(Ive been feeling a little down this week...enough that taking a long jump from a tall condo building was on my mind a lot. But, I'm still here, but still having those feelings at time...writing helps, in short bursts...so, I have to take back my promise to not post snippets at a time...as it helps)

VIII. Where Boys Fear to Tread

Asking Alex for money was never a pleasant experience.
He wouldn’t force me to do his chores (I already did most of them anyway).
He wouldn’t hold it over me like some loan shark (unless gas money was on the line).
No, it was because if I asked for money he would ask:

“What do you need it for?”
“Woman things.”
“Mom can buy those.”
“Mom isn’t on her way to the store, we are.”

I really hoped that his feelings of disgust by over-thinking the situation would override any thoughts like “hey, I might get married one day and you know, I’ll have to buy this for my wife one day…” as I was not going to buy tampons (because we had an ample supply…not that Alex would have even known or cared to find out) but a particular form of test. One that I really hoped I’d fail.
Or pass…whatever. I just wanted the “not pregnant” sign to come up. One line, a whistle, something that said “you dodged it there, you lucky bitch…Karma won’t be so nice the next time.”

I leaned my head up to the door and dreaded having to ask again.

"You've been quiet lately."
"Nothing much to say."
"Are you still pissed about the other day? I didn't think it was going to be a big deal to you, Cherr."
"Forget about it." I replied as I sat back up and leaned back into the seat.

Airway Heights, came into view and Alex slowed the car down from warp speed to “for the love of God, slow down!”

"No, because the phase 'forget about it' is on par with 'nothing'."
"I'm good. Just hate school right now."
"Do me a favor, don't become a bitch like Alexis. I'll be glad when she gets her own damn license."
"Then she wouldn't pay you to drive her to work."
"It's not worth the headache."

I nodded as we pulled into the parking lot.

“Will ten bucks do?”
“Yeah.”
He fished into his jacket pocket and pulled out a wadded up bill that had a slight smell to it. Hopefully the store clerk wouldn’t care.

“Let her majesty know her coach has arrived.”

Alex pulled the car up to the front door, grabbed my backpack, and got out.

The grocery store was cavernous with a mess of aisles, a produce department and a video rental counter. Alexis used to able to rent a movie for next to nothing…at least it would be nothing except we would lose said videotape somewhere in the house….and that was it for that.

Alexis was at one of the check-out lanes—which meant it would take her fifteen more minutes before she could clock out for the day. I ducked down an aisle before she could see me and walked to the pharmacy area in the back.
The pharmacy was closed but the object of my search was on one of the side aisles. The irony of condoms hanging right above the chest-height shelves that held the tests was not not on me.
“Shit,” I muttered at the prices…with the lowest priced one at almost twelve dollars.
Maybe I should have stated that I needed the“Super Absorbent Armageddon” brand maxi and had asked for twenty…of course if I did I would have had to start bleeding through my jeans and that was not going to happen.
“Dammit,” I whispered. “Rip it out of Josh’s—“ I huffed and clenched my teeth as I walked away form the shelf and quietly walked to the center of the back aisle.
No one present.
Not a soul shopping in that area.
“I have to know.”
I walked back to the shelf, grabbed one of tests and then stepped away without any sign of nervousness. I wasn’t nervous about buying it; no, because people but them all the time.
People buy Rocky Mountain Oysters and Jolt Cola without others questions them.
No, they would question the fact that I palmed the test and placed it up my jacket sleeve.

The journey from the back of the store to the front checkout felt like an an eternity with the conflicting voices in my head telling me that what I was doing was wrong…dishonest—my picture would be in the dictionary under the term “thief.” The other one telling me that my sanity and body was worth it and besides how much food did the store probably throw out each day that was worth more than twelve bucks?
I took a bottle of soda out of one coolers next to a check-out lane

“Did you find everything?” The checker asked me as the bottle travelled all by its lonesome to the scanner at the end.

I only nodded because if I opened my mouth it would explode in a verbal diarrhea of how I hated Josh; how life really sucked at that moment and that I had no idea in Hell if my feelings were being steered by rage or hormones.

"Dollar seven, please."
I avoided eye contact as I handed the ten over to her.
Alexis was now at customer service, counting down her register.
"Thank-you, have a good day," the clerk said with a smile as she handed me the change.
I walked away from the register only to turn around at the sound of my name.

“Cherry!” Alexis waved at me from the video counter. “Tell Alex that—“
“Tell me what?” Alex yelled—louder than he really had to.—as he stepped over to me.
Alexis shook her head as she continued counting out her til.
“What’s taking so long…You bought a coke?”
“They didn’t have what I needed. You want your change?”
“No, keep it.”
“Thanks.”
“Yep.” Alex looked to the video counter. “And look who’s here?”
We both looked to see Wes talking with Alexis.

Alex’s face went into a seasons of expressions: pissed; then a frown, a smile and then to a sadistic grin.
He walked away from me, past the checkout stands and to the side of the customer service counter.
I followed, only because I didn't want to look out of place, since I had stolen merchandise shoved up my arm. Alex would divert attention away from a train wreck, so I was safe.

“I’m looking for this movie about a pathetic guy who's trying to ask out this chick but he just can’t.”
“I’m sorry, we don’t have the “Alex Moone Story” here. Why don’y you try Premiere Video?” Alexis answered without even looking up as she completed her count and dropped a zipped bag into the safe.
“Hey, Alex,” Wes said with a smile and a wave.
“Wesley.”
“Hi, Cherry.”

I just waved. Wes was sometimes too friendly…not in a creepy way but just enough that I didn’t feel comfortable. Like he wanted to sit on a coach with our family, everyone dressed in a cardigan while sipping hot chocolate before a roaring fire and I didn’t want to admit to myself that I wanted it too.

“Wes, can you call me later on tonight?” Alexis asked as she took her apron off.
“How late?”
“Whenever you get off.”
“As you wish,” he replied with a smile STILL on his face.
Alex rolled his eyes. “We’ll meet you in the car!”

I was once again banished to then back seat of the car. Which was fine, as it allowed me finally take the damn pregnancy test from out of my sleeve and into my backpack. I adjusted my position and closed my eyes. I really didn’t want to talk to anyone and since Alexis seldom let anyone talk in her presence, even better.
"You know what your problem is, Alexis?"
"Oh, please tell me, Dad."
"You take everything too seriously."
"So glad you noticed. Maybe you should take some initiative and grow up too."
“I’m going to be Peter Pan,” Alex said as he floored the accelerator and we sped off to Reardan.
"I'm trying to keep a four point and a job. Both of which you don't even try to do."
"I don't kiss ass, unlike you."
"Working and studying hard does not mean I kiss ass."
"Well, what did you kiss to get so far? Or would that be suck?"
"That's exactly what I mean: This family is full of slackers and deviants."
"Which camp do you fall in?"
"I'm going to be someone, Alex. I'm not going to be some knocked up bitch that drops out of school because her boyfriend dumps her and tells her to get lost.”
I kept my eyes closed, feigning sleep.
"Oh no, of course not.that would never happen to anyone like you. Miss high and mighty."
"Whatever."
"However, I think Wes has other plans."
"Wes and I are friends."
"With benefits, maybe."
"I don't have time for a relationship, Alex and even if I did-"
“So, you're telling me that Wes doesn't do anything for you?"
"He doesn't have to."
“What do you think, Cherry? She's asleep.”
“She's always asleep the past few days. Besides, what would she know?”
“She's got a boyfriend.”
“A boyfriend? Josh Daniels? Yeah, that's going to last.”
“You never know. They’ve lasted longer than any of your relationships.”
“Oh, fuck you, Alex.”
“Ooh, did I strike a nerve?”
“Junior high love, please. Eighth graders understanding concept of love. Complete and utter bullshit. They're all horny bastards who want to be friends, want to be with them for the sex and then. Then it's on to a bigger breasted, slutty.ugh, Never mind.”
“Now that sounds like a nerve.”
“God, have one bad relationship--”
"--And you hear about it for forever."
"You're past girlfriend has been Senorita Manos, what do you know?
"Burn me again."

I feigned sleep the entire trip to Reardan; only because I didn’t want to talk to either of them. Alex dropped me off at Christy’s house and I shambled down the stairs to the basement of the house. Christy opened the door and we rushed to her room.

“I picked one up.”
“Seriously?”
“Yep. I really didn’t want to. It’s like mental torture. I want to know but you know, I really don’t want to know.”
I opened my bag and tossed the box to Christy.
“Okay, let’s say you are. Are you going to tell Josh?”
“Hell no.”
“Your mom?”
“Double Hell to the no.”
“Will you at least tell me?”
I nodded—at least Christy wouldn’t scream at me or say that I did something stupid…even though it wasn’t like it was MY fault.

Christy opened the box to reveal a multi-folded poster-like manual and the wrapped test.
“It’s a frickin’ book,” she said as she unfolded and flipped through it.
“Five minutes, right?” I asked as I picked up the wrapped package.
“Yeah, it says do the thing on the thingy and in five minutes, mommy detector.”
“Not helping."

I went into the bathroom and closed the door.
“His mother is going to freak if she finds out.”
“I thought that too,” I said as I did what needed to be done for the magic to occur. “She’s the last one on my last of people who need to know.”
“Do I see a shotgun wedding in your future?”
“The hell you don’t!”
“She’ll make the two of you take parenting classes. Oh my God, could you see him in a Lamaze class?”
“Nope, because she’s never going to know.” I replied as I placed the test on the edge of the sink, knowing fully well where it had just been and feeling a little queasy because of it...the counter was so nice and clean.
I opened the bathroom door, stepped into the hallway and into Christy’s room.

“Whatever that says, it’s lying.”
“If it says yes or no?”
“If its says yes, it’s lying. If it says no, it is the greatest creation in the history of mankind.”
Christy looked beyond me and into the bathroom, as if she could see the results form there.
“It doesn’t really matter either way.”
“Are you going to get an abortion?”
“Haven’t thought that far ahead,” I whispered.
“I mean, I’m not saying that you should or shouldn’t, I-“
I nodded as I sat down on the edge of her bed. “That’s kind of a half truth. I have thought of it.”
“Having one?”
“Nope, not having one....but then I think about my mom doing the single mother hustle and...do I want that shit for my kid?”
“But, Josh?”
“Single mother with two kids then.”
“But you could get help.”
“People will help, a little,” I sighed. “But at the end of the day, it will all be my fault and I’ll have to take care of everything on my own. School and all that. I seriously doubt that I could ever get child care and can you imagine taking a baby to first period anything?”
“Speaking of periods, or-“

“Shut-up,” I replied as Christy got up and walked into the bathroom. “Whatever it says, it’s defective!”

I looked away from the bathroom door. I knew what it would say.

It was going to be positive. What was the point of pretending that it wouldn’t be? While someone else would hold onto the hope that the results would be negative so they could breathe a sigh of relief and then jump with joy that life would merrily roll along like a happy little puppy. My puppy would be the one to take a huge dump on a freshly mowed lawn and then look at me with eyes that said “yeah, bitch, I did that. You just try and clean that up.”

“Well?” I asked.
“It’s lying.”
“No, it’s not.”
“Cherry, you're pregnant.”
“Dammit.”
Christy walked back in with the test. I took it from her and started at it with hatred in my eyes; hoping that I could make it burst into flames under sheer willpower.
“It's okay, Cherry, everyone--“
“No, Christy, it isn't ok. I'm not everyone. I'm thirteen, I have a crappy life so far and now this.”
“How many months are you?”
“I don't know. Not like I keep a little black book of dates.”
“Well, you're gonna need to find out.”
“How?”
Christy went to her desk and sat down. “There’s a clinic in Spokane.”
“Great, when do we steal a car?”
“What?”
“Not like I can ask someone to drive me downtown.”
“Becky could get us a car and we could go tomorrow.”
“With what money?”
“I think it’s free.”
“Even better.”

Chapter Nine: Tales of a Scorched Earth

I woke up at six in the morning on that Saturday. I never woke up early on Saturday, not since I was in first grade and before Dad shot out the television with a 9mm. It was a quiet morning in New York, where we lived up until I was in fourth grade. I had a bowl of “Froot Loops” and sat on the couch watching the morning cartoons until Alexis staggered in and stepped over my legs. She could have gone around or over the couch, but instead she decided to step over my legs which were stretched out from the couch to the coffee table. She missed her target and fell onto my leg, causing me to scream, drop my cereal on the carpet.

I forgot to mention that eating in the living room wasn’t allowed as we were renting the apartment.

So, I yell, and Alexis shouts out a few choice words and Wednesday, hearing her from the hall, goes onto a tirade as she runs into the living room. By then, my leg feels like it was snapped; sugary milk and soggy loops are all over the couch, coffee table and the carpet; and my older sisters are talking like they’re in the second week of Marine boot camp when Dad storms into the living room.

My father was a hippie that had no idea the sixties had ended; at least that’s what he used to tell us. That was only half the truth though, for as much as he believed in peace, love and understanding he also believed that the police were always against him; the government was always looking into how to screw the common man; and he didn’t have to do a damn thing if he didn’t want to.

He took one look at the fighting, me, the floor; the Smurfs on the television, and then reached into his robe pocket and then into a drawer that I never noticed before, pulled out a gun, loaded a magazine and then shot the TV.

