The Mockreet - Chapter 27

Printer-friendly version

Springfield Ohio - July 16 2012

My floor creaked. It always creaked on the way out; there was that weak spot by the door, guess I’d walked on it too much. Figured one day I’d step on it and fall straight through to the crawlspace. I stepped into the hall, tugging at the waist of my jeans and stepped on a section of soggy carpet. I recoiled and lifted my stocking foot up; urine.

“Mom!” I shouted, holding up my wet foot and hopping as I tried unsuccessfully to remove the sock. I succeeded only in falling against the wall, sending a resounding thud through the trailer. “Mom Joey pissed on the floor again! Right outside my room! MOM!”

“Would you settle yourself down, Lyra?” Mom peeked out from the kitchen cabinet. Her hair was an absolute mess, and she was wearing that blue striped apron again. She thought she was a chef. “So clean it up! There’s bottle of Resolve right thre in the cabinet.”

“Joey ain’t my rabbit, mom,” I sat down hard at the kitchen table, the chair rattled beneath me. “And you oughta get a carpet scrubber for us.”

“Then this ain’t your house, and we can’t afford a carpet scrubber,” Mom slammed a plate on the counter and dropped an egg and piece of toast onto it. “Now come get your breakfast, and take this to your brother.”

I looked to Luke who sat in his high chair, playing with some stupid toy, oblivious to everything that was going on. I huffed. 

“Mom he’s like one, it’s time he started pulling his weight around here. Make him vacuum something.”

“He barely has opposable thumbs,” She lectured me; I walked to the counter and grabbed the small plastic plate and dropped it onto the tray after moving the toy.

“Here you go, you little shit,” I smirked at him as he cried and reached for the toy. I handed it back and walked around the counter, toward the refrigerator. “You gonna make me eggs too?”

“It’s time you started pulling your own weight around here,” My mother replied. “Make your own eggs.”

“This is child abuse!” I protested, slamming the refrigerator doors shut. The cabinet next to the fridge shook, pans rattled around inside.

“Oh good,” Mom said. “Report me, maybe they’ll take you away and I can get some sleep for once.”

“Oh ha ha ha mom, you’re hilarious.”

“I know,” She smiled. “I should put on a comedy act.”

“Good,” I said. “you can sell it out to AARP members.”

“What are you planning to do today?” She asked me. “it’s Saturday.”

“Yeah? I didn’t know,” I snorted. “Well you know, I’m gonna go down to the park, do some hardcore drugs, hide a body, maybe swim naked. Teenage stuff.”

“Don’t be absurd,” Mom rolled her eyes. “There’s no lake in the park. Nearest place to swim is the John Brown Reservoir. Don’t swim there, remember that kid, died in 2006.”

“He was 21, and no one cares,” I rolled my eyes. “I’m not gonna lose a fight to a buoy.” 

“That’s what he thought too. There’s five bucks on the other counter, take it down to the store and get some cleaning stuff so we can do the kitchen later.”

“Okay, but it’s all gonna be lemon,” I said, snatching the five from the counter and sliding it into my pocket. 

“You and your lemon.”

“It’s good for the drains, you said so yourself, and I like the way it smells.”

On the way out, I passed Joey near the front door, he thumped his back foot against the floor as I walked outside into the blazing summer heat. 

I held my hand up to my forehead to block the sun and cracked a grin at the sight of construction equipment on the street. The entirety of the road had been torn up, something about replacing a water main; I could see long black, mud-covered pipes sitting on the sidewalk and a yellow backhoe, motor idling as a pudgy guy in a hardhat sat eating a burrito at the controls.

“Teddy!” I shouted gleefully as I walked to the end of my driveway, toward the mounting pile of dirty and debris that had blocked my mom’s Focus in for the last two weeks. “What the hell you guys doin? Tear it up, put it in, tear it up again, aintcha gonna make up your mind?”

Teddy nodded to me and then held up his burrito. “Burrito!”

“Aww come on Teddy, it’s nine in the morning!”

“Breakfast burrito!” He shouted over the hum of the idling motor.

“Yeah!” I pointed both fingers at him and slid into a side shuffle down the cracked sidewalk. “Got ya a little egg, some bacon, little bit of saussagggge, why don’t you try fixing the road instead, asshole?”

Teddy raised his free hand and flipped me the bird; I laughed and turned, walking down the sidewalk past two other workers, one leaning idly on a jackhammer while the other one stared at a clipboard.

“Look, Mark,” The first man said. “All I’m saying is Idocracy is just the inverse of Gattaca!”

“You’re nuts man,” The second man, apparently named Mark said as I walked out of earshot, toward the neighbor’s house. I snatched the red bike from the front lawn knowing Tommy wouldn’t miss it and pedaled toward the front of the park. The blue ‘Springfield Meadows arch towered overhead as I pedaled toward Troy Road. 

I took a left at the intersection and rode toward Crown Market. It was a small hole in the wall gas station that had been bought out by Marathon a few years ago, but it had the stuff I needed, and if I wanted to go anywhere else I would have to ride my bike down Upper Valley and that wasn’t happening until later. 

