Saving The Dark Side: Book 1: The Devotion

by Joseph Paradis

  “Yeah but you know Drew is going to-,” Cole jumped as the one-minute bell blared from the speaker right above his head.

  She turned on her heel. “They really don’t give us much time between classes, do they? Thanks for the help, Cole. Sarah’s going to love it. You’d better start thinking about who you’re going to ask.”

  Ashley disappeared into the queue before Cole could explain what exactly Drew would do to her.

  Cole’s tardiness might have gone unnoticed if not for his squeaky shoe announcing his arrival to the whole class. Mr. Scroy didn’t make a big deal of it though. Cole was one of his favorites in this class. Zoology was one of the few subjects Cole found interesting. Unlike most of his other classes, which bored him to death and resulted in slightly less than mediocre grades, Cole was near top in this class. Today they were talking about the different layers of rainforest canopy, a subject that would normally have him enthralled, yet Cole threw his bag down in a solitary seat in the back of the classroom and proceeded to brood over his exchange with Ashley.

  If only he could call Nana Beth. She would know exactly what to say to make him feel better. He recalled a late night on her couch many years ago, when he’d been upset for not having any friends outside of school. Ashley was on vacation with her family, leaving Cole alone for two weeks in the summer. As usual, Nana Beth had regaled him with stories of her youth while imparting her sagely advice to him. He couldn’t remember the stories, but one bit of advice stuck in his mind: No matter what life throws your way, you keep moving.

  The bell rang, jolting Cole alert and signaling the end of class. He didn’t know how he was supposed to keep moving, so he took it literally and decided to take the long way to lunch and stop by Joshua’s classroom to check up on him. The special education department was on the third floor and by the time Cole climbed all those stairs he was out of breath, though slightly less winded than he thought he would be. He felt a little more confident about tonight’s tryouts.

  “Colton, come in, come in. Joshy look who came to visit you,” Joshua’s one-on-one, Mrs. Walker, patted him on the shoulder to get his attention.

  “Oh it’s you, hahaha!” Joshua beckoned to Cole in a theatrical carefree manner, as if he’d been expecting Cole’s arrival.

  “Joshy, show Colton what you’re working on today.” Mrs. Walker then dropped her voice in feigned undertone: “We’re learning about heroes today and Joshy wrote an essay on who his hero is. No Joshy, your essay, it’s right here silly.”

  “I know,” Joshua said plainly as he proffered the essay to his older brother.

  The essay was very short, only a paragraph, and it included a neatly written translation below due to Joshua’s dreadful handwriting. Cole didn’t need the translation, however; he was one of the two people who could understand Joshua’s handwriting as well as his garbled speech.

  Colton is my hero. He walks me to the bus stop and protects me from the mean kids. Colton is my brother. He sleeps too much but he takes care of Joshy. Colton is my best friend. Colton is my hero.

  Cole felt a swell of gratitude for his little brother, as well as a modicum of pity. Joshua loved so much, but he’d definitely never find a girl to reciprocate those feelings, except for their mom and Nana Beth of course, but that was different. Cole thought he was better off this way. Joshua wouldn’t ever have to deal with the heavy sack of disappointment Cole was currently slugging around.

  Throwing an arm around his little brother, he squeezed him as hard as he could, causing Joshua to emit a breathless giggle as he fought to escape. “Thanks Joshy, I didn’t know I was your hero! You know what, I think you’re my hero too, Bud. You’re the one who always wins when we play basketball. Here, you’d better put this in a safe place. It’s got to be the best essay you’ve ever written.”

  Joshua flicked his hand dismissively. He put on his cool-guy pouty face, as if the essay were a trivial matter not worthy of his attention. “No, you keep.”

  Cole was the one laughing now, securing the essay in his bag. “You are definitely my hero, Joshy.”

  Just outside the cafeteria was the school bulletin board. Here you could find information on the school dance, a flyer on the new parking policy, signup sheets for the Latin club, and most importantly the list of who made first cut from last night’s Junior Varsity basketball tryouts. Cole hesitated with his sweaty palms and racing heart. It wasn’t until this moment that he realized how high his hopes had risen. Holding his breath, he finally examined the list. It was there. Third from the top. His name. Cole released the breath in his lungs with a loud whoop, punching the air.