Fortunately, I had already gone to the bathroom.

Mom stormed from the all and into the living room.
“What the Hell, Wayne!”
Dad had lowered the gun and removed the clip. “Well, kiddos, I guess we need to move.”
Mom didn’t say a thing, as her eyes and facial expression said it all.

Two days later, we moved out of our apartment of four years and started a five-week trek across the United States in an old-style Volkswagen van and a blue Toyota Corolla. Mom drove the minivan with the three girls while Dad and Alex drove ahead of us. We kept in contact through a CB radio and at times could switch the channels to talk to the truckers and anyone else who was “on the horn”.

We stayed at campgrounds and parking lots at night. We were living off what we had with just enough money to keep fuel in the cars. There were times we stayed at a campground for a few days and kind of absorbed ourselves with the other kids there. It was a lot like summer camp, but even better: no camp counselors screaming their heads off. We just had Alexis, who nominated herself to the position of “mom” while our parents were away and, of course, we made it our mission to ignore everything she said. We did this for a few hours, until we all felt hungry, and the three of us realized Alexis was the only one who knew how to cook anything. Alex could light a fire, he could anything on fire, but everything would burn; from hot dogs, s’mores to cereal. We had to grovel to Alexis to feed us, even if it was Oliver Twit gruel and for the last night at the campground, it felt like we were going to have to go begging or resort to more desperate measures when Mom and Dad returned with a few bags of food. We ate well that night. No one asked where the food came from.
We all had our ideas, but no one ever asked.

We stopped everywhere on our cross-country trip: from Mount Rushmore to some sleezy tourist trap in the middle of bum-frick nowhere that promised everything under the sun but wasn’t worth wasting a flashbulb on. Alexis slowly grew on everyone’s nerves and she was moved to the car with Alex and Dad—much to her chagrin—and constantly muttered about the cigarette smoke and ash dancing in the air as we drove on to our destination: my grandfather’s land in Washington state.

The first thing we noticed upon arriving was that we were out in the middle of nowhere. I never remembered my grandfather’s place, as I was just a baby the last time we were there, but I knew instantly that I missed the buses, buildings and the beaches of New York. It didn’t matter that I would one day ride a school bus; see tall buildings in Spokane or go to the many lakes that made up the Columbia River Basin…it still sucked.

It was in early July when we finally moved into the house after spending a month in the quasi-finished upstairs of my grandfather’s house. It didn’t really matter to me as there were no other kids around for miles and I had gotten tired of hearing my brother and sisters complaining about everything so I would go off by myself to the woods across the street and think about how great it was going be to be to have friends come over and camp out in these very woods, away from everything and under the stars. I thought that maybe, one day, I’d have a boyfriend who would want to spend time with me in a small clearing, surrounded by trees.

We could take short walks or long strolls down the gravel roads that criss-crossed the Hutterite farms while holding hands and laughing about things we didn’t understand. Then look at each other’s eyes and get lost in time—where nothing else would matter. We could talk about our pasts, present and our future together with no interruptions from anyone. No current family issues or school life to interfere.

Of course, it didn’t take long before a great sense of dread fell over me as I was pretty sure I wouldn’t make friends easily. We were city folk from the east who were going to be attending some school in a farming community where everyone knows whose uncle left the gate open and allowed a bull to escape or who was the oldest in kindergarten. I was sure it was going to be a good ol’ boy kind of thing. I thought this so much that my ears burned in shame. I also smelled smoke. I turned my head and saw a pillar of smoke over the tree tops.
Normally, one would run away from flames but I ran towards it to see that it was on the hill behind the house; the house we had barely even spent time in and it was on its way to being burned up. I ran to the house and thew the kitchen door open.

“There’s a fire behind the house!”
No one was in the kitchen or the living room but I heard a crashing sound coming form my parents’ bedroom.
Mom raced out of the room with a psycho look in her eyes as she ran past me and looked out the window.
“Shit. Cherry, get the hose.”
Mom ran out the kitchen door, opened the dryer, grabbed two towels and then ran around the house as I stood in the kitchen wondering where the hose—much less a faucet—was.
Wednesday and Alexis hurriedly climbed the ladder and ran to the same window to see the dark clouds of smoke.
“Holy shit,” Wednesday yelled and then ran out the door.
Alexis walked out behind her. Leaving me to take up the rear.

We ran up and over the hill to see dad and Alex fighting a losing battle against a brush fire. They were using their shirts and feet to stomp out the flames before taking a step back. It was at that time that a deafening explosion occurred.

The noise was deafening, followed by bright flashes of sparks and more flames.
“Shit, Wayne! Really, fireworks?” Mom screamed as she threw one of the towels at him.
“It seemed like a good idea at the time!” Dad yelled as they batted at the flames.

It took over forty minutes before the fire department arrived with several large trucks and digging equipment. They were able to get close to the fire, due to the rutted paths on grandpa’s land and they dug a fire line between the flames and the house. Mom and Dad traded a few choice words back and forth over the fireworks he bought on the Reservation two weeks prior. Not exactly fireworks, but more like four large bricks of pressed gunpowder with a simple fuse. They were trying to light it when it short-fused and Alex dropped the match, causing it to light the dry grass and craggy shrubs. The fire department wasn’t happy.

Mom wasn’t happy either as Alex burned his arm form the small explosion and the fire department strongly recommended that it should be looked at. They took him to the local hospital in Davenport, leaving me alone with my sisters.
Alexis muttered about her hair smelling like smoke and ash.
Wednesday commented that is wasn’t such a big fire, not like the building fires we saw in New York.
I never saw one, so in my book, it was a pretty freaking huge fire that came within a quarter of a mile from our house.

They came home hours later with Alex’s left arm wrapped up in take and gauze. He didn’t talk about it and just went to his room after he got home. Mom went to the kitchen and started making dinner and dad stayed outside in the dying light of the day, working under his car.
The flames and the rumors reached all over Lincoln County: it was a satanic ritual; drug manufacturing, drunk kids or just some idiot playing with fire crackers on a red flag warning day. It wasn’t even the first day of school before the locals dubbed us lunatics—someone was always talking about: “hey, did you hear about that crazy family who blew up their house up there on Little Falls Road?”
This occurred for several months until people actually figured out we were the ones they were gossiping about. It was how we met the Daniels family.

We drove into Reardan in late October and nearly slammed into a car in front of us when the driver jerked the wheel from side to side and their front fire blew out. Dad looked at mom and then at me and Alexis before he shrugged and got out of the car.

“Everyone okay?” Dad asked as this huge man climbed out of the driver’s seat of the car, looked back and nodded to him.

Dad cautiously moved behind their car to the passenger side, which had the blown tire. The passenger side door of their car opened and this short woman, well, short in comparison to Andre the Giant who was looking at the tire. Mom got out as well and walked over.
Alexis then got out of the car and I followed. There was no traffic around and what traffic there was didn’t stop.

“I got a spare tire in the trunk,” Dad said as I walked behind Alexis. I admit I should have stayed in the car as I had watched TV shows. Sure, we were on the outskirts of town but that’s usually when you meet “The Children of the Corn” or at least some kind of masked killer. I froze when two tall boys stepped out of the back of the car. I had seen one of them around school, his name was Josh, but I didn’t really know him as he had just started at Reardan. I wanted to run back to the car.

“You’re Cherry, right?”
Alexis walked right on by and Josh stood in front of me.
“Yes.” I replied with a little bit of hesitation.
“Josh Daniels. This is my brother, Dave.”
Dave didn’t look at me as he walked away from the car and to the side of the road.
Dad walked past us to the back of out car.
Several cars zoomed past.
They hadn’t killed us yet, but I still didn’t like being there.

Mom and Alexis talked with the woman, who I learned was named named Leah Daniels. Her husband, who at first I guessed was named Fezzik, went by the name of John. They had moved to Washington from Alabama, so like us, they were living in a land of strangers where everyone said “ya’ll talk funny”.

We followed them to their house, which was one house down from the high school, and we stayed for what seemed like hours as Josh grudgingly introduced me to his four brothers and described the royal rumble they were involved in at their former school. Dave swore that everything Josh said was true. The other three brothers were too engaged in playing their Nintendo to really care.
Alexis sat in the corner of the living room reading a book in the dim lamp light while mom and dad played cards with new-found friends. I walked downstairs with Josh and we went out to the back yard and talked a bit more, I guess trying to catch up on the all of the hours we never spoke to each other at school.

I was in sixth grade, I didn’t really have any particular feelings about Josh. What was I supposed to feel about him? We were both awkward kids whose cars just about collided earlier in the day and there we were, standing in his backyard with the high school across the street. Josh looked to the school and then back to me. He arched his right eyebrow and asked: “Did you hear about the cult that set the ridge on fire a few months ago?”

