Secrets: The Hero Chronicles (Volume 1)

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Secrets: The Hero Chronicles (Volume 1) Page 2

by Tim Mettey


  **

  Paying attention in class was harder than usual. Everyone was talking about the lights, and I couldn’t stop thinking about them either. My teacher, Ms. Rush, was the only other thought that entered my mind. She was so beautiful. I wished for her to be my girlfriend. I daydreamed of picking her up in a shiny red sports car and taking her to a nice restaurant like Applebee’s or somewhere like that. If only I was older.

  “Mr. Taylor. Mr. Taylor?” Ms. Rush’s voice shattered my daydream. “Could you please tell me the capital of Ohio?”

  I looked down at my book, hoping the answer would jump off the page at me, but nothing.

  “Mr. Taylor, please pay more attention next time. Anyone else?” She looked around the room. Several hands jumped into the air around me. “Ms. McBride?”

  “The capital of Ohio is Columbus.” Tina McBride was a big time brown-noser. She always knew the answers to all the questions and never did anything wrong. If only I sat by her, I would at least get some help during tests.

  “Very good,” Ms. Rush said.

  DING! DING! DING! DING!

  The bell rang for recess. I hurried to the front of the line to go outside. We walked down the long hall lined with our red lockers and then out the door to the playground. The rest of the school was already outside at recess. Instead of playing, everyone was standing and looking up at the dazzling rainbow clouds. The teachers were gazing along with us. Some of them had cameras and were taking pictures of the sky.

  “Mark Siegel, Tina McBride, and Alex Taylor, please report to Ms. Rush’s classroom,” blared the outdoor PA. What did I do now? I thought as I walked through the doors back inside. Down the hall from me were Mark and Tina. I ran to catch up with them.

  “Are we in trouble?” I asked.

  “Well there’s no way I’m in trouble,” Tina said, “but you and Mark probably are.” I glanced at Mark, and we both gave her a nasty look. We all walked into Ms. Rush’s class. She was sitting at her desk in the front of the room. She looked up with a big smile and waved us toward her. I was relieved to see her smiling.

  Right then the ground started to shake, knocking us sideways. Ms. Rush’s expression turned to one of complete terror. The walls and floor began to move violently in different directions, and there was a loud sound like a train coming down the hall behind us. The ceiling and walls started to fall in on us. A metal beam fell and grazed my leg, cutting through my pants and into my shin. I turned and ran toward the exit. I was being thrown in every direction, weaving in and out of parts of the ceiling. The lockers had come alive, shifting back and forth, dancing off the walls. Several of them had worked their way into the middle of the hall, making it difficult to get through. The intense sounds were like nothing I had ever heard. I was right next to the exit when a large piece of the wall fell. I jumped over it and went through the shattered door to the outside. I got away from the building and turned back to see it still shaking.

  “We made it!” I yelled, but I was alone. Tina, Mark, and Ms. Rush were still inside.

 

  Almost Five Years Later

  The doorbell rang. I opened the door just wide enough to see who was there.

  “Is your mother home, young man?” A short elderly woman stood before me, hunched over, holding a walker for support.

  “Yes, she is. Just a minute, please.” I shut the door. Cora was standing right next to me.

  “There is an old lady outside who wants to see you,” I whispered.

  Cora opened the door. “Well, hello, Mrs. Phillips. It’s so good of you to come on such short notice.” Cora turned to me. “Nicholas, please finish packing your room.” She walked out onto the porch, shutting the door behind her. Mrs. Phillips must be the new owner of this house, free of charge.

  I had been calling Cora “Mom” for years, but it was still weird to say it or hear others say it; she’s actually my mom’s sister. Before I started calling her Mom, she insisted on being called Cora. Not Aunt Cora, Auntie, or anything else—just plain Cora. I still call her that when no one else is around, but in front of others I always call her Mom, because that’s how it has to be for now.

  I looked at the large window in my room and could clearly see my reflection in it. I barely recognized the person I saw. I was no longer a little kid. I was now stuck somewhere between a kid and an adult. My hair color had changed from blond to sandy brown. I had grown at least a foot over the past five years and was skinnier than when I was younger. No matter how much I ate, I didn’t gain weight. I was hoping I would grow taller than the average 5’9” that I was, but there was no sign of me growing taller any time soon. So average is what I would have to settle for.

  I looked past my reflection at the moving truck sitting in the driveway with boxes stacked neatly around it. I hated moving. Every year for the last five years, we have moved on August 10, which was tomorrow. I was getting really tired of it.

  “Nicholas, please come down here and help me,” Cora yelled from the bottom of the stairs. I looked out the window one last time and walked through my empty bedroom and down the stairs.

  “Grab those boxes by the door and put them in the truck. I would like to leave at 5 a.m. sharp tomorrow morning.”

