Samuel And His Mother’s Necklace

Chapter one

Samuel Wiklund rolled his eyes. “What, Dad?”
“How was school, Sam?” The father stepped into the room, holding a tray of cupcakes. “You ran upstairs before I had a chance to say a word.”
The teenager crossed his arms. “Dad, don’t spoil me. I’m seventeen; I don’t need to be treated like a baby.”
The father sat on the bed with the tray balancing on his palm. “I know that you’ve been bullied, and I wanted to make it better.”
“With vanilla cupcakes?”
“At least the bullies won’t get a bite.” He ate the cupcake, the frosting getting on his lips.
Samuel’s back was against the pillow, slumped.
The boy grabbed a cupcake.
“I can handle the bullies on my own,” Samuel said, taking a bite.
“Are you sure? The last time you were crying and—”
“Tyler, I’ll be fine. People say to ignore the bullies, anyway. After I graduate, I won’t have to see them again.”
“If anything comes up, let me know… Did you call me Tyler?”
The father rustled the son’s blond hair.
The boy smirked. “You said that you were going to show me something.”
“Oh, yes; that.” The father, Tyler Wiklund, winked. He placed the tray of cupcakes on the bedpost—the father and the son’s treats back in the slots. “I was going to show it to you last year, but you know how forgetful I am.”
Samuel watched the six-foot male take the necklace out of the jacket’s pocket.
The boy raised an eyebrow as Tyler placed it on the mattress.
Samuel played with the necklace as his eyes darted between the item and the father.
The boy felt the metal of the silver chain—cold, but not so his hand would freeze.
“It’s your mother’s necklace. You have your mother’s chocolate eyes, you know. All of what your dad has is blond hair with blue eyes: no similarity, except the hair color.”
The teenager smirked. “You always say that.”
Samuel couldn’t keep his eyes off of it as he touched the small ruby that was engraved in the circle stone.
The boy felt the roughness with his thumb: the red looked real…
“Did Mom want me to…?”
Samuel could sense the father’s sadness, and the teenager kept his mouth closed.
Tyler nodded. “The necklace is a valuable thing in our family. Before Mina died, she told me to give it to you once you were sixteen.”
The son kept staring at the small green dot of emerald in the middle.
Although he didn’t care for jewelry like the girls at Sunset High School, he did care about the necklace that was now in between his fingers.
The city of Pinewood was boring compared to Los Angeles that sided it, which were some minutes away.
There was nothing in the city to do, and Samuel was getting tired of it.
“The necklace is rare.”
“Why?”
“It’s named Greta’s Blood, and it’s the only necklace that nobody can find. It’s named after Mina’s mother. The police and many people were looking for it, but your mother hid it. They stopped searching after two years.”
“The necklace is stolen?”
“It’s an ancient artifact from Sweden, but I don’t know how Mina got a hold of it. I don’t know how old it really is, but I’m assuming that it’s not far. Mina said that in her childhood, her mother hid Greta’s Blood and made Mina go find it. It was a game—when the child found it, the child could keep it and pass it on to the next child in the family.”
The boy rubbed the chain, glancing at the father’s weak smile. “Me?”
“Yeah, but you don’t like adventurous things. I might as well give it to you.”
As the breeze from the window blew on his face, Samuel Wiklund yawned.
He looked at the clock on the desk, the digital green color reading that it was almost eleven.
Tyler Wiklund said goodnight to the son, and Samuel closed the door for him.
Samuel heard a noise from his phone.
He swore that he saw a figure staring at him, Samuel’s fingers gripping the window curtain.
The boy relaxed his back on the bed.