Window Paine

The Moone family was known to be, well, unique.
There were four children in our house--five, if you count Mom on the days she decided to drink one beer too many. Sometimes there were more if my sisters or brother had friends over. I seldom ever invited friends to my house. I was once too afraid to even have my one-time boyfriend come over...for fear that he would see how my family was when we were at home...which was how we were at school...but one would like to dream that life's different at home.
“Do you think I have enough gas to sit here all day?”
Every morning, at about seven-fifteen, we would perform our ritualistic ride to Reardan. My only brother, Alex, would be sitting in the driver's seat of an old Honda accord, revving the engine as he smoked on a cigarette, in a race to see which one would blow out first. I would sit in the front passenger seat--on the days where I got to the car first.
My second oldest sister, Wednesday, would walk to the car and answer Alex’s question--on some mornings more profanely than others—with: “Shut-up, Alex.”
Alex would get out of the car, pop the seat to let her into the back and then hand two cigarettes to her from a pack he always carried in his front shirt pocket. She'd light one, take a long drag and then close her eyes. Alex would then tap his fingers on the top of the car and we would all wait quietly.
Except for when Alex honks the horn by stepping on the wheel with his foot.
“Alexis! C’mon!”
And then, my first oldest sister, and Alex’s fraternal twin, would walk out the front door and over to the car. On her good days she’d have her face buried in a book as she walked and then would climb into the back seat as well. And then on every other day:
“What is this?”
“Cherry's got shotgun.”
“Like hell she does!”
“You’re so right, she does so have it. Now get in car.”
“I don't believe this shit.”
Alexis would get in the back seat, swearing or muttering as she did so.
Alex would then climb back into the car, revving the engine again as he closed the door, and back the car out.
“Here's the deal, people: I'm not going to put up with what happened yesterday. I am not going to chase you guys through town to bring you home. If you don't feel like getting to the car on time, you can ride the bus or walk thirteen miles home!
“Yeah,” we’d all reply with the enthusiasm of a sloth.
“I fucking mean it. I'm not a babysitter or your taxi service.”
“We get the point, Alex.” Alexis stated.
“Wednesday, I didn't hear you, I--”
“Fuck you,” Wednesday replied, a cigarette still in her lips.
“No, fuck you!”
“Fuck you!”
“Will the two of you stop it? There's entirely too much fucking going on in this car!’
“Yeah, like you'd know, Alexis”
“Shut-up, Wednesday!”
“Why? Is this still a free country?
“Shut up, Wednesday!”
“Fuck you all.”
I had read that an extensive vocabulary was valuable and while we were not efficient with wordplay, my family was able to conjugate any four-letter word combination you could think of. If there was an assignment on the various verb tenses of “fuck”, I’d still like to think I’d get a 100% on it.
Alex--along with Wednesday--preferred to do their chain-smoking on the way to school and, consequently, the car—along with my clothes, hair, backpack and sense of well-being, was coated with the heavy stench of nicotine and death. I always waited for one of my teachers to ask how many packs I went through daily or when they could use my lungs to demonstrate the effects of tar on a smoker.
On any other day, the smoke, even with every single window open, would waft its way to where I sat, and I wouldn't care or even get a sight cough. However, on that morning I coughed.
“Smoke bothering you, Cherr?”
“Yes, but do you care?”
“No.”
“You should quit.”
“I don't tell you to smoke, do I?”
“Whatever, Alex”
“Yeah, yeah, whatever. We’re up to our asses in whatever. Don't have any money, faith or fucking sense to know any better, but, gosh darn it all, we's got ourselves plenty of whatever.”
We attended the school in the small town of Reardan. At one time you could classify it as one of those “blink and you’ll miss it” type of towns one goes through on their way across the state of Washington. I still find it amazing that people know where the town is.
Everyone in town went to the same school—well, the same campus--with the elementary, junior high and high school on the same spot. You could start as a kindergartener and every teacher would know just about everything about you by the time you walked in as a freshman.
Tragically, that’s how my experience went. I had three older siblings who preceeded me, so by the time I got to eighth grade I had a lot of shit to deflect and a lot of standing up for myself to do. I wouldn’t stoop down to the reputation that proceeded me as I was not my brother or sisters. There was no way in Hell I was going to be slumped-in with them. We were collected known as the “Looney Moones”; apparently someone thought they were very, very witty with their wordplay.
We could've lived in Spokane and gone to a school so massive that we would blend into the ether and never stick out. But no, we went to a small farm town school where everyone pretty much knew everyone and if you were labeled as an outsider, good luck and Godspeed that you're ever accepted by the others.
Alexis and Alex felt the initial sting on their first day. We didn't have a lot of money and it must have shown in what they were wearing. The bitchy elite thought Alexis was an open target because she was a bit overweight at the time and didn't fit into their mold. Several of bi-elites witnessed one of their friends receive a near concussion when Alexis swung her satchel bag (which carried her books and, strange at the time, a curling iron and small jar of coins) and contacted the temple of the loudest and boldest of the group. Alex had better luck: he had some pot with him, so he made a few instant friends and, with a bit of sleight of hand, about a hundred and fifty bucks that first day.
Wednesday was able to quickly make friends in the junior high because she was so freaking outgoing all the time. It was like when she stepped up to the doors they either magically opened on their own or everyone fought over themselves to hold the door for her and her illustrious and imaginary train--even though she simply wore jeans, a tank top and a flannel. It was the early nineties, so I guess that had something to with it.
And that leaves me.
“Cherry!”
“Christy.”
Christy usually began the day with a long list of the things she didn't do the night before, like her homework or "diddly shit," but on mornings when she said only my name it usually meant something was wrong in her life or mine. On that day, I kind of prayed that it would be about her.
“Is it true?”
Shit, it was about me.
“It is. You broke up with him, huh?”
I wanted to get by at least first period before having to talk to about the issue, but alas.
“Why?”
“I got tired of being compared to this girl, that girl. You.”
“Seriously?”
“Yep.”
“Like how?”
“My tits aren't as big as yours.”
“I don't even think mine are big.”
“Don’t care, Christy.”
We had walked only a few steps towards the building, but I could feel the daggers flashing out at me from all directions.
“God, does the whole f’n school know?”
“Just about. What are you going to do in seventh period with Josh in Home Ec?”
That was a great question. Prior to recent events, I’d find a way to sneak out of class and we’d go make out under the stairs in the high school gym, behind the floor tarps. However, now, I had no clue on what to do.
“Nothing.”
“Doubt that.”
“I don’t need Josh’s opinion or to see him to have a good day. I don't care. He can rot in Hell.”
“You're taking it well.”
“I can let it get to me and let it ruin my life or I can take the high road.”
“Well, you know he's going to start something, Cher. Remember when I went out with David one time and what he-”
“We were friends for a long time before we got together. Josh isn't going to do that to me.”
“And you really believe that?”
I wanted to.
The Daniels Family Five. I could compare them to the seven dwarves, but we would then have to double up on Grumpy and Dopey. Josh was the oldest, followed by David, Michael, Noah and Jonah. Separated, they were just kids, but together you had a mob or at least a representation of the power of Biblical names as they would surround and pummel your ass into the ground. At least that’s what Josh told me when we first met when I asked him what brought them to Reardan.
Apparently, the Daniels’ boys had dished out a bit of “Samson-like” shenanigans at their last school. Problem was, none of the “victims” would name them as the attackers and then their parents threatened to sue the school for slander and they moved shortly after.
“He's not that shallow.”
“Can you say the same thing for Chad?”
Rebecca Petty came up and threw her arms around the two of us, weighing us down a little bit. Becky was not exactly light on her feet and her clothes looked like she raided Kurt Cobain’s trash, but she knew how to handle people, literally. Any flippant comment about her was either ignored or she’d pound the snot out of whoever said anything without working up a sweat or her temper. She did however, have an Achilles heel: Chad Piekarz.
“Can we say the same thing for Chad, what?"
“Chad will start something.”
“Start what? What's the deal?”
I looked ahead, thinking that everything would be cool with my day. We lived in a modern society and logic dictates people behave in a civilized manner. We work diplomatically; we didn't resort to tribal warfare...we didn't skin or smite our enemies. However, I was ready to swing my backpack like a sling and fire one freaking big stone in the middle of Josh's forehead as he walked towards me in the other direction. He wasn't alone though.
Chastille Bergeron was at his side. I never really hated her. I never even really knew her. However, the thought of slamming her face against the wall was high on my list of things to do that day. I couldn't though. No, the blame lied with the walking pile of excrement that was holding her hand. The same walking pile that held my hand...and heart...just a few days ago.
I avoided eye contact and rushed into my first period class room. The last thing I wanted him to see was any emotion. Why give him the satisfaction of showing that I was hurt by my replacement? And would he really want me to slam him in the balls?
I made a beeline to my desk and sat down. I still had my jacket on...never made it to my locker.
“Oh, I can see why you're pissed this morning,” Becky chipped in as she straddled the desk in front of mine.
“I'm not pissed.”
“Yes, you are. Say it: I'm pissed.”
“Fine. I'm pissed. No, no I’m more than pissed.”
I so wanted to punch Josh in multiple places...with an iron fist...that was still molten from being in the crucible.
“God damn it!”
“So much for the high road,” Christy responded as I threw my backpack over my head and against the back wall.

“The Aeroplane Flies High”

I woke up before Christy and stared at the bare walls of her bedroom. Christy lived in the partially unfinished basement of her grandmother’s house where the walls sometimes felt wet and hanging posters was just about impossible. The grey, naked bricks had millions of holes and I thought that if I could lose my mind counting those holes then I wouldn’t have to deal with my current situation:
That my family life sucked.
That my love life sucked.
That life in general sucked.

I closed my eyes, hoping that I could flip a mental switch in my brain that would just turn everything off. Not exactly death, but more of an eternal pause.
Or, maybe another meteor could crash into the Earth
Another eruption of Mt Saint Helens or Yellowstone could finally erupt like everyone says “it should do any day now”
Wasn’t going to happen as the door squeaked open and then abruptly closed.

The lights flashed on as Becky ran toward the bed and slammed her hands on the end.
I moved away and sat up while Christy remained where she was worth her head firmly on her pillow.
“Time to get going, Christy! Wake up.”
“Screw you, bitch,” Christy mumbled.
“How bout you, Cherry?”
“You got our ride?”
“Yep, my brother’s going to take us to town and then we’ll take a bus there.”
“Okay,” I replied as Becky moved to Christy’s side and nudged her.
“Wake up, Chrissy.”
“Call me that. One. More. Time.”

Thirty minutes later we walked to Becky’s house on the other side of the railroad tracks. She lived in trailer with her Mom and brother, Tom. Alex didn’t like Tom and Tom didn’t like him, so there was no loss of love on either side. Tom had once stolen a stash of weed from Alex’s car; claimed it was his and sold it at a cheaper price. Alex couldn’t just go to the police so instead he brooded over the matter until he could get back at him. Needless to say, if any of my family knew that Tom as driving me to Spokane, let alone down a few blocks to school, I wouldn’t hear the end of it.

“I found this place, they don’t ask questions, they don’t pressure you, but they’ll make everything go away.” Becky said and then took a drag of a cigarette. “They’re near the downtown. So, we just have Tom drop us off at Riverfront Park and we take a bus to where we need to go.”
“Sounds like what you, Cherr,” Christy replied as she grabbed the cigarette.
“Yeah, and they either give you some pills or schedule surgery and then, snip the problem away.”
“Swell. Whatever, I just don’t want this to get back to anyone. I’ll be so dead.” Which was true, for the Tom driving us, me going it to town without Mom knowing and the pregnancy thing to begin with. Oh, and then I’d feel the wrath of Leah and John who would scream holy hell to high heaven a bout the loss of an innocent child: Josh, as I must have somehow corrupted him.

Tom drove out of Reardan as if the town had no police force whatsoever and continued at seventy-five miles an hour past the Air Force base until he reached the interstate and then, for some unknown reason, he slowed down. Becky continously berated him for speeding and Christy held onto the “oh shit” handle as I calmly sat behind Tom’s seat. His driving wasn’t erratic like Alex’s. He didn’t try to balance a cup of coffee while he drove and even if he did it would have been okay as the car was an automatic. If I had some incense and the room I’d had sat freaking lotus style and embraced the tranquility.

We stepped out of the car in front of Riverfront Park Square and Tom drove off without another word. No, he had two for his sister: “Fuck your self”.
“He’s not going to come pick us up, is he?” Christy asked.
Becky shook her head as we took a few steps toward the park and watched Tom drive out of sight.
“No problem. We’ll just take the bus back to Airway Heights and call for a ride there, right?”
“Where’s the bus station?” I asked.
“It’s about a mile up the road.”
“A mile?” I asked. “Why not have Tom drop us off. Like near it?”
“And then have him ask questions? Duh.”
“Not going to argue. Let’s get there.”
“You don’t know how much Hell I had to go through to get him to drive us here. I has to promise that I’d give him any money I found…or took.”
I looked to Christy who shrugged. One day, Becky was going to get us thrown into juvie or a gang turf war.
We started walking.

A hour later—it was further up and to the east than Becky insisted, causing us to shave to walk in circles, before we arrived at the Spokane Transit Authority complex, found the bus route and the bus to take us to the clinic. We sat in the back of the bus. I would have preferred a side seat so I could just stare out the window and glare at the people we passed by—the ones who didn’t have my issues, my family, and my negative attitude about everything.
“Okay, Cherry, what are you going to tell them.”
“That I’m pregnant..”
“No. You will say you think you’re pregnant and its by some thirty year old guy who works at Shopko.”
“Why would she say that, Becky? They’ll call the police and want her to name the guy and nail his ass to the wall.”
“But they’ll help her more. These doctors want to help girls in crisis, who have a story to tell.”
“Can I say his name’s Johnny Depp?”
“Try a little less Hollywood.”

“I’m not going to say anything like that,” I replied as IO felt the urge to push the “stop” button and jump off of the bus. Not because I didn’t want to go through the procedure, it was because I didn’t want to lie anymore…especially if I couldn’t say it was Johnny Depp.

Forty minutes later we arrived on the corner of where the clinic was located. I walked past the bus driver with the haunting feeling that he knew why I was getting off at that particular spot. He had seen it before: the adolescent girl walk of shame. The pathetic display of a teenager with just her friends and not her boyfriend—emphasis on the boy and a hell to the no on the friend part. I wanted to turn and flip him off but instead walked off the bus and avoided looking back.

“It’s over there. I think.”
“Oh,I swear to God, Becky, if you get us lost out here.”
“Chill, it’s across the street. See?” Becky pointed to a sign that wasn’t hidden, just proudly displayed as “Life Center”. I walked ahead of them as

I didn’t want them to see me either cry tears of sorrow or joy. This place would end the problem but would it haunt me later?
Would I care, and not let it effect me at all, like Josh would if he ever found out. He wouldn’t find out. Ever! If anything, it would be a vicious rumor that he or Chastille or someone else who heard about our private moments and had to assume more things about me. Hell, they said the same things about Alexis and Wednesday at some time or another and I could deal with it. I’d kick their collective asses for lying about me being some knocked-up bitch.

I really wanted to punch something.

We walked to the front door and that was when I noticed the sign on the door. A sign that read closed.
“Well, shit, the phone book didn’t say it was closed on Saturday.” Becky threw her hands up. “I’m just as surprised as the two of you.”
“You have no idea,” Christy replied as she tried to pull the floor open. ”Maybe they’re closed for lunch.”
“I doubt it.” I replied. “They’re closed for the day. Did you see any more, Becky?”
“Uhh, no, but we can find a phone booth and look up the number.”

I was pissed but I didn’t let it show. I had let ‘resting bitch face’ become my natural expression but at that time my face was in a gaze of wonder. Like a wonder on how’d long we would have to search for a phone book and get back in time for another bus to arrive. We walked down the road to a local Zips, a hamburger restaurant. Wednesday thought about working at the one in Airway Heights but Paul talked her out it, stating that she didn’t have to work as long as he was around. Alex once told her to take the job anyway but she retorted that he would have to drive her to and from work so he dropped it.
The cashier let me borrow a phone book and I took it to a table on the far side of the dining room. I flipped through the pages as Christy and Becky sat on the other side. I glanced through the start of the yellow pages, past pages about adoption, as there were times I thought I was adopted or maybe stolen from my real family who gave up looking for me and instead returned to England or Ireland because I had to be from somewhere else, maybe, European. My eyes caught not he words “Child Protection” and I recalled all of the times that my parents freaked out of child protection services coming to out house for some student thing Alex and said or done. Dad once said he would blow their heads off one ever tried to step a pinky toe in house. I then thew the pages back to the A section as I had obviously forgotten the word abortion. There was one listing: Planned Parenthood of Spokane.
“Who has a quarter?” I asked.
Christy reached into her pocket, placed a quarter on the table and slid it over.
“Don’t suppose you have enough for some fries?” Becky asked.
“Nope. Got enough for bus fare, that’s about it.”
“Shit.”
I took the quarter and then phone book over to the pay phone to make the call.
“You have reached Planned Parenthood of Spokane. We are closed on Saturday and Sunday but will re-open on Monday at nine.” I hung up the phone, closed the phone book, placed it back ton the counter and walked back to the table.
“They’re closed.”
“Damn”
“Yep,” I replied with a bit of disdain.
“We’ll think of a way to get here during the week.”
“What about Paul?”
“Oh, hell no.” I responded with a sneer. “Let’s go.”
“Just a thought.”
“Alex?” Christy asked with sincerity.
“He would hang it over my head for forever.”
“Or he may kick Josh’s ass,” Beckey replied.
“It may be worth it just for that,” Christy said as they got up from the table.

