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Rated: 13+ · Novel · Supernatural · #858958
The beginnings of a novel I started a while back.
PROLOGUE

Cray turned as the world slowly spiraled back into focus. Light refracted in the open air in front of him and gave him a small sense of the real. “It’s all in your mind,” he heard a voice come through the haze. It sounded familiar. That tone. That slight crack in the voice of a boy who hadn’t fully grown into a man yet. And although he couldn't remember saying those words, he knew they were his.

The past few hours had become a blur to Cray. He remembered taking the drug and walking with Johnny and Kris toward the park that sat down the street from his apartment. Thaxton Park was small, with a woods attached to it on one side, and Maple Street on the other.

As a kid, Cray and his folks would go there on summer days for a picnic, or to play in the playground. In those days, the park was well kept. Township people would come by once a week to mow the grass, rake the leaves, plant the plants and clean up the litter. And in those days, it seemed like the park was the nicest place on Earth.

Now, as Cray looked around it appeared deranged. The grass was long and weedy with garbage strewn through it. The monkey-bars looked rusted and the carousel had come off its axis. Of course these things didn't mean much to him at this point. He was more concerned with what had happened to Johnny and Kris, to the sun, and to himself.


CHAPTER ONE – THE WAVE

I

Johnny Sental was Cray Balton’s best friend since either of them could remember. They had met on the first day of second grade, and had been inseparable ever since.

Johnny was the only child of Dick Sental and Marie Polazia. Complications arose during his birth, and the young couple decided that one child would probably be enough. Dick had grown up an only child, and he had turned out just fine. He was a good businessman who ran his own architectural firm out of their house (which he undoubtedly had designed himself years earlier), and he was probably the wealthiest man in Thaxtonburg. And as is usually the case with children of the wealthy, and/or with only children, Johnny had been spoiled rotten.

By the time he was 7, Johnny had already alienated himself from most of the neighborhood kids. With his bikes and video game systems and fits when he didn’t get what he wanted, most of the neighborhood kids saw him as a spoiled brat. That was, at least, until the day he met Cray Balton.

Cray’s “family” had moved to Thaxtonburg from Montana over the previous summer. The family, of course, wasn’t your typical American family, with two working parents and 2.3 children. Cray’s family was made up of just three people: Harry Balton, Cray’s paternal grandfather, Uncle Mike Balton and Cray himself. Cray’s parents had passed away two years earlier when a fire had destroyed their apartment building in Helene. Cray’s life was spared thanks to a heroic rescue by the Chief of the local fire department. Robert and Jane Balton, his parents, unfortunately weren’t as lucky, and had been trapped in their bedroom when the ceiling of the apartment caved in.

And so Cray went to live with his father’s only brother and father on the other side of town. In the next couple of years, before their move to Thaxtonburg, his grandfather had retired from his job as an accountant for the state, and Uncle Mike got laid off from his job in the clothing store which he managed. And thus, when Mike Balton received a job offer four months later from a small store in the even smaller town of Thaxtonburg, the Baltons picked up from Helene and headed for the east coast.

II

Their first day of second grade was a warm September one. The sun shone through the patchy cloud cover in golden streams of light, and the air was calm and quiet except for the chirps and tweets of the blue jays and cardinals and red-breasted robins that flew from tree to tree. Cray’s uncle drove him to school on that first day, which would eventually become the norm for his elementary school years.

“You ready there kid?” Uncle Mike had asked him on that September day. “First day of school always got to me when I was growin’ up. I guess I was always worried about meeting new people…”

“I guess so,” Cray replied. “Can’t I just stay home though? What if I can’t make any friends?”

“Sorry kid,” Mike said hoarsely. He had gone out with a couple of his co-workers the night before, and apparently had smoked too many cigarettes. He also apparently had neglected to brush his teeth or change his shirt, and a stench of beer and sweat floated back toward Cray thanks to the wind coming in through the windows.

The rest of the ride was silent, except for the birds and the rumble of the old Ford’s engine as they rode along the country road. After about ten minutes or so, they finally arrived at Thaxtonburg Elementary School, and Cray hopped out. “Smile there kiddo,” Mike called out. “Meet some of the kids, and I’ll pick ya up around 3. Ok?”

“Yeah,” Cray moped as he made his way to the school’s main entrance. He was surrounded by 200 other youngsters making their way to the first day of school. Some were laughing with friends while others had parents literally dragging them kicking and screaming to the front door. “How bad could it be?” Cray said to himself as he climbed the three granite steps to the front door.