  The cafeteria was a madhouse as usual. The school had staggered lunch times but even after Cole showed up ten minutes late, the line was still out the door. At least with the din of conversation no one could hear Cole’s still-squeaking shoe. With tryouts now a definite, Cole had grabbed a double lunch to be extra fueled up for tonight’s round of suicides. Walking past Ashley and her friends, Cole had hoped to get a wave or at least a smile from his crush. She was too busy laughing at whatever that idiot Drew was going on about, however. Cole picked up his head and kept moving.

  Cole joined his friends at the usual table. ‘Friends’ was a grandiose term for people he ate lunch with and reminisced with about all the pranks they used to pull in middle school. The stories were hilarious, but Cole would throw himself out the window if Ashley overheard the anecdotes passed around the table like trading cards.

  Cole sat down mid story-battle, knowing exactly which one they were on. Everyone at the table was trying to one up each other with their tales from middle school.

  “No-no, it’s really easy. You just take the two paper clips and stick them in the socket. Make sure they don’t touch though or else you might get electrocuted,” said Kevin Fitzgerald, a tall, chubby kid still sporting a bowl-cut. He was in the middle of a narration in which Cole himself had been the main character. “Class was just about over and we were working on a stupid poster or something in the hallway. Cole said he once saw an electrical outlet shoot sparks if you connect the wires, so we found a couple paper clips and Cole stuck em right in there, the idiot! I thought he was going to get shocked for sure. Me, Jay, and Little-Kevin formed a human wall so no one could see. Cole told us to take a step back and we didn’t friggin listen, did we, Cole? Anyways, Cole takes his notebook and touches the two paper clips together and BOOM!” Kevin threw his arms out as wide as possible, knocking over Little-Kevin’s soda. “Sorry Little Kev. So, BOOM! Sparks everywhere like a fourth of fucking July! Must have been eight feet tall. The notebook got toasted of course. It was still on fire when all the retards came running out of the sped classroom. Apparently Cole knocked the power out in half the wing. Imagine all those retards screaming in the dark!”

  The table erupted with obnoxious laughter and fists slamming on lunch trays. This was a pretty good opener. While it would be hard to top that one, Cole could already think of three other stories that would put that one to shame. Cole was about to start when he heard Ashley’s voice from a few tables over. He remembered the laughs he had gotten from the exploding socket, but he also remembered poor Joshy running out crying his head off because he was so scared. Shame clamped his mouth shut. Little-Kevin took the next one however, weaving an epic about a Halloween night when Cole had pulled a mailbox up and thrown it onto the roof of some unknown neighbor’s house.

  Cole’s next class was Astronomy, and it was easily his favorite. It wasn’t due to the teacher being cool, which he was, or the class being easy, which it wasn’t. Cole loved astronomy because the school had just installed a million-dollar planetarium last year. After pouring over basic astrophysics, the class would spend a portion of the block in the starlit room. The planetarium was small, but Cole found it fascinating.

  “All right guys and gals, come on in and find some floor,” Wayne Johnson corralled his students into the dimly lit room. Everyone quickly found their favorite spots and got ready for the show. �
��We don’t have as much time this week so we’re going to skip the intros and get right to it. Lights are going off. Please, please no funny business. I swear I heard two of you slurping on each other yesterday.”

  A smattering of childish giggles peppered the room, which was now pitch black. Wayne Johnson was definitely not an authority figure. At twenty-eight years old, Wayne had thick glasses and a beautiful ponytail that swept his upper back. Try as he might, he could never get the students to call him ‘Mr. Johnson’. It wasn’t out of disrespect, far from it in fact. Wayne was just so likeable. It was as if he was their awkward, cool-in-his-own-way older brother they took pity on, yet gave him a gentle ribbing from time to time for his own good.