We walked out of Zips to witness an STA bus drive past the bus stop in front of us, forcing us to sit and wait for another thirty minutes. It was past two o’clock by then and we still had, maybe an hour or more before we could get to Airway Heights. We had to hope that we knew someone who could take us back to Reardan without letting out parents know.

We stepped off the bus at the stop in front of Yoke’s Pac-n-Save and I immediately knew I was screwed as Wesley stood in the parking lot, looking at us. He would tell Alexis and she would scream, freak out and throw a fit; then tell mom who would also scream, frickin freak out and throw a bigger fit.
He walked over to us and my fists clenched. I was ready to tell him off.
“Where’d you go?”
“Why?”
“Alexis said you’ve been missing since yesterday.”
“I was at Christy’s,” I answered as I pointed to her.
Christy smiled and waved.

Wesley reached into his pocket, pulled out his billfold and took out a bill. “Okay, listen, here, take this ten and go to Taco Time.’
I tried to deny it but his expression told me to take it.
“Just stay over there, I’ll make a call.”
“Are you going to tell Alexis?”
“Just go. Get out of the cold.”

We walked over to Taco Time. Christy and Becky ordered food as I sat in one of the booths and wondered who Wesley was calling. My face flushed with embarrassment, guilt and overall fear. If it was my mom, I’d never hear the end of it and every one of my siblings had it in for me just enough to use this as blackmail. I had been given my proverbial last meal by someone who was taking pity on me. They brought back a tray of tacos and cups of water. Fine, I would eat and drink for in a few hours I would die a literal death by nagging.

Anti-Hero

We sat at Taco Time for what seemed like forever and wondered about what our fate would be. Would mom come with a fleet of police cars or just herself? I hoped for the police cars, as they would keep her from slapping the ever-loving crap out of me. Christy and Becky would receive the patented Linda Moone evil-eye glare several times form the rear view mirror until we reached their homes. Mom would either tell them goodnight or she wouldn’t say a word as they got out; assuming she would stop the car to even allow them to get out in one piece.

“Where the hell have you been?”
My face fell to the table as it was Alex who had arrived.
“In town,” I mumbled.
“Doing what?”
“My new job,” I said as I lifted my head off of the table, readying for the fight that was going to occur.
“Great, you can pay me back for coming to pick you up.”
“Aren’t you here to get Alexis anyway?” I asked as we got up from the booth.
“Nope. She says she has a date. I don’t want to know which girl asked her out. So, let’s get going.”

We drove most of the way back got Reardan in silence. I didn’t want to explain where I went; Christy was asleep while Becky stared out the window and, occasionally at me through the rear view mirror. Alex had smoked through two cigarettes during the trip as he kept the speedometer on the lower side of 60 miles per hour.
We dropped Becky and Christy off at their respective houses and I told each of them I’d call them later on. Alex turned out off the trailer park area and turned to head west, even though the way to our house was the east.
“Where are we going?”
“Davenport. Going to see an old friend.”
“Now?”
“Yeah.”
“What about mom?”
“Mom, who didn’t know you were staying at Christy’s now knows you’ve been at Christy’s helping her grandfather with some crappy project that you promised your best friend you’d do. You’re welcome, by the way.”
“What gives?”
“What? I can’t be nice once in a while?”
“Usually means you want something.”
Maybe I just want to be on friendly terms with my family?” Alex had another cigarette in his hand and a quasi-happy expression that I could faintly see in the street lights before we left Reardan and into the darkness of US Highway 2. Davenport was about thirteen miles away and Alex usually floored it but once again he drove with caution.

“Are you high right now?”
“Yep,”
“Sad, for a moment I thought you turned a new leaf.”
“Actually, I have. I have a new set of plants. The guy I got them from said they were grown by some surfer dude in California.”
“Are they in trunk?
“Yep.”
“Shit, Alex. You should have just left me at Christy’s.”
“No, because then I’d have to go back, stand outside, and wait for you to answer the damn door. Sorry, not doing that. We’re driving normally. No reason to pull us over.”
“The tail light is out.”
“Still not worried.”
“You said the cardiac converter was cracked.”
“Catalytic converter. It’s just the car being a little loud. Again, as long as we don’t do anything stupid, no one will pull us over.”
If I had a dollar for every time Alex said that and then he got pulled over, I could afford to buy front row tickets to see Garth Brooks.

I held my breath during the first half of the stretch to Davenport due to the cigarette smoke in the car; not about the chance of a red and blue light flashing up behind us. Then I rolled down the window in order to get some fresh air. The cold air blasted my face and it felt relaxing, even with the slight chill to my right arm. I closed my eyes and allowed the sound of the wind to drown out my inner thoughts of what I was going to do with my life or more like, to silence the bitch voice in my brain that continued to berate me. Funny thing was, it sounded a lot like Josh’s mom.

We arrived in Davenport fifteen minutes later without any signs of police lights but it wasn’t over as we still had to get wherever we were going. Alex took a few local streets and zig-zagged through town until we pulled up in from the of Davenport Medical Center, a small, regional hospital-the same one Alex had gone to years before when he burned his arm. He parked the car, got out and retrieved a backpack from the trunk. I sat in the car until he was a few feet away. He motioned for me to come with him and I decided to get out. I mean, it was a hospital. If he did something stupid and was on the verge of death, we were in the right place.
We walked into the emergency department and Alex stopped and looked around. I stood a few feet away from and wished I had a book because, knowing Alex, I had a feeling this was going to be a longer than just a simple visit. He walked to a young-looking nurse sitting at a desk at the front of the department.
“Hello, Diane.”
“Alex., how are you doing?”
“Great. I’m great.”
“Who is that? Your sister?”
“Yeah, my youngest.”
“Cherry?”
I would have to ask Alex about how much she knew about our family; right after punching him in the face.
“Nice to finally meet you.”
“Thank you.” I replied through a Oscar-winning fake smile.
“How late are you working tonight, Diane?”
“Until two.”
“They got you on the late shift?”
She nodded in replied as Alex lowered the backpack.
“Well, you left this in the car, so I thought I’d bring it back to you.”
He handed it over to her like it was normal for a seventeen year-old to hand over a backpack fill of pot to an older woman.
“Like I said, I’m off at two.”
“I’ll come back by and pick you up.”
“You better.”

Alex smiled and waved to her as he stepped back. It was a fascinating scene to watch as Alex didn’t say one sarcastic barb, no mention of any f-bombs. It was like Wesley’s mind was inside my brother’s body. It was something I could used to and if it was because of the pot, he needed to smoke more of that strain.

We left the hospital without a word until Alex pulled out of the parking lot.
“When did you meet her?”
“Who?”
“The nurse you seem to know on a first-name basis.”
“Diane?” Alex asked with a mock innocence to his voice.
“Duh.”
“She took care of my arm when it got burned back then.”
“Before or after she called you stupid for burning your arm?”
“She only said that a few months later. It’s an inside joke for us now.”
“How old is she?”
“I never ask a lady that question.”
“Does mom know?”
“Nope. Better stay that way too.”
“My lips are sealed.” I replied.
I had no reason to tattle to mom and if I did, he could throw out that I went to Spokane on my own. Of course, me going to the city and coming back in one piece was a hell of lot less than Alex pot-partying with some woman who was, maybe, twice his age or younger.

“Are you dating?”
“I would not even consider using such a non-descriptive word to describe our relationship. We;’re not dating or seeing each other. No, it’s on a more personal level.”
“Sex?”
“A gentlemen does not discuss his sex life.”
“Yet, you talk about Alexis’?”
“More like a lack thereof.”
“That’s kind of mean.”
“Remember who we’re talking about,” Alex replied as he lit a cigarette. “I didn’t fire the first shot, that was her.”
‘But you continue the war?”
“Oh, hell yeah. I am not going to lose the war. It will continue until we’re dead, or until she’s married with six kids or so.”
Alex accelerated to sixty-five miles an hour as soon as we left Davenport. Granted, the backpack was no longer there, but it was like our car had a sign on it that read “Pull me over, pig. Yeah, you, officer donut breath.” I clenched up a bit as I really didn’t want to hear the tirade that would happen once we got home with a ticket from the Lincoln County Sheriff department.

We arrived home without any issues except for Alex swerving into the on-coming lane while driving through the canyon. Tragically, he was going to be the only person in my family who would be willing to teach me how to drive and I would probably spend three to four years—behind bars—unlearned everything he taught me. There was another car in the driveway, one that I didn’t recognize but Alex did.
“Wesley. Hmm, the date must have ended early. What a shock.”
Alex killed the car and opened the door, only to close it again as Alexis ran out of the house and up to the car.

She slammed her fists on the hood.
“Hey, what did the car do to you?”
“Where is it, asshole?
“What?”
“What? What? My money, Alex!”
“What money?”
“You smoked it already, right?”
“Yeah, that's an airtight case.”
“Get out of the damn car!”
“No. Because you look like you want to kick the shit out of me.”
“I do!”
“I haven’t been in your room since, like three weeks ago when you took the Zelda game.”
“Because you play that damn thing twenty-four seven!”
Alex was sure that, one day, he could complete “A Link to the Past” in one settings with no continues.
“Well, I got the game back and so I don’t need to go to your room.”
“Where is my fifty dollars!”
“I dob’t have it, bitch! But, you know what?” Alex opened the door and took out his wallet. “ I will give you. Sixty bucks. If you. Will get. Out of my. Fucking. Face.”
He held the bills out with his ring and middle finger. Alexis took the money and Alex extended his middle finger.
“Go ask Wednesday where your money went.”
“Don’t try and blame her.”
“Oh, I will and I do,” Alex replied as he closed the door. I could see Wesley looking out the living room window.
“Fine, go on and play innocent, go on.”
“I don't care.”
“You're so apathetic and full of shit!” Alexis yelled as she stormed back to the house.
“Like I said.”

Try, Try, Try

There was screaming and cursing, mostly from Mom as she complained that no one listened to her and no one would check in.
Alex and Wednesday rebutted that they would call her at work but she wouldn’t ever answer so they would leave a message and then go do what they wanted to. When mom finally called back, no one answered the phone. I sat on the edge of my bed, hoping she would not call my name. I wished that for at that moment I was just the little kid who didn’t know any better, but she already drilled into my head that I should know better, that I should be the one to rise above my siblings by not smoking pot, not going away for days on end, not talking about how rotten my home life was, and not getting pregnant.

Shit. Could I trade that in for the pot smoking? Perhaps excessive drinking or compulsive lying?
She never called me down.. Which was good because at the moment I was ready to snap like a twig and tell her that Josh was in my room and it happened maybe a month or so ago, or maybe more…and maybe it wasn’t in my room, but maybe his or out in the woods and as her expression went from blank then surprised to either pissed or excited I’d feel like pissing my pants in fear and relief.
Alexis, didn’t come until late Sunday morning and Mom was at work. Alexis simply walked into the house like nothing happened at all, like she didn’t have to answer to anyone. Wednesday came home sometime in the morning with Paul they were both still asleep when I woke up at ten. I usually woke up earlier on Sunday for some reason. Not that we went to church as a family, I’d sometimes go with Christy since her grandmother dragged her down to the Presbyterian church in Reardan.

The kitchen was a complete and utter wreck, but there was coffee in the pot so I assumed either Alexis made it or Alex was still at home; which would be amazing since he made it habit to never be home on Sunday mornings and now I knew it was because of Diane. Maybe she was teaching him how to grow up; like a reversed “My Fair Lady”. I walked out to the laundry room and into the garage. We had parked the car inside it at one time, but then it collected car parts, tools and junk, all arranged in various waves and piles. Mom’s wood shop tools, Dad’s car parts and growing equipment that was used for a at least a year before he vanished. Alex had taken some of the heaters and moved them off to a small storage area in the garage that was hidden from view by tarps and other junk that hung from the rafters in the unfinished ceiling. There were times when I saw him near the tarps, looking at something within. I never asked nor ever tried to go in as it involved risking your hands on saw blades and other crap.

“Alex?”
“Yeah?”
“Can you take me to Reardan today?”
“We’re forced to go there tomorrow. Why would you want to go today?”

I could’ve put a scowl on my face, lean on one of the support beams and yell that I want to wallow in pity with my friends about my predicament instead of sitting in anguish in my room.
“Just to hang out with my friends.”
There were several clangs and sounds of broken pottery.
“Can I give you a maybe on that? See if Paul and Wednesday go and do whatever it is they go and do on a Sunday, you can go with them.”
I nodded to the air and walked back into the house.

I climbed the ladder back upstairs and went back to my room. If I had headphones I could blast my stereo but since I didn’t, I seldom ever turned it on because of the lack of actual walls—our rooms were separated only by wooden studs and sheets draped across them to kind of simulate Sheetrock walls, but with no sound-proofing and you could see through it if the light conditions were right. I laid back on my bed and stained at the roof, as there was no ceiling and the floors were simple plywood floors.

Mom said one day she would finish the upstairs and I had wanted to be the first to have a door so I could at least slam it when my siblings pissed me off enough. However, since just about every night I’d have to hear them going at it, I would say that completing Wednesday’s room would make everyone in the house happy. That, or having her move out and maybe stay with Paul. Mom would never let that happen but I sometimes wondered why she tolerated Paul even being at our house at all.
“I found a few of my mom's rings. I can give those to Len.”
“Lenny's going to give you how much for everything?”
“Five hundred, almost, maybe more. Depends.”
“I guess I can get a job too.”
“I’ll worry about the money. You just keep looking at the magazines.”
“Do you like this design?”