Once inside, Cray was given a name tag by a large woman who couldn’t have been much older than Uncle Mike. Of course she probably had 100 pounds on him, and looked as if she hadn’t slept in days, but Cray had a sense that she was a good person, and maybe single Uncle Mike might like to meet her. “Mrs. Swartz”, as her bright blue name tag said, handed him a map of the school and he headed toward his new home room.

Cray slowly made his way through the winding hallways to Room 119, where Mr. Finley’s classroom was, and opened the door.

III

When Johnny saw the new kid walk in, right away he got excited. Last year, in Mrs. Swartz’s class, Johnny didn’t have many friends. Most of the kids in town knew who he was, but more importantly knew who his father was. While their parents worked long hours so that they could pay their mortgages and put food on the table, Johnny’s seemed to work little, and showered him in toys which he usually wouldn’t share. Now, Johnny saw his chance to start anew, and to make a friend before any of the others could say anything bad about him.

“Cray” his name tag said. “What a weird name,” he thought.

“Now everyone,” spoke Mr. Finley, “this is Cray Balton. He’s a new student here, and he needs a place to sit. More importantly though, he doesn’t know anyone yet, so I would like to assign him a buddy. Do I have any volunteers?”

Johnny raised his hand immediately and called out, “I’ll do it Mr. Finley!” And as he did, the entire class appeared a little bit shocked. Here was Johnny “Mental” Sental offering help? Most of the kids would have expected Johnny to treat the new kid poorly, as he had done to them. Maybe he had changed over summer vacation. Most of them didn’t really think so though.

“Go on Cray,” Mr. Finley told him, and Cray did. He went over to the boy who had volunteered and offered his hand.

“Hi, I’m Cray Balton,” he said.

“Hi, I’m Johnny Sental. Nice to meet ‘ya.” As class began Johnny smiled. Maybe this year would be different.

Later that day, after lunch, the second grade had recess. The second graders exploded out the door onto the playground, and as they did they all slowed. It looked like the fourth graders were still out there, and at the age of nine, most of them towered over the six and seven year olds.

“You wanna swing?” Johnny asked Cray. “That’s what we usually did last year at recess.”

“Sure,” he replied, and they started walking. Throughout the day they had talked a lot. Johnny told Cray about his family, and the town and which kids to look out for, and Cray told Johnny about Montana and the fire and his grandpa and Uncle Mike. One of the kids that Johnny told Cray about was Robbie Snyder.

Robbie was a fourth grader. He was actually ten years old, much older than most of the fourth graders, because he had been held back the prior year. Last year Robbie had gotten in fights with 6 students throughout the school year (including Johnny), and had even sent one of them to the hospital. It was because of that incident, during which he had broken the leg of a third grader, along with his poor grades that caused the teachers to hold him back.

So now, Robbie Snyder would have a whole new year to pick on some of the younger students. With the fourth and second grade recesses overlapping, Johnny knew that he would be an obvious target. Bullies, as both Johnny and Cray knew, tended to pick on the same kids over and over, especially when one of them always had extra lunch money.

“Just my luck,” spoke Johnny as he eyed the swing-set which he and Cray were now approaching. Robbie was sitting on one of the three swings with his sidekick Danny on his right, and they were passing something between them. “I’m not going over there,” he continued.

“Forget ‘em,” Cray replied. “It’s my first day here, and I’m not going to start it being bullied around. You wanted to swing, right?”

“Yeah, but…” stuttered Johnny. His heart was racing.

“C’mon Johnny,” he said as he grabbed Johnny by the arm and started leading him toward the swings.

IV

Robbie Snyder and Danny Hatcher looked up and saw a couple of kids walking their way.

“Quick, put it out,” growled Robbie. The joint was only half-smoked and Robbie wasn’t happy about it.

“Do you think that they’ll bust us Robbie?” Danny asked.

“Nah,” Robbie replied, “they probably wouldn’t even know what it is. What are they doing coming over here anyway? Maybe we should teach ‘em a lesson.”

And with that Robbie and Danny jumped up and started walking toward Johnny and Cray. “What do you want?” Robbie yelled as he continued moving toward the two younger kids.

“We just wanted to ride on the swings,” the taller one yelled back. He was a blond kid, about the same size as Danny, but still two or three inches shorter than Robbie. He kept walking toward them, but the shorter one (who Robbie vaguely recognized) stopped dead in his tracks.

“No way!” Robbie shouted back. “These are the 4th grade’s now. Go find somewhere else to play!” The blond kid just kept walking toward them though. “Ok, you asked for it!”

