Illicit (3 page)

There was a warm mist like rain falling as we exited the front door. That’s Havenhurst for you.

In the two days I’d been here it has been either raining or misting, and always there’s a dark cloud hanging over the place; it’s like the sun never shone here, though dad assured me it did.

Trust me to go from one extreme to the next; mom lives out west where there was too much sun, I’ve moved to the polar opposite. I guess it’s right what they say, be careful what you wish for.

He started the truck, which he claims has been a little temperamental since he hasn’t driven it in a few years, but which worked like a dream for me.

It coughed, spat and hiccoughed, which caused him to mutter and use what for him was profanity. Mostly damn and blast.

“Step aside old man let me show you how it’s done.”

I hopped up into the cracked and patched seat of my new love and turned the key gently; she turned over on the first try.

“Well crap, show off.”

“See old man, she knows my touch already, she’ll never answer to your boorish ways again.”

I loved sparring with him, it was almost like having a friend at long last, but with him I knew he was dad.

Not so much with mom, with mom I’d spent a lot of time being the adult. That’s why dad had finally stepped in; it had killed me to make the choice when it had been laid before me, but it was something I had to do.

I’d been suffocating, drowning in a sea of nothingness. Anna’s constant hair brained antics of jumping from one sure-fire get rich scheme to another had finally caught up with us.

Maybe with me out of the picture she could finally grow up, since I won’t be there to hold her hand.

I waved goodbye to dad as I backed out of the driveway, and like the small town father he was.

The man I vaguely remembered tucking me in at night with a teddy bear, before my mom took off with me in the middle of the night, watched until I was out of sight. It brought tears to my eyes as I watched him fade in the rearview mirror.

***

Havenhurst was a far cry from the dingy cities mom had always found for us to live in, while she looked for the next big deal or whatever it was she sought on hour many travels.

There was also something very ethereal and somehow familiar about the place. It reminded me of a place in my dreams.

I would’ve put it off as childhood memories, but that would’ve been hard, since I hadn’t been here since the age of three, and I had no real recollection of the place, other than this feeling of belonging, that was rather persistent.

The drive to school covered practically the whole town, which was no more than a few square miles on the map.

I think dad had joked that you could drive from one end to the next in ten minutes flat doing twenty.

I had yet to test that theory, but I wasn’t sure he was too far off. There was a quiet stillness about the place; a stillness that went beyond what the eyes and ears could sense.

It was almost skin deep, which sounded fanciful and more like one of my fictitious stories than anything else. But somehow the quiet spoke to me, almost like a beckoning.

Beyond that, or beneath it, was the feeling of something dark following me; yet I felt no real fear, because somehow I knew that the other would stand between me, and the darkness.

There was nothing but woods lining the main road. Tall trees some of them with thick trunks that defied logic.

Their branches spanned from one side to the next, as if reaching out for each other, so that even in the early morning hours, the light always seemed to be hidden.

It looked like every setting I’d seen in a horror flick filmed in the Midwest somewhere.

Only, if there were any cornfields around, I had yet to see them. I shook myself out of my gloomy reverie before I made myself afraid.

I was starting to spook myself, and that feeling I got when I reached the middle of the road where the trees were at their densest didn’t help.

I felt that strangeness in the wind once more, a feeling of calm and security enveloped me even as I sensed the darkness creeping up.

I guess the place was relatively safe though since my dad hadn’t issued any warnings to be careful.

So it was with mixed feelings that I drove along the straight road with no one else in sight, to my new beginning.

I didn’t turn the radio on, which was strange, because music was my constant companion. But somehow I sensed on this lonely stretch of road that it wasn’t needed.

Either that, or I needed to have my wits about me and be on the alert. A chill ran through me just then at the thought, and I shook that off as well.

I knew I could be fanciful in my imagination, always have been, but I was determined to put that all behind me starting now.

As I thought it I remembered last night’s little nocturnal adventure. He had gone farther than before, touching me in all the right places until I was ready to scream.