Dropping the bike against the ice box, I strolled into the shop, bell ringing as I walked past the counter. Lenny was there, as usual. He’d picked this as his summer job. Sucker. 

The smell of bagged bread and floor cleaner assaulted my nostrils and I scrunched my face. It wasn’t lemon. Everyone knew lemon was the best scent for cleaner. With that in mind I walked to the last shelf and grabbed a bottle of lemon Pledge.

“Hey Lenny!” I exclaimed as I slammed the plastic spray bottle onto the counter. “This and…a pack of menthols.”

“I can’t sell you cigarettes, Lyra,” Lenny rolled his eyes at me and began to ring up the bottle of Lemon Pledge.

“Well why the hell not?”

“Are you eighteen?”

“In like three years, you writing a book or something?” I asked, raising an eyebrow. He narrowed his eyes at me. “You should get a picture of me to put on the cover. Add it to your collection.”

“Buy the candy cigarettes,” he suggested. “You aren’t going to know the difference.”

“Oh I will too,” I insisted. “They don’t smoke the same.”

“I think they don’t smoke at all, but you’ve never had a cigarette have you?”

“I’ve watched people smoke them.”

“Oh, yes,” He nodded. “That’s absolutely the same.”

“Come on Lenny, sell her the cigarettes,” A new voice said, I turned around and grinned, it was Kelly. She walked to the counter, dressed in her form fitting pink t-shirt, long brown hair flowing about her shoulders, pink lip gloss and and a black choker around her neck. She leaned against the counter and gave him the most seductive look she could possibly muster, I did my best not to burst out laughing as Lenny’s face turned at least three shades of red.

“I’m not selling either of you cigarettes,” He sputtered. “Get out of here or I’ll…I swear I’ll…”

“You’ll what?” I laughed. “Fine just give me the cleaner. Oh! And these!”

 I reached beneath the counter, toward the impulse rack and slammed a box of Dots down by the register. Lenny rolled his eyes at me and rung up the box and the pledge. I paid him and walked out with Kelly in tow.

“We oughta let him have a break, one of these times,” Kelly laughed as I hung the plastic bag on the handlebars of the bike. 

“Oh he’ll break alright,” I agreed.

“Whatever,” She said, giving her hair a flick. “Come on, I’ve got something way better anyway. Let’s head into town.”

Heading ‘into town’ was a lot easier said than done; we couldn’t continue down Troy road because of the steep incline down Upper Valley Pike, so we had to bike all the way around, stopping back at my house to drop the lemon pledge off. We biked to the St. Paris connector and over to Bechtle Avenue. It took about two hours, we stopped a few times, once by the side of the road to take a breather, and another time in a small alcove of trees to take a pull on our water bottles. It seemed like forever, but eventaully we pulled onto Bechtle, bike tires whining with each rotation. What used to be an empty road was now a thriving commercial district that had essentially taken the place of the Upper Valley Mall. We pedaled past Gamestop, the Golden Dragon, and the Wal-Mart until we reached the latter half of Upper Valley Pike. Pedaling through Bechtle and past Kroger, we finally found ourselves by the Putt Putt course where Lenny’s cousin worked.

“I like Dale a lot better,” I told Kelly as we leaned our bikes against the building. The sound of putters clinking against golf balls, kids shouting, and that stupid windmill turning all followed us as we walked up the path and into the front of the shop. Inside was a perfect time capsule preserved since the 90’s. A white room with a counter; a rack of old putters behind, hanging on the wall. To my left there was an ancient Ms. Pac Man arcade cabinet, sputting off beeps and boops from a bygone era. I’d played it before, my dad had brought me here, back when he was still alive. 

Dale was older than Lenny, like a lot older. I think he was like 25 or something and a high school dropout. Most kids worked here for a summer and quit, Dale was on his way to becoming the manager. Whatever that was worth. He was tall and lanky with long greasy hair, dressed in that stupid black ‘Golf and Games’ polo shirt. I felt kind of sorry for him; he was standing there dealing with what I guessed was a youth group, bunch of kids and their pastor taking them on a youth group outing or whatever. 

“Oh this is lame!” Kelly exclaimed, causing the nine church kids to turn and look at her.

“Leave them alone,” I rolled my eyes. “They’re playing putt putt for god or whatever.”

“Excuse me!” A blonde girl in an extremely modest black button up blouse and red skirt said, stepping toward me. “If you don’t have anything nice to say-”

“I don’t have anything nice to say to you,” I laughed. “Ain’t gonna stop me from talking though!”

The girl scowled and took another step toward me, but the older man, who I presumed to be their pastor stepped in.

“Hey now,” He warned her. “Remember, ‘What Would Jesus Do?’”

“Jesus would trash a temple,” I told the pastor, he shot me a side eye and then looked back to the girl. 

“Ashley, calm down, turn the other cheek, that’s what Jesus would do.”

“Difference between you and Jesus, is at least he got nailed,” I stuck my tongue out at the girl who looked at me and shrieked.