V

Cray saw the first one coming a mile away. Robbie and his buddy had started advancing on him, and Johnny had stopped in his tracks twenty feet behind him. As they closed in on him, Danny started moving sideways, probably trying to get to his backside Cray thought. Robbie on the other hand was coming right for him.

Robbie threw the first punch, a right toward Cray’s head. Nimbly sliding to his right Cray avoided the first punch, but then lost his breath. Robbie’s left hand drove into his stomach, and Cray collapsed, the wind knocked out of him. As he sat there dazed for a moment, Danny’s foot hit his back, and Cray covered his head as he crumpled into a ball. Now both older boys were kicking him. “Stop!” he screamed out. A barrage of kicks now pummeled his chest and back, bruising his insides and raising welts. He tried to get up on all fours to crawl, but the boys were not about to give up their new found kick-toy, and he felt a foot slam down on his back pushing him back to the ground for some more abuse. Cray wept as the older boys continued wailing on him, until finally one of their feet clipped his nose.

Cray’s eyes watered and the world dissolved around him. Purple and black spots clouded his vision, and a numbness, like what he imagined a 3-foot needle of Novocain would provide, wrapped itself around him.

VI

Odors of wild-flowers filled his nose, and he looked around. Cray remembered everything at first: The first day of school, Johnny and Ms. Swartz, Robbie Snyder. But then the images stopped. What had happened next?

Cray looked up to the sky and gasped. The sky was violet and the sun a pale green, which seemed to be smiling. No, not smiling, grimacing. A painful grimace of green light glared down on him.

“Don’t go back Cray,” a low crackling voice spoke from behind him. Cray turned his head scanning the area and saw nothing but brown fields of tall uncut grass stretching out endlessly toward the horizon. No wildflowers to smell. No shadows gracing fields. Just brown fields and violet sky filled his field of vision. And a black dot in the distance. Cray blinked, and suddenly it was no longer just a dot. It was a wave. A great black wave which was moving swiftly over the fields toward him.

Cray tried to turn and run, but it was no use. His whole body froze, and a moment later the wave crashed. And after another moment, all was black.


CHAPTER TWO

I

Johnny leaned back against the window at the Speedy-Mart, slowly tugging at his cigarette and staring off into space. Patience wasn’t one of his strong suits. He’d already been waiting around for twenty five minutes or so according to the clock on the wall inside the store, and had no idea how much longer it would be. “…get something to drink,” he muttered to himself as he wandered into the store.

With the exception of the attendant behind the counter, the store was empty. Johnny walked over to the walk-in refrigerators still muttering to himself, “Jesus, where the hell is he?”

The attendant looked up upon hearing a customer, but went right back to his magazine afterward. It looked like a porno mag from where Johnny was standing, twenty feet away with aisles of candy bars, cleaning supplies and buns in between. Johnny turned back toward the fridges again. Sodas, a hundred shapes, sizes and flavors filled three of the five walk-ins. The last two on the right were full of teas and juices and various other refrigerated foods. Johnny fished in his pocket for some change and pulled out a mere 55 cents. “Looks like the generic shit again,” he said to himself as he grabbed the can and started walking back toward the register.

“That it?” the attendant asked, getting up from his stool and stretching.

“Yeah,” Johnny responded, tossing two quarters up on the counter, “keep the change.” He started toward the double glass doors that led back to the parking lot. As the doors slid opened in front of him a smile appeared on his face. Cutting between a couple of the gas pumps in the parking lot was Cray. “I was starting to get worried,” he yelled out.

“No worries,” Cray called back as he sauntered toward his friend. “Danny had to…um, get everything sliced.” Sliced was what they had been calling cutting up pot the past few months. “Then the taste test, and here I am.”

“Where’s the best spot you think?” Johnny asked as Cray walked up.

Cray had to think about it for a minute. “Well, we can’t go to my house. Uncle Mike said I can’t bring anybody home until Pops is up on his feet again. And I’m guessing that your house is out too?”

“Yeah,” replied Johnny, “my folks are both home, and they’ve really been on my case lately. What about the park?”

“Sounds good to me. Let me just give Kris a call first.”

II

Ten years had passed since the fight. Johnny remembered it vividly to this day. He still felt so small every time he thought about it. How he had just stood there watching the bigger kids pound on his new friend until he had passed out. How he had finally run over to Cray’s lifeless body after Robbie and Danny had had their fun. And even how he went to the hospital to sit by Cray during his 13 days in a coma.

© Copyright 2004 MC Cayman (mattkelman at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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