Then things had changed and he seemed dangerous suddenly. It wasn’t the first time I’d sensed danger in his presence, if you can call it that.

Sometimes I felt safe in his arms and others I wasn’t quite sure that he wasn’t the danger that I shouldn’t be running from instead of to him in my sleep.

I had to cut my thoughts off once again when my body started reacting to my thoughts. In the last month alone my body had gone through this metamorphosis.

Seemingly overnight I had turned into one huge hormone, with thoughts and needs that I had no real name for, other than what I read in books or heard others whispering about.

We’d never settled in any one place long enough for me to form the kind of friendships that would enable me to ask a girlfriend about such things, and there was no way I was going to ask my mom.

I was a late bloomer or so I’d heard more than once before, so maybe that could account for my new awakenings.

I knew they were sexual in nature these new feelings, but I had no direction, no reason as to why they had intensified so strongly out of the blue.

I couldn’t find anything different about myself, other than the move anyway. I couldn’t quite parlay that into a reason for me to suddenly be plagued with the hormones of a twelve- year old boy.

The schoolyard was a lot more than I’d expected. I have to admit to not holding out too much hope for the small town school; it was one of the only drawbacks to my making the move.

I’d become very scholastically motivated in the last couple of years. Having a mother who shuffled from place to place every few months, with no sense of stability and never knowing what was coming next, helped me to see how much a formal education was needed, if I ever wanted to change my circumstances.

That was one of the reasons I’d started rebelling against mom there at the end, I’d been tired of skipping class and losing ground each time I had to pick up stakes.

Not that I ever saw myself living the high life, and dad did seem to be doing very well for himself as the police chief.

But I wanted more, dreamed of more. The more that would take me to far off places maybe, that’s always been a dream of mine.

It was strange that I never considered the moving around I did with my mother in my formative years, travelling.

I saw it more as a frightening experience, never quite sure where I’d end up from one day to the next.

It was never an easy thing for a young child I don’t think, to be awakened in the dead of night in a hurried rush, and the next minute to be rushing along a highway in some out of the way place to the next dead end place of abode.

I took a deep breath and pushed the depressing thoughts aside. I wasn’t going to look back anymore; starting today I was only going to look forward with hope. It was a new feel for me, but one I couldn’t wait to experience farther.

There were kids milling about. Some guys were throwing a football back and forth on the grass, a group of girls were talking animatedly with lots of hand gestures involved, and yet more kids were around the side of the building smoking.

They looked like your average high school kids, not some weird group of corn fed overgrown louts in overalls and girls in gunnysacks with golden pony tails down their backs.

It’s what I’d half expected from mom’s description of the place, when she’d been doing her best to prevent me from coming here.

According to her, her hometown was a backward hick town with nothing much going for it except the exit sign at the edge of town.

We’ll see, it was now or never I suppose. This next year I’d have to buckle down and make my mark on the education front if I wanted to achieve half of what I wanted to in life.

Thank heavens I’d been smart enough and recognized the signs of mom’s angst when I’d turned thirteen. It was the only reason I was able to salvage my manuscripts from the many schools I’d been in and out of since then.

I would talk her into getting my paperwork before we picked up and left like thieves in the night again. Now I had a record of my abilities that followed me everywhere. Something mom seemed to not want, but had given into when I insisted forcefully.

‘Okay Jazz this is it, don’t be a total and complete dweeb on your first day, and maybe you’ll make some friends.’

My little pep talk served to give me the added boost I needed to get myself out the door.

Shoving my Jansport higher on my arm, I fortified myself with a deep breath and squared my shoulders, before stepping forward into my future, for the next year at least.

I felt a strange sensation as soon as my feet touched the ground. It was almost a replica of the feeling I’d had getting off the plane, only somehow more intense.

I looked around suspiciously, not sure of what I was searching for exactly, but there was something in the air here. Not entirely unpleasant, but a little unnerving I guess.

Like eyes peering at me from a hidden place. I felt the shiver go down my spine and brushed off my fanciful feelings as nerves.

There was nothing to fear here, this was my chance for a new beginning I could feel it.