Their bed creaked with a loud groan, one that I hoped would not continue into something else. It wouldn’t matter if I screamed for them to stop because I could clearly hear them. Luckily, a set of footprints hit the floor.
“I’m going to take a shower.” Paul said.
“I’ll join you a minute or two.”
“I like the sound of that.”

I almost wanted to throw up. It was bad enough that I always had to hear the sound of a squeaky bed at night and in the middle of the freaking day; their non-stop talk about wedding preparations, dresses, and moving to somewhere; but now I that mental image etched into my brain too. I once asked Alexis what she did to avoid hearing them, she replied with showing me a pair of headphones and a novel she was reading. She was on the other side of the attic and I was closer to them.

I didn’t ask them take me into town as I felt I’d have to explain why I wanted to go and I had high doubts they would come home at a decent hour—or if ever—and I would be late for school in the morning. I laid back down in bed and stared at the rafters. I thought long and hard about what had to be done. Who I would have to tell and how. I had to tell Josh. Not because I thought it would bring him back to me. No, that wasn’t going to happen. I thought it might have over a week ago after we had an argument over the stupidest shit imaginable. So stupid that I couldn’t even recall what I said. Maybe I called him a jerk or an ass and he just had all he could take of it.

Maybe it was because he was commenting on the size of my breasts.
Yeah, that actually was it.
We were looking at one of Wednesday’s bridal magazines when he pointed out the tits on one of the models just came right out of the wedding dress and I slapped his arm.
“You’re looking at the dress totally wrong.”
“I’m looking at like the photographer is and they’re like right there, daring him to grab them.”
“It’s a sexy dress, she should be able to wear it without someone wanting to stare or juggle them.”
“I’d juggle them,” Josh replied with a grin and so I slapped him again.
“Cut that shit out.”
“This isn’t a porno magazine.”
“It might as well be. That chick’s like one, she’s just wearing an expensive dress.” Yeah, I guess that was true. Maybe I never looked at it like that, but each page had some model that had a lot of cleavage. It kind of made me wonder who the magazine was really for and if Paul felt the same when looking at it with Wednesday. “And they look nice.”
I closed the magazine. “Seriously?”
“Hey, you made me look at them.”
“I didn’t make you do anything. You just had to point out—”
“—That she has bigger ones than you?”

I wanted to punch him but instead I walked out of the living room and out the front door. I walked down the street in my socks and I kind of expected him to come after me. Maybe to apologize. Maybe to hear me berate due to now hurt I felt. I must have walked a mile before I stopped and turned around.
Josh wasn’t behind me.

He wasn’t even half a mile away as Little Falls Road was kind of flat until one got to the turn to head to Wellpinit, so I could still see my house from there and he wasn’t in the driveway. I stamped my foot and regretted it as I slammed my heel on a rock. I wanted to pick up a large rocky take it back home and slam him in the face with it but I didn’t go home. Instead, I continued walking until I came to the first dirt road and then turned onto it.
I sat a ways from the road, next to a fence post, and waited, once again, for Josh to walk up. He would come up with his head and hair hanging down and he would say he apologized for being a dick and comparing me to some airbrushed photograph.
But he never came. I stayed away from home for over two hours and he never came. Instead, his dad came to pick him up less than thirty minutes after I left the house. He took the magazine with him.

“Where did you go?” Alexis asked from the kitchen counter. She was perched on the corner near the window. “No, it’s my little sister. She just walked in the house.”
“Walking.”
“Josh left.”
“Good,” I replied, “I hope they have a wreck.”

Alexis rolled her eyes and returned to whoever she was talking to as I walked into the living room and up to my room where I immediately started slashing at pictures and ripping up notes. I would have to tell Josh that that poem, that song he wrote for me? That I think it was copied form someone who was far-more talented than he would ever be! I would have burned it all in my room but there were so many notes. So many intricately-folded missives we wrote to each other that I would burn the house down in the process of trying to gain inner peace through fire.

Mom came home after six o’clock; followed by Alex and then Wednesday and Paul made an appearance by walking into the kitchen and grabbing the remaining hamburgers that were in the oven. Mom sat in the living room with her plate, coffee cup and ash tray on the coffee table. I sat on the opposite side of the couch and Alexis sat in a chair she brought in from the kitchen.

“Hello, family.” Wednesday shouted as Paul held onto two plates. Alex tried to sneak by but Wednesday stopped him.
“Hey, no wait, Alex. We have an announcement.”
A part of me hoped she would say she was pregnant. Maybe then I would also be accepted, or at least tolerated when I revealed my news.
Everyone, except for Alex, looked at Wednesday.
“We. Are. Engaged.”
She flashed a large ring at everyone.
Alexis leaned forward to see it.
Mom looked like a semi had slammed into her, head-on, while she was naked.
Alex took a glance and continued walking to his room.
I had to wonder what store Paul stole it from.
” You’re what?” Mom asked. I wasn’t sure if it was from shock, annoyance or just nerves. “When?”
Wednesday and Paul looked at each other and laughed. “We don’t know.”
Alexis stood up and walked into the kitchen as Mom got up and walked over to Wednesday.
“Do you have any idea what you’re getting into?” Mom asked as I continued to watch Alexis’ face contort and twitch so much she was ether having a seizure or a heart attack. She grabbed a dish in the sink and made a motion to smash it against the counter but stopped. She turned away from me and placed her hands on the wall.
“Marriage can be hell, you know that, right?”
The tiny voice in my head nudged me to walk over to her and ask if she was alright, or to maybe tell her everything was going to be okay.
“We know, mom, but we’re ready to make the best of every bad situation and we’ve had a lot of practice, right Paul?”
Alexis spun away with a smile on her face. I had seen that smile before…it was not a friendly smile. It was a ‘I’m going to kick someone’s ass’ smile. I would have preferred to see Alexis crying or her RBF than that expression.
She walked past me and back into the living room.
“Congratulations, to both of you,” Alexis said as hugged both Wednesday and Paul. “You’re about to take a great adventure.”

I admit, I was still waiting for Wednesday to say she was pregnant too.

I woke up on Monday feeling sick to my stomach.
Just like that…the revelation last week, the fifteen million thoughts going through my mind about what I was going to do and then that occurred. Since I hadn’t eaten much the night before it was mostly dry-heaving and even though I felt hungry, the thought of eating anything started the process all over again. I got dressed for school and tried to make myself as presentable as I wanted to for a Monday. Surprisingly, Alexis and Alex were in the kitchen waiting for me. We all nodded to each other and walked out of the house. Paul’s car was in the driveway so it was safe to assume Wednesday wasn’t riding with us.
Alexis got in the back seat of the car without arguing with Alex or throwing any glares at me.
I climbed in as Alex threw the remains of his cigarette on the ground. He then got behind the wheel and started the car.
I wanted to ask what the occasion was or if someone had switched bodies with my siblings.
“Cherr,” Alexis said from the backseat. She didn’t have her make-up case out or anything and she actually looked at me when I turned back to her. “We need to talk. The three of us.”
“Yeah,” Alex said as he pulled the car out onto the road and casually drove away from the house. It wasn’t the standard slam the accelerator down and into fifth gear in ten seconds, but a gradual acceleration.
“About what?”
“Are you missing any of your stuff?” Alexis asked.
“No, not that I know of.”
“No earrings, necklaces or, maybe, money?”
“Especially money,” Alex replied.
“No.”
“We think Wednesday and Paul are robbing Mom and us blind. I’m missing money.”
“Mom’s tools are missing and someone tried to break into the locker.” The locker was Alex’s name for the growing room in the garage.
“You think it was Wednesday.”
“I know Paul’s responsible. I’m sure Wednesday’s a part of it too,” Alexis replied.
I looked at the two of them and tried to think of things that were missing or misplaced but I couldn’t. I didn’t have anything worth stealing and I assumed that Alex had “borrowed without asking” on several occasions.
“The happy-go-lucky announcement last night was the thing that broke it for me, or us.” Alexis said and Alex nodded. “They’re planning something. Maybe some big wedding or maybe they’re going to elope but Mom’s blind to it. We, the three us, need to help her see the shit that’s going on.”
“This stays with the three of us, right Cherr?”
“Yeah. Yes, of course,” I replied with sincerity as there was no way in Hell I would attempt to just tell Mom, Wednesday or Paul because of the repercussions that would happen from any of them if I said anything.
“I found a pawn ticket for Mom’s drill hammer.”
“Shit, that too?”
“Hmm-mm. They only got like fifty bucks for it. It wasn’t in their name. It was in Tom’s. I’m going kill that son of bitch one day.”

I wanted to kind of feel happy for Wednesday. I mean, happy days had been few and far between for our family. If mom bought anything else besides hash browns and ramen?
Happy day.
Two-ply toilet paper?
Happier day.
Not leaving a towering stack of cigarette butts on an ashtray in the middle of the living room?
Please cue the choir of angels.

So, I wanted to feel for her happiness but I couldn’t. Not when I felt like shit and not when she was indirectly making the rest of us feel shitty too. Wednesday could float and float around the house and school like she was a Disney princess but we all knew her price charming stole the ideas, and the ring, and shoes from: the rest of us.
Alex shook his head and lit another cigarette. “I’m going to quit smoking tobacco one day.”
“Just tobacco?” Alexis asked,
“Yep. Pot doesn’t cause the crud to build in your lungs.”
“But fogs up your brain.”
“It’s worked for Jimmy Hendrix, all of the Beatles, Jerry Garcia.”
“You don’t play guitar.” Alexis replied as she rolled down the window.
“I know, But they all had a business side to their music. Business, Alexis; that’s where it goes.”
“You’ll smoke your product before you make any money whatsoever.”
“Beats stealing from the the ones who need it the most.”
Alex refused to hide any bitterness about the situation
“Instead, sell it to the ones who need it the least?” Apparently, Alexis never noticed how some of the kids at Reardan had money for cigarettes, dip and beer. What was one more drug?
“I will have you know that the folks on the north side of town, the ones who live in the two-story houses.”
“We live in a two-story house, Alex.”
“We live in a shack, not a mansion.”
“I feel sad for any girl who ever played “MASH” with you.”

We arrived at the school and I got out of the car and walked up to the grade school. Becky and Christy met me halfway.
“You look like shit,” Becky said.
“I feel like it. Too much drama at home.”
“And now you’re here for more,” Christy replied as she took my backpack.
“I bet Christy that you’re going to be pissed.”
“She didn’t bet me,”
“I wanted to,” Becky replied.
“What are you talking about?”
“Another low point for Josh Daniels.”
“What?”
Christy held the door open for me as I stepped past her and Becky.
I ran down the hall and turned the corner into the junior high wing and found my locker opened with everything covered in red paint.
“What the hell?” I whispered to myself. “Why?”
“I was going to borrow a pen and when I opened the door, this all came out.”
“What’s going on here?” We all froze as we heard Mrs. J’s voice behind us. She looked at the three of us and then at the red paint inside my locker. “What is this?”
“I just got here, Mrs. J, I have no idea. But look, my books are ruined. So are my pencils and papers.”
Mrs. J’s expression went from annoyed to pained as she must havre read my face that I was just as surprised as she was. She reached in and touched the paint, which was still fresh.
“Josh?” Christy asked.
“He would never admit to it if it was him.”
“Can I go kick his ass?”
“That’s enough, Miss Petty.” Mrs. J said as she looked at me. “Cherry, let’s go to the office and let them know that we need to have your locker cleaned out.”
“We’ll stay here and guard it, Mrs. J.” Becky replied, I assumed to try and get on her good side after her proficient use of French.
I walked down the hall with Mrs. J and for some reason I thought I was the one being punished. In away I was, as everyone saw my locker. I would have red-tinted everything until the end of the school year. All of my papers would look like I had stained them in blood…actually that would have been kind of cool if the school allowed me to keep everything. Instead, all of the crimson soaked items were thrown out of my locker and into a cardboard box layered with paper towels.
I spent the rest of the morning feeling more pissed than I ever thought I could have. The restless thought of not knowing who did it. Sure, in the court of mfo Josh did it and I could confront him about it but it wouldn’t get me anywhere so I said nothing to him as we sat at our walled-in desks. I stared at the desk wall and fought the urge to get up and tell Josh everything I thought about him. How I hated him with so much piss and and anger that I wanted to rip him to pieces because I was pregnant by him!
“Heard about your locker,” he said form the other side of the desk partition.
“Yeah, like you had nothing to do with it.”
“I swear I didn’t.”
“Yeah, right.”
“Believe what you want to.”
“I will”, I replied.
“I guess we shouldn’t even talk.”
“I guess not, “ I said as I folded my arms and laid my head on my desk. My pulse quickened and I wanted to blurt everything out but I refused because he would deny it and then twist my words around to any brainless idiot who would listen and believe his crock of shit story about me. It would be just like if we were back in sixth grade except with dirtier vocabularies. I was fine with not telling him anything about us or anything to do with my life. I didn’t need him in our lives.
After lunchtime detention I went on to my fifth period class and just stuck to doing my classwork; an idea that would have been great to have started doing weeks ago instead of thinking of other things. I used to imagine that I didn’t really need school and on some days I would have just said screw it, I’m staying in bed or going out to party like Wednesday always did and everything seemed to work out fine for her in world. She didn’t have someone dredge her locker in paint. She didn’t have fears that people would talk about her. My sister didn’t care about anything except for herself and Paul.
I really wanted to think like that too but I would have to stop caring about everyone around me and just live in a bubble. I couldn’t do that because for as much sadness and shit rained on me on a daily basis I kind of knew that dancing out in that cesspool downpour would help me to cope with the future. Junior high sucked but I learned enough form my parents to know that the adult world sucked royally and there were no teachers out there to try and help you. And at the moment, I felt like I needed to talk to someone who could give me a straight answer.