Chapter two

Samuel kept his gaze on the screen.
His father always nagged Samuel about being on the phone too much, but Samuel didn’t care.
Sunset High School was always a drag for him—the classes, the teachers, the work…
The father and the son had moved to Pinewood, California five months ago, and they were almost settled in.
Gothenburg was better than Pinewood, and the teenager wanted more from the city that they had moved to.
Samuel thought that Sweden was more exciting, but at least he can now connect with his online friend.
The teenager checked what class he had first—he forgot that it was Geometry.
The friend that he’d made as an online friend was enrolled in the same California school.
The boy had to lie that he’d made a new friend; Tyler Wiklund didn’t like his son talking to people online.
Samuel Wiklund and Ella Holm didn’t have any classes together.
Sitting in the middle row next to another student, Samuel heard the bell and the dreaded voice of the Geometry teacher.
The woman clapped her hands for everyone’s attention.
Samuel rolled his eyes as the teacher started talking about equations.
Miss Berry was Samuel Wiklund’s least favorite teacher, and he couldn’t wait to leave the classroom.
Samuel kept thinking about the figure.
The figure looked like a male, wearing black clothing with—
“Jonah Late?”
Samuel stared at the equation that was on the board.
Samuel looked at the skinny quiet kid with brown hair that sat across from him.
Wiklund saw the kid’s face twist.
He had heard Jonah Late’s story through the whispers in the halls and in the media, but he wasn’t interested in doing further research about one kid that had a vivid dream.
He looked at the teacher.
“Fifty-seven,” Samuel answered.
“That’s correct, Samuel.”
Samuel grasped the ruby, feeling the roughness.
The teacher made a comment to the brown-haired kid, Samuel hearing laughs around him.
Shifting in his seat, he looked at the clock and watched the hands move slowly: 9:15 AM.
The boy tapped the pencil.

* * *
The teenager sat at the desk.
He cracked his knuckles.
He rolled his eyes.
He hated school.
He wanted Gothenburg back.
Slamming the Geometry folder on the wood, his eyes narrowed at the message.
I didn’t see you at school today. Is everything okay?
I wasn’t in the mood to talk to anybody. Sorry, Ella.
Is it math?
It's everything. I hate it here. Pinewood is so boring.
I told you.
He set the necklace next to the folder, hearing his name being called.
He slid his hand down the railing, seeing his father’s crossed arms.
“What do you want for dinner?” Tyler asked.
Samuel poured himself a glass of tap water. “We could have pasta.”
“Do not tell me that you’re hungry for pasta.”
“I’m not.” The boy put his hand on the counter. “I’m not hungry at all.”
The father tapped his finger on the marble. “We could eat out.”
“I’m not hungry.”
“It’s seven-pm, Samuel—you have to eat something. Where’s the necklace?”
“The necklace is in my room, Dad.”
“Don’t lose it.”
The teenager took three steps, his hand gripping the railing. “I promise that nobody is going to steal it. We could have ice cream for dinner or something, but I don’t care what we eat.”
Samuel closed the bedroom door.
Chapter three

He threw the blanket to the end of the bed.
Samuel Wiklund opened the chat with Ella Holm.
Walking to the desk, Samuel heard a thump.
The boy held the wet necklace.
Samuel smelled the pancakes as he walked downstairs.
“Why are you not dressed?”
Pulling the plate of cut-up pancakes to him, Samuel glared at his father.
“I’ll get dressed later,” the teenager said.
“Why are you giving me an attitude lately?”
“Maybe I want to go back to Gothenburg!” Samuel yelled.
The piece of pancake fell from the boy’s mouth, his legs shaking, and the chair was an inch away from him.
The father raised an eyebrow. “Why?”
The teenager sat, his fingers tightened around the fork. “Pinewood is boring.”
The father raised an eyebrow. “From your mouth, so was Varberg.”
Samuel Wiklund stared at the counter.