I felt some of my angst fall away as I moved one foot in front of the other. I just had to get through the first day jitters and I‘ll be good to go.

That, and this queasy feeling of excitement, tempered with a minuscule feeling of impending...something. I felt those eyes again, but fought not to look around like a little lost lamb.

No need to call attention to myself by acting like a freak. I kept my head down as I made my way from the truck to the steps leading into the old red brick building that looked like something out of an-old-eighties after school special.

“Fresh meat.” The cry rang out and jolted me out of my reverie just seconds before a ball came flying past my face. I barely had time to flinch before realization dawned. I guess I was the fresh meat in question.

“Track you ass.” A blonde boy with baby fat cheeks trotted over to retrieve the ball which had landed not too far from where I stood, not quite sure of my next move.

“Hey sorry about that, I’m Mark Spade and that ass who almost brained you is Ian Track.”

The tall African American boy joined us with a cheeky grin on his face; oh this one was trouble. His smirk made you want to grin even as you knew you should be watching him closely, because the mischievous look in his eyes said he was up to no good.

“Hi, sorry about the balls to the face thing, no hard feelings huh.”

I took his outstretched hand and ignored his double entendre.

“Hi I’m Jazz.”

“We know, you’re Chief Tanning’s daughter, welcome to the dark side.”

Ian hung his tongue out and twitched his brow at me, in what I guessed was supposed to be a lascivious come on.

“Dude you’re an ass; so Jazz, you know anyone here? Cause if you don’t I’ll be more than happy to show you around.”

“Um, I, I’ll think about it Mark let me just get settled in and I’ll let you know.”

“Cool then, it’s a date.”

He tossed the ball from hand to hand as the two headed back in the direction from which they’d come.

I shrugged the strange encounter off as I made my way to the school doors. There were now even more kids watching me, as the theatrics had drawn their attention.

I did my usual hiding behind my hair thing with my head down, until I made it to the doors at the top of the steps.

Another strange sensation hit me as I reached out for the handles and the wind picked up a little behind me.

Looking over my shoulder, I checked the clouds for rain, and shrugging off the weird feeling, headed inside to what awaited me.

There was that prickling sensation under my skin again and the sense of something tickling the edges of my mind. It had been happening ever since I came here to this town.

That sense of foreboding mixed in with a knowing, that was a bit confusing. I had no real memory of this place; in fact the first few years of my life were a blank.

I had no recollections of anything or anyone before at least the age of four, and mom hadn’t kept any photos or mementos as far as I could tell.

It was only here lately that I even remembered anything about my dad outside of our random phone calls over the years. I keep getting flashes of him putting me to bed when I was very young, but it could be something I read or saw on TV, who knows.

I brushed off the strange feeling once again, and withdrawing the folded sheet of paper from the back pocket of my faded Levis, I read the directions to the counselor’s office and headed there first.

I avoided the few students that were already inside, even as I caught the questioning looks from many. With head down and breath held I made my way to my destination.

The halls smelt like any other high school and bore the same wear and tear marks.

I felt my first rush of excitement wash over me as my weird feelings drifted away and was replaced by one of great expectations.

New school, new opportunities, a new place to shine. I could feel it already, and knew somewhere deep inside, that I’d come home.

I can finally concentrate on my studies without the constant worry of having to bail mom out once more hanging over my head.

For the first time in my life I thought, I knew what it felt like to be a teenager, something I’d despaired of ever being.

It was here in these empty hallways that I allowed myself to breathe for the first time in what seemed like forever.

What would my life be like here, in a place where I can finally set down roots so to speak?

This will be the first school I didn’t fear being dragged out of from one day to the next. Maybe I could finally make some real friends for once. It was a good thought and with it came a sense of peace.

The whispers were starting to penetrate as I made my way, but no one approached for which I was eternally grateful.

For all my bravado, I wasn’t quite ready to jump right in at the starting gate. It usually takes me some time to warm up.

I guess it stems from never being sure from one town to the next if this was it. If this was the place we were finally going to settle down in.