I ran to the high school in order to make it to Home Ed so I could, maybe, try to talk to Mrs. Jantz about everything. She was removed enough from the teachers in the junior high that I thought I wouldn’t have to worry about her talking to the other teachers but a voice stopped me: Mom.
“Why can't I have a week go by without you doing something that pisses me off!”
Mom stepped out of the office doorway and I ducked behind the Pepsi machine that was off to the left side of the hallway. I hoped that she had parked up front.
“Paul is a fucking thief, mom. Too bad you can't see that.”
“So you have to go and break his nose? Smart, Alex. Really smart!”
“Well he is.”
“Can you prove that?”
“You’re missing two saws from the garage; money and other shit’s missing. Do you want me to dust for fingerprints?”
“No, I want you to give me your keys.”
“What?”
“Your car keys. Hand them over, Alexander Wayne Moone.
Alex usually had a keychain full of keys that no one else knew what they went to. One of them was to his growing room.
“How the fuck do I get home then?”
“Ride the damn bus.” Mom’s voice tailed-off. “Get back to class.” She had performed the Linda Moone Order: what she said went. No discussion, because she would then walk away from you.,
At that time, then high school bell, signaling the end of sixth period, rang out.
I stepped out from behind the Pepsi machine and ran to Alex. His face was bruised but if he was in a fight, it looks like he may have won.
“Some guy named Lenny,” I saiid as I felt all of the blood rising to my head.
“Who?”
“They took our stuff to some guy named Lenny, they got like, maybe five hundred dollars.”
“Son of bitch. They said Lenny?”
“Who’s Lenny?”
“A lowlife. I’ll go and pay him a little visit this afternoon.”
“Didn't mom take your keys?”
Alex reached into his jeans pocket and pulled out a keychain. “She took a key.”

XIV Behold! The Nightmare

I didn’t get to class before everyone else had arrived and as much as I wanted to raise my hand and go out into the hall with Mrs Jantz I refused to let anyone else, especially Josh, question why I willingly stepped out into the hallway to take to a teacher. Maybe I should have stayed after school, but if I had then I would have had to walk home or get a ride form mom; who probably would’ve have yelled the entire trip home or she would have driven as if she had a death wish. The “oh shit” handle was a Godsend with Alex’s driving skills but when Mom was driving while angry, you had both hands on it as if you’re life depended on it.
I walked out of the school with Christy and Becky at my side. Nothing was said between the three of us until we were past the old greenhouse.
“I haven’t heard anything about the paint.” Becky whispered.
“Doesn’t matter,” I replied as I swung my just about empty bag. There were no extra English or Social Studies books so I was given photocopies. “No, it does matter, but I have no way in hell in finding out.
“I tried to get Chad to tell me. Don’t ask me how far I went.”
“Seriously?” Christy asked anyway.
Becky just nodded.
I didn’t want to ask. I just wanted to get away from the school, go home, lay in bed and hoped that I wouldn’t have to repeat it all the next day.
We walked towards the high school and I could see Alex standing where the car would have been parked, it was gone.
Mom had taken Alex’s keys and it looked like the car too.
Alexis was sitting on the grass, reading a book.
“She actually took it. But where did she park hers?” Alex said as he walked down the sidewalk in front of the school.
“Do we need to take the bus?” I asked as Becky ran across the street to smoke.
Christy looked at me and I shrugged my shoulders.
“I’m not going to,” Alexis replied without looking up from her novel. “Fell free to what you want to”
“We need to write this day down,” Alex said as he walked back to us. “The day mom actually followed through on something. This fucks me strunny.”
I wanted to scream and then cry a river or two. My emotions were out of whack and I felt like breaking down right then.
“I found it! Becky yelled from across the street.
“What?” Alex shouted back.
“It’s at Josh’s!” Becky pointed down the road.
The three of us walked down the sidewalk to get a better view of Jos’s house. Sure enough, the Honda sat on the side of the road next to Josh’s house.
“Fuck!” Alex yelled. “That means the angry asshole giant knows eveything,” and then threw up his arms in surrender. Alex didn’t like dealing with John or Leah or anyone with the last name of Daniels. But it was John that got on his nerves as he would consistently tell Alex how he needed to step up and help take care of things since our dad was gone. Alex agreed the first time but the second time John said it, Alex just nodded his head and John yelled at him about disrespect or something. If mom did indeed say anything, then John would hold it over his head and berate Alex like he didn’t do his own kids, or at least not to the degree I wished he would.
“Okay, we need a distraction. I can then get the car, and pick you guys up later.”
“Whatever, Alex.”
“Hey, we need to deal with Wednesday and Paul, right? Cain we at least attempt to keep a united front for a day?”
Alexis shook her head as Christy waved “bye” to me.
If I had it my way, Alex and Alexis would deck Josh, somehow incapacitate a six-foot five man and I would have the car ready to go in the process.
Alas…
“You didn’t take the bus home?” Leah asked—her gaze was just a little spiteful towards Alex.
“We didn’t know what had happened until the buses left,” Alexis replied.
“It’s okay, dear,” Leah replied as she gave Alexis a small hug.
Alex stayed on the porch and looked towards the road. Probably because if he turned to face Leah he would have told her off, which would signal John to come out of wherever he was and the screaming would escalate until they either got into a fight—it was bound to happen one day—or until the neighbors called the police—that had happened before.
Leah turned her attention to me“Cherry.”
“Hello.”
“Why haven’t you been over lately?”
“Just been a little busy,” I replied.
“Did Josh do something stupid?
I was speechless for a moment. I mean, did she want the whole truth or just enough to get the point across that I would rather see Josh’s head on a pike, coated with honey and fire ants than see him any other more than I had to?
“No, ma’am,” I replied as I admit I was afraid of her. Apparently only Mom and Alexis were imminent to her stares and expertly worded putdowns
“You tell me if he’s done anything at all. I love him, but sometimes I want to murder him.
I felt the same way at killing him at that moment.
I had a hard time believing that she never noticed Chastille at her house. Maybe she did but held out some hope that Josh would come back to his senses and crawl back to me—her dreams, not mine. Well, not quite, I had fleeting dreams, kind of a sprinting hope that one day we could put all of the junior high shit behind us and grow up. I already felt like I was in my twenties by the things I had to do at home. Tragically, Josh could stay a little boy with his mommy and daddy there to take him in and not ask him to live up to a higher standard.

“Hey there, Moonies!” John yelled as he walked into the living room from the kitchen. Alexis and I waved “hello.” Alex didn’t respond and that didn’t set well with John.
“Alexander. Your mom brought your car by.”
“I noticed, John.” Alex replied without looking to the house.
“Turn around when someone’s talking to you.”
“I can hear you just fine,” Alex replied.
“I said, turn around!” John shouted from across the small living room. I took a few steps back as Alexis and Leah sat down on the couch, uncaring of the grudge match that was going to happen.
John stood right behind Alex, his frame completely blocking my brother out of existence.
“Are you going to turn around?
“Nope,” Alex answered without any care.
“Your mom said you got into a fight today.”
“And I’ll get into more, I’m sure.”
“You got a shitty attitude, Alexander.”
“I know. It runs in the family.
“She’s going to come by after work, you can take the car then.
“When is that?”
“After ten.”
“Shit,” I whispered to no one but both Leah and John looked at me like I killed their dog or maybe had told their son to go to Hell.
John turned back to Alex. “You’re attitude’s going to get you in trouble.”
“I hope so,” Alex said as he finally turned around to face John.
“Why?”
“Someone has to fill the role of asshole. I will wear that badge with the highest honor.”

The kitchen door opened and I turned to see Josh walk-in with Chastille at his side and holding his hand.
I wanted to do a few things at that time:
I wanted to have us mend that bridge between us-even though I knew he would never meet me halfway, especially in front of his parents and Chastille.
I wanted to tell him what had happened, which would cause Leah to scream and for John’s face to turn red and contort.
I wanted to beat his face in and the only thing stopping me at that moment, since I was the closet to him at the time, was Leah.
“Josh, who is this?” She asked him with a subtle curiosity mixed with with contempt.
“Mom, this is Chastille,” Josh replied as he squeezed Chastille’s hand.
I tried to look every other way except at the three of them.
“Hello, Mrs. Daniels,” Chastille said with a bright grin.
“Hello, Chas-steel, right?” Leah asked as John walked past use and into the kitchen.
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Welcome. Josh, can I talk to you?”
Josh rolled his eyes as Leah got up and they walked out of the living room and down the small hall off to the side that lead to the master bedroom.
There was a slight silence in the room with the only sounds being John doing something in the kitchen; Alexis turning a page in her book, a car or two passing on the highway and my now heavy breathing.
Alex turned around and his eyes met up with Chastille.
She gave a small wave in his direction. Alex responded with a double wave.

“Joshua Elijah Daniels!” Leah’s voice echoed through the walls and everyone brushed it off, except for Chastille who flinched and looked at the wall as if Leah was about to crash though it like The Terminator.
“Everyone good for hotdogs?” John called out from the kitchen.
“Do you need any help, John?” Alexis asked as she got up from the couch and walked into the kitchen.
“Thank you, Alexis.”
Alex walked inside the house and closed the door. He closed his eyes and muttered something under his breath, a something that no one else but mom could hear, even though she was over thirty miles away.

Josh came back into the living room, followed by Leah. He walked past me and stood next to Chastille.
“You got the dogs boiling, honey?” Leah asked as she walked
“Yes, dear. Alexis is helping.”
I wanted to get out of the house—not only because I couldn’t stand to be next to Josh, knowing that he probably said something about me to his mother, which she did yell at him for saying, but she yelled at him a lot so, nothing new there—but because the smell of boiling hot dogs somehow made me feel nauseous .
“Dinner’s ready!” John yelled, and with that there was the sound of pounding feet as Josh’s brothers ran down the steps and flooded into the kitchen. Josh went in as well with Chastille. I stayed in the living room and looked at Alex as he stood on the patio. I wanted to walk over to him, not to talk, but to just get out.
“Cherry!” Leah shouted from the kitchen.
“Yes?”
“I have a plate for you.”
“Thank you.”
The last time I had told Leah that I wasn’t hungry she sat me down for twenty minutes about health eating and how when she was younger they had like, only rice, lentils and damn sawdust to eat so I was lucky that there were people out there looking out for me. I took that as a slight jab at my parents’ “fend yourself, your hands work” policy at cooking.
Leah sat a plate at the table and pointed for me to come and sit down. I nodded and sat down, only to have Josh sit next to me, with Chastille on his other side. We looked like guests at a Jerry Springer dinner party.

“Sorry to hear about your locker, Cherry” Josh said and then he took a bite of his hotdog.
“Really? Nice of you says that, now.”
“What does that mean?”
“Short memory from lunch?
“Maybe.”
“Not the only thing that’s short,” I muttered.
“Fuck you!” Josh yelled.
“Joshua!” Leah shouted.
“You mean you wish you still could!” I yelled.
Leah then turned her attention to me. “Cherry!”

I shoved my plate off the table, onto the floor. I then ran out the front door and into Alex’s car. I locked the doors and laid against the window on the driver’s side, in some way to avoid being seen. I hoped that no one would come to look for me and since the only person in there who might have cared was Chastille—since she was an outsider to the group. I didn’t want to talk to her anymore than I wanted to talk to any of them. If there was a way to willingly end my life at that moment, I would have traded my soul to do it.

I closed my eyes, only to open them when I heard someone unlock the door.
“Shit!” I yelled in my head as I thought it was John, but instead it was Alex.
“Could you unlock the door?”
I sat up and looked around to see anyone else was watching us, before I reached over and unlocked the driver’s side door.
“What do you want?” I asked as Alex opened the door.
“Nothing really, I just told everyone I’d go and talk to you.”
“Everyone pissed?”
“Not as much as you seem to be,” he replied as he closed the door. “Want to talk about it?”
“Nope,” I replied as I flung myself back across the backseat.
“Fine with me,” Alex replied as I heard the dangling of keys. “However, we need to appear like we’re having some kind of conversation or intervention. I guess you and Josh are on the train to Splitsville?”
“Train to Shitsville is more like it.”
“All aboard,” Alex said as he released the parking brake, pushed his foot on the clutch and started the car.
“Alex, what the Hell?”
“That was a great distraction, Cherry. I love it when a plan comes together.”
Alex gunned the engine and rocketed towards the high school, turned sharply to the right and blew through two stop signs. I sat up and looked behind us, wondering if John’s car, or just John, running, would appear in pursuit.
“Mom’s going shit a brick.”
“I know, right?”

