your religion,” she snapped coldly.
Sighing Drake looked away from her and towards the altar. “We’re taught to believe what we are told in blind faith. If you ask questions then you are considered un-pure an’ evil. They don’ like people thinking on things ‘cause then thoughts, like yours, fill our minds an’ cloud over our faith.”
“It sounds more like a cult then a religion.”
Drake couldn’t help but grin at her comment, she nailing it on the head. “Well that’s one way to see it. But cults are evil an’ we are not.”
Her green eyes shifted in his direction glowing with annoyance. “Seeing how I was just told I was going to Hell for not holding the same beliefs as your family and this church I’m going to stick with evil cult.” Maybe her perception on Drake had been wrong, maybe he was just as faithful and religion obsessed as his parents. Biting on her lower lip Father Bernard crossed the alter with Mrs. Landon both looking stern. “So what happened earlier before between you and Father what’s his name? You know, when he wanted to give me that private tour?”
Drake side glanced at the girl next to him and shrugged. “Jus’ figured it wasn’t your cuppa tea.” He twisted the ends of his sleeves as he Riley scoffed and asked one more time. “He’ll add you to our ‘cult’ if you go. I find it to be like brainwashing.”
“You seemed to get protective, why,” she added, voice drawling out. “I mean everyone seemed shocked by what you did.”
He twisted more nervously at his sleeve, the fabric wrinkling heavily. “’Cause you’d be forced into something you don’ want to do, sorry if I’m not a believer in that.” His words were spoken softly but harshly and as Riley began to protest Drake locked eyes dangerously with her. “Jus’ be grateful an’ drop it, my parents are coming over.” Looking back forward he and Riley both fell silent as his mother sat next to him.
Mass gradually went by, each minute seeming like an hour to Drake but all the while he gritted his teeth and forced a smile. Every so often Drake’s eyes would flicker towards Father Bernard when he felt the man’s gaze on him. Drake told himself he was wrong, that it was just paranoia and all in his mind but every time he looked there were Father Bernard’s eyes sitting locked on him. Drake knew he had drawn the attention of Father Bernard to himself in his effort to keep Riley away from the church and now all he could think of, was it worth it?
Finally mass was ended, Drake getting roughly to his feet once more to say their final prayer, and when they were all dismissed Drake anxiously waited for Riley or his parents to move out of the pew so he could hurry and leave.
“Wasn’t that just the most beautiful sermon you had ever heard Frank.” Wooed Mrs. Landon as she fanned herself; looking as if she had been touched by God himself. Drake’s eyes rolled lightly as he grew impatient and began to bounce around nervously. “What is your rush Boy,” Mrs. Landon snapped when she finally took notice of Drake’s obsessive bouncing. “You’re acting like a giddy school girl.” Then she smiled. “No doubt you’re in a hurry to speak with Father Bernard. You’ve so many sins to confess and you have to apologise for your absurd behavior earlier.”
Drake shook his head, “I’ve to get some things in order for the school, I jus’ remembered.” His lie was stumbled over as the words came to him slowly.
Mrs. Landon’s withered blue eyes narrowed into slits, it looking like an eerie blue light was emitting from small black holes. “Well you can do it after your meeting with Father Bernard I had to pull some strings for you to get this time with him.”
“I’m sure it took a lot of string pulling,” Drake snarled inaudible. “It’s jus’ I need to finish this before tomorrow an’ I was planning on doing it after bible studies but we had to come here. ’Sides, Riley seems to be knackered an’ she has to get everything in order tomorrow for her studies.”
Drake watched intently as his mother pursed her lips, her eyes glancing to a half awake Riley still sitting in the pew. He had convinced her he was sure of it, but it was the waiting to hear that he won that was killing him. After a long moment of debating Mrs. Landon simply nodded. “Get her to the car boy. I’ll reschedule your meeting with Father Bernard.”
“No need, I can do it myself,” Drake urged as he lightly shook Riley out of her dazed state and turned his back to his mother. “Time to leave,” he whispered as her green eyes fluttered open.
There was a loud crack as Riley lifted her arms up in a stretch as she yawned. “Mass is over already,” she asked as she lightly rubbed away the sleep from her eyes. Drake nodded as he grabbed his mother’s keys and motioned for Riley to follow. “You know I can really get used to this church thing. It’s a good nap; if only their seats were more comfortable then I’d really believe there is a heaven.” She let out a tired, insane sounding giggle as she rose to her feet and used Drake as support as they walked out of the church.
Unlocking the car door Drake nodded as he let Riley get in first, she stumbling into the seat and leaned heavily against the window. “Bloody thing isn’t even that old” he grumbled as the car turned over before finally starting. Flicking on the headlights his parents and Father Bernard came into view, Drake’s eyes narrowing slightly as he fell back into his seat heavily.
Peering over at Riley Drake chuckled as she curled up in the seat and fell asleep against the window. He watched her for a few moments, his mother’s light laugh pulling his gaze away and towards his window jumping instantly at what peered at him through the fogged window. Father Bernard’s brown eyes stared into the car, the largest grin sitting spread over his face as he gave Drake a light wave. Grimacing Drake gave him a wave back before focusing his gaze on his shoes.
More laughter sounded outside the car and just when Drake was sure he was about to go into a panic attack the doors to the car opened and his parents climbed in. “Father Bernard says whenever is good for you, he said he’ll make room to see you,” Mrs. Landon stated. “That man just adores you Boy, you should feel blessed to have such a good, faithful man who wants to help you.”
His nose wrinkled back in distaste, “Yes, lucky me.”
In a short drive they were back home and once again Drake lightly shook Riley awake. “I don’ think you want to sleep in the car do you?” Drake asked when Riley whined for five more minutes. Climbing out of the car Drake turned back to face Riley, helping her out of the car. He hurried to the house, pulling the dark haired girl along behind him and with a sigh of relief he closed the door.
“To bed, both of you,” Mrs. Landon demanded as she shrugged off her jacket and Riley headed up the stairs in her groggy state.
“G’night.” Drake called out as he hurried up the stairs and towards his room, his safe haven. Collapsing in his bed Drake laid on his back staring up at the ceiling mindlessly, no thoughts staying long in his mind. He wasn’t tired and knew he wouldn’t be until the early hours of the morning. Digging through his nightstand Drake pulled out his notebook and pen, his night passing him by like all the rest.