  Cole adjusted his backpack under his head as a makeshift pillow, and gazed at the domed ceiling, which was now full to the brim with stars. Unless he were out in the desert a hundred miles from the nearest street light, Cole would never otherwise see such a show. Today Wayne planned to shift the sky to the southern hemisphere and go over the foreign constellations. Cole loved hearing about the different tales each culture made up to go along with the seemingly random pattern of dots. Today however, Cole was having a difficult time paying attention. Yawning over Wayne’s narration, he shook himself and took off his hoodie, hoping the cold air would rouse him. Why was he still so tired? He had just slept for over an hour in Webster’s class.

  The bell rang, waking Cole with a jerk. The room was empty. Confused and chilled, he put his hoodie back on, wondering why nobody had woken him. He wasn’t the most popular kid but still, was it too much to give him a kick?

  The lights in the hallway were blinding. Cole stood for a moment wincing like a vampire emerging from his coffin. When his eyes adjusted, Cole notice the hallways were empty as well. Terror gripped his heart. That wasn’t the bell for the end of class; that was the bell for the start of the next class! Cole took off running, only to be halted by his aching legs. There was no point running anyway, he was already late. The entire school was eerily quiet. As he squeaked through the barren halls, Cole’s imagination spun up a post-apocalyptic zombie scenario where he was the sole survivor living in the school. By the time he reached his next class, he had rescued Ashley from the hordes and the two of them chased the sunset in a commandeered school bus. Cole was about to imagine what he and Ashley would do after the sunset until he opened the door and his dreamy smile fell from his face. There was no one in the room.

  Cole swore as he looked at his watch. Five o’clock? How was that possible? Disoriented, he took inventory of his thoughts. He could miss one class, he was doing fine in Statistics so this wouldn’t set him back too far. He could walk home from school. It would be cold and dark but he’d done it before. Joshua was okay as his mom should have picked him up today on account of Cole’s tryouts tonight. The tryouts! Cole swore even more loudly this time. Cursing his rusted legs, he ran as fast as he could to the locker room. If he was very lucky, Coach wouldn’t notice him coming in a few minutes late.

  Cole was not lucky, however, not even a little bit. Tryouts were well underway by the time he emerged from the locker room. Hoping Coach could see past his tardiness, Cole approached the man with the megaphone and asked where he should fall in.

  “You’re kidding me right?” Coach Connelly didn’t bother looking at him, but there was no doubt that Cole had his full attention.

  Cole was ready for this. He had a rehearsed an entire sob story involving his mentally handicapped little brother getting sick all over himself and needing a change of clothes. It was quite a tale considering Cole had less than ten minutes to think it up. This was low and he knew it, but not even Joshua would begrudge him this life-changing opportunity at the expense of an embarrassing fib. “Coach I know I’m late but there was-”

  Coach Connelly interrupted him without taking his eyes from the court: “You’re what, eleven minutes late now? You know I could work with you, for being late. Hell I’d give you the benefit of the doubt if you were twenty minutes late, but there’s one thing I can’t work with. Do you know what all my student athletes have in common?”

  Cole froze, unable to think of an intelligent response. If only Coach would let him explain.

  After an appropriate pause in which Cole was supposed to respond, Coach Connelly drove on, “All of my student athletes are just that, student athletes. Damn good ones too. Your responsibilities as a student come before your responsibilities as an athlete.” Coach brought his gaze down into Cole’s eyes now, boring right through him. “You show up late for your first class and leave for an hour of lecture, then you show up late for your second and third, then you don’t even bother showing up for your last class. We all have our priorities but I have no use for someone with yours. Leave my gym.”

  There was no room for misinterpretation or arguments. Cole turned on his heel and left. A wave of nauseating shame washed over him as he shrunk to the size of a small child. Rebellious tears leaked down Cole’s cheeks as he changed back into his squeaky shoes and day clothes. Luckily the locker room as just as empty as his Statistics class was. Cole wondered how Coach knew about his lateness. He also wished he would have let him explain that he’d never left his classes. He was sleeping because he was exhausted from the stupid tryouts. Cole finished changing and started the long walk back to Blossom Street, berating the stalker of a coach all the while.