Rotten Apples

Alex raced home faster than I had ever driven with him. I had to assume he either practiced this run several times or he was damn sure lucky as the car weaved over the center line on every turn. It was dark so he could see the lights of some of the oncoming cars, but what about the people—like Alex—who never bothered to tun on their headlights until the way bitter end. If I had a guardian angel, he was either very good at his job or he was setting me up for something even worse.
We arrived at the house just as Wednesday and Paul were walking out the side door. Paul had something large in his hands.
“Mom’s miter saw,” Alex said through clenched teeth as he turned the car off. “Stay in the car, Cherry!”
I didn’t listen as I climbed out the passenger side.
“What the hell are you doing?”
“He can come here whenever he wants.” Wednesday calmly replied, as if she had the whole scene rehearsed.
“The saw, Wednesday!”
“We’e borrowing it.”
“You’re borrowing mom’s touch it and I fucking kill you, saw?”
“She said it was okay.”
Alex laughed, in a high pitch manner, which was sign that he was really pissed off. “Dry that out and you could fertilize all of Lincoln County!”
Paul tried to move by, as the saw appeared to be heavy and he wanted to get it in the car.
“We’re not done, Nelson,” Alex said as he motioned for Paul to put the saw down.
“Not dealing with you right now, Alex.”
“No, I think you are, right now. Put my mom’s shit down!”
“What do you care, Alex?”
“Because it’s not yours to take! Do we need to chain down everything in the house? Oh wait, you pawned the house by now, right?”
Wednesday got in Alex’s face, but she still had to look up at him. “Get. Out.Of. Our. Way.”

“Make me. Nightmare,” Alex replied, Wednesday’s middle name was “Dream” but Alex, if calling Wednesday by her full name, would refer to a bad dream. He once, in front of Paul, used the term “nocturnal emission”. I had no idea what he meant at the time. Sometimes, I wish I still didn’t.
“If you don’t move!”
“Then what? You’ll sic him on me? Have you been demoted to the rank of Chihuahua, there, Pauley boy?’
I turned to look to the road and saw a car driving up. It was John’s car.
Wednesday took a step to the side and Alex matched with her. I jogged past the three of them
“Shits about to hit!” I yelled as I ran into the house and up the ladder to the upstairs. If only there was a way to pull he ladder up as anyone would only have to climb up and then walk through the white sheets that separated my bedroom from the rest of the upstairs; only Alex and mom had doors to their rooms.
I sat in the corner of my room, not wanting to hear the yelling that would eventually occur, and it did.
“What the hell were you thinking!” John’s voice reverted through the floor.
“Getting away from you. Apparently I can’t do that at my own home!” Alex yelled.
“Where’s Cherry?” Leah asked.
Damn, had he brought the whole Daniels clan?
“Do you have a warrant?”
“What is you problem, son?” John growled
“I’m looking at four of them!”
Wednesday and Paul must have been in the room with them.
“The only person who has a problem is you, Alex.”
“No, John, the problems are the four of you! Wednesday and Paul are robbing the damn house of anything that isn’t nailed down! You and Leah seem to think you’re my surrogate parents! Sorry, I have two parents, even if one is gone from my life and the other is almost never home, she can tell me what to do. Not you!”
“She told you to take the bus, genius!” John screamed.

“And what about everyone else?”
“Since when did you care about anyone but you?” Wednesday asked.
“Quiet!” Leah yelled. I couldn’t imagine Wednesday taking that well.”
“Why don’t you two talk to Bonnie and Clyde here? I brought the car home. They’re taking things.”
“Mom said we could.”
“Sell her tools?”
“Yes!” Wednesday screeched. “The ones that are fucking old and rusty!”
“Like your bed springs!” Alex said.
“Fuck you!” Paul growled.
That was it, I thought, a fight would start and it would take over an hour before the Lincoln County Sheriff department ever arrived. I got off of the floor and walked to the ladder, waiting for the shoving and breaking of shit to occur.

“Sit down, all of you! Linda is on her way home. We’ll get to the bottom of all this.”
Leah walked to the ladder area, looked up and saw me standing at the top. “Cherry, come down here, now.”
I wanted to tell her to go to Hell, but since we were already there I only sighed and climbed down.

The tension was high in the living room. Normally, a fight like this would go on for a few minutes with maybe some hair pulling or a shove to the ground, if it was between my sisters. Alex would yell a few choice words and then retreat to either his room, the locker, or he’d take the car somewhere—anywhere to avoid hearing us bicker. It would subside after some time and then everyone would be back to talking to each other. We would remember what was said though and would bring it up again another time.
This wasn’t one of those times as the Daniels had us all crammed on the couch. Leah sat at the kitchen table and John stood guard—literally, as he kind of paced back and forth. All he needed was a rifle.

I wanted to ask why I had to sit at on the couch line-up. I only wanted to get away from Josh, not get involved in a jailbreak—only to end up a prisoner in my own home. I closed my eyes and tried to stir my inner bitch like I had done a little over an hour earlier. If I could get Josh on the phone and hear his voice, then it could come out and show everyone in the room that I didn’t do jack shit and that Leah should just left me alone in my room. I was a hostage when Alex took the car, a hostile witness to the what Wednesday and Paul were doing, and guilty of being a Moone to John and Leah.

We sat on the couch, Alex, ,myself, Wednesday and Paul with each of us showing our anger or boredom in different ways. Paul must have stayed only because of Wednesday, as he could probably care less about what John said and, if Wednesday gave the order, they probably would have marched right out of there. Wednesday didn’t want Alex to say anything to Mom about the what occurred without having a say in it. Alex had taken the car against Mon’s orders; and, again, why the Hell was I sitting there?

Mom’s car pulled in an hour later. Either she had gotten off of work early or she had driven faster than Alex to get back home. The kitchen door opened and closed with a light slam. It didn’t vibrate the glass in the kitchen windows and it didn’t reverb through the house, but we knew what was going to happen. Mom stood in the arch between the kitchen and the living room and stared at the four us. This was actually worse than yelling. She would look at all of us but we would all see a different form of that everlasting gaze. A glance that spoke millions of words, most of them the four-letter variety. Mom took a breathe and then looked at Leah.

“What happened?” She said with a loud sigh.
Leah and John laid out everything, in their words, and Alex was left slack-jawed as they left out anything that occurred between him, Wednesday and Paul. They also said I was in the car, waiting for Alex.
“That’s bullshit!” I yelled. “I was just sitting in the car. I didn’t know he was going to come out and drive away!”

The three adults looked at me for a second and then back to talking amongst themselves. Mom stood in one place and nodded every once in a while as John and Leah talked. She took out a pack of cigarettes and a lighter as she stripped off her purse and coat, allowing them to just drop to the living room floor.

Wednesday and Paul didn’t say a word until Mom asked a question. “Did you take me tools?
“The old ones, Mom,” Wednesday said. “The ones your said didn’t work and were cluttering up the garage and we should get rid of anyway.”
“The miter saw is not old.” Alex spoke up. “And neither is Alexis’ money.”
“Are you accusing me of stealing?”
“Accused? You’re guilty as sin..”
“Oh, my I repent of my sins before you, Father?”
Mom rolled her eyes.

“They’ve been stealing our stuff!” Alex said as he got up front he couch. If his attempt was to keep a cool head and keep everything civil, he failed.
“Sit down, Alex,” Mom growled.
“No, because you need to listen to what I’m saying.”
“Like you listened about the car?”
“The car is here. Not like I hocked it. Should I give them a set of keys and the title?”
Alex has everyone’s attention.
John looked like he wanted to punch him.
Leah’s expression was of contempt.
Wednesday’s face was contorted in a mix of rage.
Paul tried to look away from everything.
Mom was just pissed—it showed through her blank expression.
“I gave Wednesday permission to go through the garage and get rid of stuff we don’t need anymore. The miter saw was not a part of that deal but it was there. What has been taken so far, Wednesday?”
“Besides Alexis’ twenty bucks?” Alex asked.
“Am I talking to you? No! So sit your ass down, Alex!”
I really wanted to get out of there.

“Mom, don’t you see what’s going on?”
“I see a kid who’s about to get slapped. I also see him getting the damn car taken away and if I have to remove a few spark plugs to get my point across I will!”
Alex stammered for a moment and then stomped from the living room and into his room. He didn’t slam the door but he did lock it. Not that the lock did any good. A click flick of an ice pick or a flathead screwdriver and it could be unlocked anyway.
“Cherry, you can go.”
I didn’t say another word but ran to the ladder and went upstairs to my room.

My mind raced with every single though imaginable as I laid on my bed. I was sure Alex wasn’t lying about the money and Wednesday had been stealing things but maybe Mom did give her permission for some of the stuff. Maybe she would let me sell a few things to raise money to see a doctor to deal with my issue. I mean Alex could get in trouble at school and with every adult he knew then surely Mom would look at my condition and approve of it. Since Alexis could just forget about living with the family like she talked with Wes, then Mom could see that I wasn’t trying to leave, but trying to not bring anyone new into the house. I wanted to tell her what happened, but I didn’t want to talk to her with the Daniels’ still there, even though it would have been something to see their expressions.

No, because maybe Leah would go all crazy about being a grandmother and force me to get back with Josh on their terms and not mine. She would cite some rule that I was too young to understand and I would counter that I was old enough to have sex. It would probably breakdown into a screaming match between Leah and me so it was best to keep her and the rest of her family out of the discussion. I already had enough shit to deal with.

It had been a while since I took the bus, so much so that I forgot how much I loved to hate it. Our bus was not packed tight, but the trip was long and it was too dark to read, too bumpy to do homework and too loud to try and sleep. The best you could do was put your jacket or a flannel against the windows and lean your head on it so when the bus struck every. Single. Damn. Hole in the road you wouldn’t jackhammer your brain.
Alex scrunched himself in a seat by himself and closed his eyes. I was not as lucky, as I had to sit next to a sixth grader who kept talking about things to the other kids around him. Wednesday left with Paul, of course. Would they eventually get to school, that was the billion dollar question. Since Alexis spent the night at the Daniels’ house, she missed out on the fun. Lucky her.
An hour later the bus pulled up on the side of the old gym and I stepped off the bus without anything—since I left my bag at the Daniels’ and they didn’t seem to think about bringing it to me when they made the decision to drive like Hell to our house. No big loss.
“Cherry!”
Christy stood on the sidewalk with my bag in her hands.
“How did you get that?”
“Would you believe Chastille?”
“No kidding.” I said as Christy handed my bag over to me.
“I heard Alex pulled a gun.”
“Heard it from who?” I asked as I opened my bag to see it had all of the photocopies from the day before, a pen and a pencil.
“Becky. And she heard it from Chad.”
“That never happened.”
“So, he didn’t hold John at gunpoint?”
“No, I’m sure he thought about it. I kind of did too.”
“We better find Becky before the story makes it to the high school.”
“Bet it was Josh. Asshole.”
“I guess you haven’t told him yet?”
“I thought about it,” I said as we started walking. “I also thought that Leah and John would treat me like a prisoner or they would blame it all on me.”
“Oh,” Christy replied as she looked ahead.
“Something else?” I asked as I sensed she wanted to say more.
“You may change your mind the further you go.”
“Maybe, well ,yeah. I keep changing my mind from shouting it to everyone to not saying anything at all.”
“What do you think he’d say?”
“I want to think he’d help me or at least want to be around. If he doesn’t, then high school’s going to really suck. God, I can’t believe I’m saying that. See? Every other second I think I want to talk to Josh or kill him ”
“We need to invite Jerry Springer to Reardan.”
“Dibs on Steve,” I replied as we walked into the school near the cafeteria.
Becky met us halfway down the hall.
“Was it a revolver or a shotgun?”
“Laser guns, Becky! Big, fucking, laser guns!” I yelled, which got the attention of a few of grade schoolers.
“Well, with Alex you never know.” Becky said with a shrug.
I agreed with her. Ever since Dad vanished, Alex’s moods swung from forever happy to extremely pissed. I wanted to say it was from the coffee, nicotine or pot, but I was never sure. Could I imagine him pointing a gun at someone? No, as said before, he looked stupid but he wasn’t dumb.
At least not that dumb.
I opened my locker to see nothing was in it. A part of my was happy but I was also disappointed because I thought that maybe I would receive something new. Maybe some firecrackers or a dirty limerick?
“No explosives. Nothing. See, it’s like a brand new day,” Christy said.
“I was really hoping for a dead skunk.” Becky said with a sigh.
“Eww.”
“Better than a live one,” I replied as I laid my bag inside and slammed the door.
“Becky, really?” Christy asked as we walked down the hall.
“Think of the fricking awesome stories we could tell about it! That, and maybe half a day off of school due to the smell.”
“You found a skunk at your house, didn’t you?”
“Tom did.”
Christy and I just nodded.
“You talk to Josh?”
We looked down the hall and saw Josh talking with Chad.
“Not since last night. But, I wouldn’t have called it talking.”
“Are you going to?”
“I asked her that too,” Christy said.
I wanted to. I really wanted to, but in the middle of the hall wasn’t the best time. I also assumed that he was pissed at either what I said to him or what Leah had interpreted.
“I’m just going to my desk,” I replied as I stepped into the classroom.
I sat down my desk and laid my head down. Yeah, I almost felt like crying. I was miserable. I didn’t want to tell Josh anything but I also didn’t want to be alone through it all. Sure, I’d have my family—if I told them—and I had my friends but I would be given the title of “single teen mother” even though it takes another person. Did I want to have a better relationship with Josh?
Maybe.