* * *
The teenager’s hand was on the doorframe.
He felt a tapping on his shoulder.
He glanced at Ella Holm.
“There’s two minutes left; I can’t talk,” Samuel said.
Ella smiled, the brown hair swaying off of her shoulders and onto her back.
“I’m in this class,” she said.
Wiklund sat in the middle row. “You are?”
“Behind you.”
The bell rang and the science teacher walked into the classroom.
The teacher slammed the textbook on the desk.
“Welcome back, students. Are we ready to dive into the book of biology?”
Samuel put his head on the desk, his eyes widening.
He grasped his chest.
He rubbed his neck.
“Shit.”
Everyone looked at him.
“Is everything okay, Samuel?” the teacher said.
Samuel nodded.
Ella tapped his shoulder. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing’s wrong,” he whispered.
“You’re searching for something. Do you need a pencil?”
“It’s nothing. I’ve lost my jacket.”
“You weren’t wearing a jacket when we walked in.”
“It’s nothing, Ella.”
Samuel looked at the teacher who was standing next to him.
“Can I start the lesson or do you still need time to search for your sanity?” the teacher said.
The teenager heard snickers.
His fingers tapped the desk.
His toes wiggled.
His mind raced of thoughts about the missing necklace.
He stared at a figure through the doorway.
He felt a tap, and he looked at Ella who was standing next to him.
“Come on, Sam. Class is over.”
The boy looked at the clock.
“You’ve slept through the class. We’re going to be late.”
“‘We’? We only have one class. Why—”
“I bribed.”
Samuel zipped his backpack.
He wondered where the time had gone, and who the figure was.
He followed Ella.

Chapter four

The boy threw his backpack on the tile.
He ran up the stairs, Samuel hearing his father yell his name.
Samuel Wiklund’s eyes widened as he saw the same arrangement that he had left, but without the item on the paper.
He lifted the math homework.
“Dad?” Samuel yelled.
He heard footsteps, and he saw Tyler looking at him with a confused expression.
“What, Sam? You—”
“Did you do something with Mom’s necklace?”
“You lost it?”
“I don’t know. I forgot to put it on when I went to school, and—”
“Why—”
“I don’t know, Dad. It’s not here.”
Samuel’s stomach was twisting as he rustled through the folders, checked under the bed, and checked the closet; he could sense the rage inside of his father.
“Samuel, that’s your dead mother’s necklace that we’re talking about. Do not tell me that you don’t know where it is.”
“I’m sorry, but—”
“Are you sure that you didn’t leave it in your backpack?”
“I didn’t take it to school.”
“I saw you sneak it three times before.”
“I was…”
Tyler Wiklund rubbed his forehead. “I shouldn’t have given you it. You had promised that no one was going to steal it and we had promised that you weren’t going to take it to school… Close the window.”
Samuel felt raindrops forming.

* * *
The teenager glanced at the father, still feeling guilty.
He stared at the seven pieces of lettuce that he still had to eat.
“What are we going to do about the necklace, Sam?”
Samuel shrugged. “We could go to the police.”
He heard the father scoff. “We can’t.”
“Why not?”
“They’d put me in jail, Sam. It’s a rare item, and you lost it. People are searching for it all over the world.”
The boy raised an eyebrow, the fork making a sound. “At least no one took it when I was wearing it.”
“We would have questioned every kid at Sunset. Now we don’t know who stole it.”
Samuel washed his bowl, putting it in the dishwasher.
“I’m going upstairs,” he said.
“You better find that necklace,” the boy heard.

Bonus:

Chapter six

Samuel Wiklund spooned the cereal into his mouth, glancing every other second at his father.
“Did you find the necklace, Sam?”
The teenager’s toes clenched, the fuzziness rubbing.
“Hittar du halsbandet, Sam?”
The boy shoveled the last bit of the cereal into his mouth, staring at the bowl. “Nej. I didn’t find it.”
“Why not?”
Samuel’s fingers wiggled.
He didn’t want to move, afraid that his father might strike.
“You were going to show it to your friend at the park, promising that she’ll keep it a secret. What’s going to happen then?”
“I can buy—”
Tyler laughed. “Your dead mother’s rare necklace is missing, and you’re saying that you can buy another at any store.”
The father glared at his son, leaning forward against the counter. “The necklace is family history, Samuel. No one can know about the necklace.”
Samuel stared at the empty bowl…
Tyler straightened. “You can walk to school today.”
Samuel nodded, putting the bowl in the sink.