  It was fully dark by the time Cole reached his front door. Even from outside he could smell one of his favorite meals wafting through the drafty door. Under the orange glow of the street lights, Cole paused for a moment on the front steps. It only just now dawned on him how worn-down the front porch was. He remembered it being so much cleaner, and the paint was supposed to be brighter. Now the steps were down to the wood, chipped and scuffed by thousands of scraping footsteps. His sticky shoe had accumulated a layer of sand and rocks beneath its gluey layer. Cole removed his shoes at the bottom of the steps so as not to rub off even more of the paint. The screen door screeched his arrival even before he opened the main door. At least he was in time for dinner. Nana Beth, a very messy Joshua, and his mother were at the table.

  “Hey, Honey. I thought you wouldn’t be done for another hour. I hope somebody dropped you off?” Tara raised an eyebrow. Cole was old enough-he knew she wasn’t crazy about him walking the tree-streets alone after dark. “How did second cut go?”

  Cole walked to the hallway and avoided Nana Beth’s eyes, stuffing his backpack in the closet. “Much quicker than first cut. I guess Coach thought he beat us up enough last night.”

  “So when’s third cut? Or will there even be a third cut?” Tara asked. She had bought it.

  “I don’t know. I’ll find out tomorrow at lunch.” He needed to change the subject and fast. Cole was not a good liar, especially with Nana Beth’s eagle-eyes upon him. “That’s a nice look Joshy, I think you’ve got more food in your hair than on your plate.”

  Betrayed, Joshua dropped his fork and gave Cole a look of deepest loathing, as if dinner was going perfectly fine until Cole had to open his mouth and sell him out. Cole never told on Joshy. Cole was his hero after all.

  Tara gasped at the mask of chicken and rice that caked Joshy’s face and hair. “Oh Jesus, Joshy how many times do we have to do this? Come on get up. GET UP!”

  “Camaan!” Joshua bellowed, kicking his chair in protest.

  Tara put a firm hand on Joshua’s arm. “Get up now, come on, there we go. We’re going to the bathroom to wash that off. I thought you wanted to be a big boy, Joshy. Big boys don’t wipe food all over their faces! They use napkins!”

  Cole fixed himself a plate as his mother’s tirade faded up the stairs. He couldn’t help but noticing Nana Beth’s eyes still on him. He took a seat as far from her as he could on the little table. A minute passed. She was clearly waiting for him to speak first.

  Cole finally broke the silence: “I was kicked out of tryouts.”

  Nana Beth cocked her head slightly, her scrutinizing gaze rak
ing over him. “You’re almost a grown man, Colton. You needn’t tell me anything if you don’t want to.”

  A reluctant grin tugged at the corners of Cole’s mouth. He winced slightly as his chapped lips cracked. As if she was expecting it, Nana Beth pulled a jar of Carmex from her cardigan. The warm goo soothed his cracked, scratchy lips. “Nana Beth, you know I can’t keep anything from you. There’s no point in me trying to hide it.”

  “True, true,” Nana Beth said and replaced the Carmex in her pocket, and crossed her hands over her lap in a matronly pose. “But I feel the need to at least give you the chance to keep your secrets to yourself. Everyone deserves the rights to their own secrets, even if they have a terrible poker face.”

  Cole laughed. “Yeah I should probably work on that. Maybe you could help me with it sometime?”

  “Maybe,” Nana Beth inclined her head to him. This was Cole’s indication to say his piece.

  Cole’s smile faded as he dropped his gaze to his half-eaten plate. “I was late to every class today and I completely slept through my last one. Coach Connelly found out and kicked me out of tryouts.”

  “And do you think his verdict was fair?” Her tone wasn’t patronizing, but Cole felt foolish all the same.

  He knew the right answer, though it was hard to feel it through the hot lump of anger filling his head. “Yes, but he doesn’t know I’ve been sick. I must be coming down with something, I mean I feel like I could fall asleep right here at the table. No matter how hard I fought it I couldn’t stay awake in first block, and I completely passed out in the planetarium for a few hours. No one bothered to wake me up at the end of class. Though I guess being sick doesn’t excuse me from being late to the three classes I did attend.”