I mean, my parents—when they were both around—had issues and sometimes it looked like they would scream at each other until one of their heads exploded but there were times where I’d see them sitting close together on the couch. They usually sat watching TV or drinking coffee, hardly ever making small talk but I believed that was just how their relationship was, I admit I missed seeing it, as Mom would just come home from work and either work on her wood-working projects or go to her room without saying anything to us.
Christmas sucked that year. Yeah, we exchanged gifts with each other and no one asked where anyone got the money for said gifts. We barely got the tree up as it and all of the decorations were buried in the garage that we had to do a five hour excavation to retrieve just the tree. Alex “acquired” new lights and some glass bulbs. We spent some time on Christmas Eve with the Daniels’ and they dragged Alexis and me with them.

Everything was in Latin. Everything. Was. In Latin. I didn’t recognize one song and they didn’t give any translation. I simply stood next to Josh in my quasi-nice-looking dress and tried to look like I belonged there without feeling like I might spontaneously combust on contact with holy water or from whatever the priest mumbled about. The only thing that made me feel a little better was sitting next to Josh and hold his hand both in the car and at the parish. I didn’t care that we were young or how stupid it may sound but I felt a peace over me for a few hours. It was an experience I hadn’t felt in a long time, like a heavy fog lifting that was over me since Dad vanished and our family sank further into that bottomless pit of despair. I wanted us to laugh about things. I wanted to not care that I was poor or that things would never be like they were in books or movies.

We left the midnight mass and came to the Daniels’ home and Alex took us back to the house. I almost didn’t; go, but Alexis demanded that we spend Christmas Day as a family. I took a look at Josh and he said he’d call me. I guess it made sense as I knew we wouldn’t be able to stay in a room by ourselves and since it was close to one in the morning, all of his brothers would be in the room too. Still, I wish I had just grabbed him and demanded for him to come to our house instead.
I decided to tell him during detention and accept whatever was said. If he laughed—in a good way—then we talk about what we would do from there. If he laughed and then turned white as a sheet then I would exclaim that I was scared shitless too and that we would tell our parents together. If he did anything else than I’d kick his ass and accept additional days of detention.

My heart pounded in my chest for most of the morning. Thing is, that I had survived trips with Alex; I have have my sisters scream in my face, and I’ve stayed up two full days. However, none of those times had I felt any pain or palpitation. It was normal for me and talking to Josh like a human being was normal, but it changed and became all new, like I was afraid or shy to talk to him without yelling.
We sat our desks in the room, but instead of just a divider, we were on the opposite side of the room from each other and well within earshot of the office staff.
“Josh,” I hissed and then listened for a response. Twenty seconds later, I whispered a little louder, “Joshua.”
“What?” He asked in almost a mumble.
I looked toward to the door, hoping that Maria would not turn to look at us.
“I need to talk to you,” I said with my hands to my lips.
“Are we on speaking terms?”
“Yes.”
“No, we are not.”
“Look, I’m sorry about last night. That’s kind of what I need to tell you.”
There was a delay in his response. I wanted to just get up and walk over to his desk instead of cupping my ear to try and hear him.
“I don’t care,” he whispered.
“You used to care...we used to talk about things.”
“Really?” Josh yelled as he stood up. “Did we? I think it was just you always talking about your family. Nothing but, bitch, bitch, bitch, bitch, bitch!”
“Hey!” Marie yelled from the other side of the wall.
Josh stood up and stoned over to my desk.
“Why don’t you go away, like your dad!”
“What?”
“It would make this school a better place if you and the rest of your family just got the fuck out of here!”
Marie stepped into the room, but she was too late.
"Fuck you, Josh!" I yelled as I punched him in the face.

The fight didn’t last long as Marie stood between us and Josh never had the chance to do anything. He was lead out of the room and Marie ordered—literally—for me to sit down and not move. I was content with that. I had nothing further to say to anyone, not even to the principal when he asked what happened.

Of course, he had the office call my mother’s work, but she was not able to come to the phone at the time so I spent the remainder of the day in that room to reflect on everything—Mr. B’s words, not mine. I had nothing to reflect on, I didn’t care. I needed to make a t-shirt in Home Ec that had the words “leave me alone” scrawled across it, perhaps made up of little pictures of Josh is in various degrees of agony?

I kind of wanted to see if I left a mark on him. Hopefully, there was a huge red spot on his face that pulsated and be like a neon sign for everyone to gawk at. But, I also thought of the retaliation he could do, now that that we ratcheted things up a bit. Would I need my sisters and brother to guard me against Leah and John? Josh, I could handle him and Becky would keep Chad in-check, but Josh’s parents?
For a split-second, I actually felt a fear for my life.

“What the hell happened?” Becky asked as flailed her arms at me.
"It doesn't matter, I don't need him, I don't need him to know-I don't care about him."
“That bad, eh?” Christy asked as we walked away from the school.
I looked behind me a few times as I felt like I was being watched.
“He’s still in the hall,” Christy said as Becky took several steps ahead of me before turning around, her arms still flailing about.
“He has this, like, huge welt on his face! Did you kick the shit out of him?”
“I only got one punch in before Marie stormed the room.”
“Only one? You’re losing your touch,” Christy replied.
“I planned to talk to him and depending on what he said, I would do.”
“Definitely not speaking terms now.”
“Nope,” I replied as we walked down to the buses. “And now I get to ride the bus home.”
“You could stay at my house.”
“Yeah, we could all hang out for a day before your mom explodes,” Becky said as we stood near my bus ride home.
“That’s already happened since the school called and left a message.”
“I’ll pray for you,” Christy said.
“You may just have to do that,” I replied as I took another look towards the school and then towards the other buses. Josh could run up at any minute.
“Get on the bus, Cherr! Unless you want to walk home.” Alex shouted as he ran up to the bus and got on.
“Your brother’s hot,” Becky said.
“Eww,” I replied.
“Just sayin.”
“What about Chad?” Christy asked.
“I can have a celebrity crush and a fictional real life one, right?”
“Whatever,” Christy replied. “See you, Cherry.”
“Tomorrow, hopefully.”
“Dead girl riding!” Becky yelled as I walked on the bus.

I flipped her off as the doors closed behind me.
The bus ride home was louder than the morning run. Alex was still in a seat by himself and I, miraculously, got one to myself. I took the time I had until the bus got to our stop to close my eyes and think about how to handle the issue with Mom once she got home. I could hide in the woods until she screamed my name but that wouldn’t help, I could clean up the house, all by myself, to show that even though I was being a serious bitch to others at school I could learn from my mistakes and take the proper punishment without being yelled at for the rest of the week. Of course, if Wednesday and Paul were there, they would make sure the kitchen would remain a mess. I shrugged-off the Cinderella idea. Besides, Mom would see right through it.
We arrived at home and saw Wes’ car parked in front of the house.
“Alexis brought her girlfriend over. Wow.”
“Wes is a nice guy.”
“Yeah, sure he is,” Alex replied as he lit a cigarette and stood next to the Honda. “I almost took this in this morning. I refuse to ride that damn bus tomorrow.”
“If you start walking at midnight you’ll get to to school by seventy-thirty,” I said before I walked into the house.

I debated for a few minutes to actually work on the house. To really deep clean so I clear my head of everything else. I thought of what room I could start with and decided to start with the kitchen, after running a load of my laundry. I took mom’s clothes out of the dryer, placed them in a basket and set it on the floor in front of her bed. I started the washer and then my work on the kitchen. Alex, meanwhile, sat in the living room watching TV.
“What are you doing, Cherry?”
“Chores.”
“Why?”
“They need to be done!” I shouted over the roar of the water in the kitchen.
“Why bother? It’s just going to get dirty again.”
I rolled my eyes, but he was right; it would just get dirty once again but at least I could say I gave it a try.
The front door opened and Alexis walked in with Wes. I had forgotten they were there, or at least I didn’t think about where they went to.
“Hello, family,” Alexis said with a sing-song tone to her voice. Either she was happy, or she was drunk but since Wes was with her, I had to assume she was just happy.
“Can you help me pack?” She asked Wes.
Wes waved to me and I only smiled in response.
“Pack?” Alex asked.
“Yes, I’m moving out.”
“Good luck with that.”
“Thank you, I will,” she said as she walked into the living room, with Wes following behind her.
“No, seriously, Mom is not going to let you do that.”
“Ask me if I care.”
“Where are you staying?”
“With Wes’ family.”
“Oh yeah, that’s really going to seal the deal,” Alex replied as he lit a new cigarette.
“I’m trying to move ahead with my life. I have a good job, I have a great GPA and I want some stability and sanity when I get home.” Alexis said as she took a hold of Wes’ hand. They must have talked about this for a long time.
A part of me wanted to go with them.

“What sitcom family are you trying to pretend life is supposed to be again?”
“Don’t you ever think of the greater things to come in life? Don’t you have a dream?”
“I plan to be one of the first legalized sellers in the state of Washington.”
“You can't”
“Why not?"
“Because it’s never going to be legal”
“It used to be illegal to marry a person of another race.”
“Oh my Gawd, you did not just equate selling pot with racial equality.”
“You see, I do listen in class.”
“Not enough, I'm afraid.”

She pulled Wes along and they climbed up the ladder.
I went back to working in the kitchen and finally noticed that I had too big of a task on my hands as the other side of the kitchen was a mess of spilled ramen noodles on the floor and dishes—dirty dishes—haphazardly stacked on a shelf as if someone was too damn lazy to even try to move them to counter. I wanted to look back and glare at Alex but it could have been Alexis, Wednesday, Paul or even Mom. I just grabbed the dishes and hauled them to the sink.
“Alex, could you at least sweep the noodles up from off the floor?”
“Why? Their not bothering me.”
I walked into the living room and tried to hold back my anger. “Fifteen seconds, Alex. It will take you fifteen. Goddam. Seconds.”
“I took you just that amount of time to come in here and tell me that.”
“I can understand why Alexis wants to leave.”
“You planning to follow her?”
“I wish.”
“Wow, we’re all that bad, eh?”
We both looked out the window to see a pair of headlights. I jumped to the window and squinted into the darkness.
“It’s not Mom’s. Maybe Paul.”
“Aww, I knew I should have cut that brake line at school today.”
I didn’t bother to say anything to Alex about that because I kind of thought he’d actually do it and I didn’t want to hear the details.
I saw two silhouettes walk to the window and then turn.
The kitchen door opened with a bang.
“Hey! Are Alexis and Wes here?” Wednesday asked as she walked in.
“Yes!” I shouted from the living room.
Wednesday and Paul stepped into the living room and I moved past them to go back into the kitchen.
“Cool. Where are they?”
“They are upstairs, m’lady,” Alex commented. He either had forgiven Wednesday and Paul for had happened the day before or he was holding onto a surprise for them. Judging buy his earlier words, forgiveness wasn’t on his mind.
Wednesday and Paul went to the ladder and climbed up.
“Yes sir, one little snip down the drivers’ side and it’s go speed racer go.”
“That’s not funny.”
“You‘re right, Cherry. It’s downright devious, incredibly clever, and more likely to happen if Paul says one damn word to me in the next half hour.”
“Whatever, Alex,” I replied as I grabbed the broom and dustpan and cleaned up the kitchen floor mess myself.
“Cherry?”
“Yeah?”
“Do we have any ramen?”
“Sure. Do you want to make you some? Fresh from off of the floor.”
“As long as you boil it in dirty dishwasher.”
“Fuck you, Alex.”
“That’s the spirit,” Alex replied as I continued to sweep. I fought back the urge of throwing the dustpan at him.

It was after eight when I finally had the kitchen in better shape than it was before. The mopping took forever because someone would clomp across the floor taking stuff out to their cars. It looked like both Wednesday and Alexis were clearing out their rooms before Mom got home.
Alex continued to watch TV as everyone else walked past him. I admit I was a bit put-off no one asked me to help, but I thought that if I was cleaning then it would distract Mom for a while, since the radiant glow of the floor would blind her and the lack of any mugs on the coffee table would cause her to faint onto the couch. So, maybe it could have been a win-win for everyone.
At nine o’clock, everyone was gathered in the living room, just talking, well, everyone except for Alex, when all of us saw a pair of headlights pull into the driveway.
I thought it had to be Mom and the Daniels’ so I took a few steps back and made my way to the ladder.
We all watched through the window but couldn’t make out who it was in the dark.
“If it’s mom, we’re all going to stand on one front,” Alexis said.
“What if Leah and John are with her?” Wednesday asked.
“We can rush John,” Alex said as he pointed at Wes and Paul.
I had to wonder how Wes felt about being thrusted into a potential brawl.
The kitchen door opened and a police officer stepped in.
“Shit,” I whispered to myself. Josh must have told the best story ever to his parents. My heart raced and I was just about ready to run down the hall, through Alex’s room, and jump out the window.
The officer looked to his right and nodded.
We all watched as a man stepped into the archway. It was Dad!
“Hey there, kiddos. What’d I miss?”

To be continued in Cherry Moone: BloodMoone