“How dare you?!” She demanded. “Jesus was a virgin!”

“That’s not what Mary Magdeline said,” Kelly goaded her. “Bet he’s got all kinds of bastard kids running around.”

“Yeah!” I added. “Have you seen the Da Vinci code? It’s based on a true story!”

“Okay, okay,” The pastor said. “Easy, just take it easy.”

“Oh and what about you?” Kelly asked the youth pastor. “You gonna take all the kiddies back to your church, put on a beanie cap and play some guitar, tell them you don’t need Twitter because you’ve got the Bible?”

“Okay look, that bit works!” The youth pastor glared.

“Yeah, on them,” I laughed.

“Hey!” Dale shouted from behind the counter. “Knock it off you two.”

The youth group left, the pastor shot me an angry look just as the door closed behind them. 

“Making friends?” Dale asked, leaning against the counter.

“Here to buy. Your cousin is lame,” Kelly reached into her pocket and flicked a twenty dollar bill toward Dale. He slid it from the counter and put it in his pocket.

“You don’t need to tell me,” He rolled his eyes. “But at least he doesn’t come to my work making trouble.”

“Whatever, just give it,” Kelly held her hand out, wiggling her fingers. Dale smacked a plastic baggie into her hand and we were on our way.

“Wonder if he sells anything else,” Kelly said aloud as we walked back toward the front of the building. 

“I don’t know,” I said. “Let’s just find a spot and-”

“Hey!” The blonde girl was stomping toward us, through the green of the course, putter in hand. I flinched, preparing to say something, but the last thing I saw was the head of the club rushing toward my face. 

Darkness enveloped me and then it was replaced by a rolling green landscape stretching into the horizon and ending in a steep mountain range. I gasped and dropped down onto the grass, my butt slamming into the ground as a gentle breeze washed over me. Behind, I could hear the crash of waves and the scent of salt air invaded my nostrils.

“Wh- where am I?” I gasped, looking from left to right. This wasn’t Ohio, this wasn’t even Kansas. “Did I smoke already?”

Yeah, that was the explanation, the weed had been laced and I was having the best trip ever. Or the worst, depending. this place was kind of boring. I took another deep breath, closed my eyes, and then, silence.

“So who did you piss off?” My mother’s voice floated down to me. I opened my eyes and immediately squeezed them shut; the beeping of hospital equipment filled my ears; the gash on my head immediately began to throb. 

“Uh…god people,” I muttered. “Youth group I think.”

“That’ll get you every time,” Mom said, the sarcasm and mild disappointment evident in her tone. “They’re prolly just gonna patch you up and send you on your way.”

I opened my eyes and stretched, squeezing my eyes shut in pain. 

“What, no overnight stay?”

“Do you think our insurance will pay for that?” As she spoke, I heard the piercing shriek of Luke’s scream as he pushed at mom, trying to wiggle his way out of her arms.

“Aw mom, did you have to bring him?” I asked, sitting up in the hospital bed. “This is my thing, you know? Getting pounded, ending up in the hospital.”

“I can’t leave him at home, Lyra. When are you going to grow up? You’re almost sixteen.”

“Soon as you get us some internet at home, so I can watch YouTube videos about growing up. I’m tired of stealing the neighbor’s wifi.”

“About that, Lyra,” Mom shifted Luke to her other arm, he screamed again and she handed him a bottle, which he promptly tossed onto the floor. It clattered against the linoleum and rolled toward the door. “I’m moving Jerald in.”

“No you ain’t either!” I sat up suddenly and glared at her in spite of the pain. “I told you I don’t like him!”

“You want internet or not? I can’t pay all the bills by myself, Lyra!”

“All he does is drink and yell at me! We’re fine by ourselves, mom! He’s not moving in!”

“He is,” She said firmly. “Tomorrow. He’ll pay half the rent, we’ll have money for food and internet, it’s gotta be done, Lyra.”

“No it doesn’t!” I exclaimed, glaring at her. “I’ll get a job! I’ll pay half the rent!”

“Lyra there’s nowhere around here that’s gonna hire a fifteen year old, Crown’s not hiring, Upper Valley Mall’s gone to shit.”

“What about Bechtle Avenue?” I suggested. “I can work at that one restaurant!”

“Lyra,” Mom said firmly.

“Linda,” I stared at her obstinately, she narrowed her eyes as I used her first name.

“We need money now. There’s an eviction notice on our door, pantry’s almost empty. Even if you could get a job, you think you could dig us out of debt tomorrow? It’s done, he’s moving in.”

“This is so unfair,” I pouted, slamming my head back into the pillow and wincing as pain shot through my skull again. Luke shrieked again. “Oh would you shut him up?”

up
100 users have voted.
If you liked this post, you can leave a comment and/or a kudos! Click the "Thumbs Up!" button above to leave a Kudos

Comments

We get a little bit more of Lyra's backstory

Julia Miller's picture

And the interesting part was she found herself in the Liminality for a brief instant while she was unconscious, so it looks like someone had her in their sights. The Mockreet?