  I had changed a lot over the last five years, but Cora hadn’t at all. She was still slender and beautiful like she had been plucked out of a fashion and beauty magazine. The only thing that changed was her blonde hair—every other day a new style or color, but each as beautiful as the last. I was finally taller than her, but she still seemed larger than life. Always in control. Perfect in every way.

  We had perfected a routine that made moving easier for us. We would pack the evening before and leave early the next morning. This would eliminate any questions from people as to why we were moving. This was one of the ways we stayed unnoticed. I put the rest of the boxes into the truck.

  “So what do you want to get to eat tonight?” Cora asked.

  “I don’t care. You pick.”

  “Nicholas, don’t be that way. I know you don’t like to move, but you know why we have to. Let’s go to Rukker’s. I know you like that place, and you can drive! You need to practice more so you can get your license when we get to our new home.” She tossed the keys to me. She definitely was trying to cheer me up because we never drove the truck into town unless it was absolutely necessary.

  The drive into town was normally a treat, but tonight it wasn’t. It was just another sad reminder that I would be gone tomorrow, never to return to this town.

  Rukker’s was packed. It had its normal line of cars waiting around the corner for the drive-thru. This was the first place where Cora and I ate when we moved here exactly a year ago. It was an odd choice because it’s literally covered in used gum all over the outside. Cora had her standards and this did not pass. But it was our little tradition on the last night to always eat at the same place where we had first eaten when we moved to that town. When we moved here, Rukker’s was that restaurant. I don’t know why Cora wanted me to pick where to eat tonight, because I knew this was where we would go.

  I pulled into the packed parking lot and found a spot.

  “Nicholas, I’ll wait in the truck,” Cora said, staring at her pink leather planner that had all of our life in it. All of our important information was in there. It was what she used to organize our lives.

  “What do you want me to get you?” I asked.

  “I’ll take a Rukker Burger, no pickles or mustard, please.”

  “Do you want something to drink?”

  “Oh yes,” she looked up, “a chocolate shake. Can’t forget that!”

  The line inside was as long as the one outside. I made eye contact with Andy. He was short and skinny with red hair and a lot of freckles. Andy was the closest thing I had to a friend here. I had made sure that I gave him no reason to be friends with me, but he was persistent, and so he was my first “kind of” friend in a long time.

  “Hey, Nick! I get a
break in five! Don’t worry about the line; I’ll place your order and meet you out back. The usual for you and your mom, right?” Andy said it so loudly that the entire line turned back to look at me. Red-faced, I nodded yes and walked out the front door. I got back to our truck, not sure if he was going to get our order right, but it was better than all of those people staring at me while I told him what we wanted.

  “Food will be ready in a couple minutes,” I said. Cora nodded, barely even noticing I was there. She was still staring at her planner, deep in thought. After a couple of minutes, I walked to the back of the restaurant. Andy was standing there with a bag of food and a large chocolate shake.

  “Here’s your food, and I even remembered your mom’s chocolate shake that she loves so much! So what are you doing tonight, Nick?” Andy asked, giving me a punch on the arm.

  “Well, nothing really,” I quickly replied, avoiding eye contact and hoping he wouldn’t suspect anything.

  “What’s wrong with you, man? You look like your cat just died or something.” Andy laughed at his own joke. I didn’t know what to say. Cora never let me tell anyone that we were moving. She thought it made things easier not to tell anyone so that there wouldn’t be a lot of questions for me.

  “Well, I got bad news, Andy. I’m moving tomorrow.” The words just came out. I don’t know what I was thinking or why I told him. Cora was going to kill me.

  “What? You’re messin’, right?”

  “No, seriously, my mom got transferred. They want her to be there as soon as possible. The moving truck is already packed and ready to go first thing in the morning.”

  Andy grinned at me. “Well, I guess we will have to make this a night you will never forget then, won’t we buddy?”

  “No, I can’t,” I said. I took my bag of food from him and grabbed the chocolate shake sitting on the wall next to him.

  “Um, yes you can and yes you will and that’s that! I’ll be by at 8:00 to pick you up.”

  “Do you know where I live?” I asked.

  “Eh, I’ll figure it out,” he replied.

  Andy walked in the back door, leaving me alone holding the bag of food. I stood there for a minute stunned. I felt a sudden wave of panic set in. What was I going to tell Cora? I had broken one of the main rules.

  Driving back home with Cora was complete torture. I almost ran two stop signs. I hoped that she wouldn’t look up from her planner to talk to me. Hiding anything from her was next to impossible. Her motherly instincts had become fine-tuned over the years.

  We got home and Cora continued to study her planner as we walked in. I put the bag of food on the table in the empty kitchen.

  “Nicholas, where’s my shake?”

  “Ugh, I forgot to bring it in. It’s in the truck. Sorry, Cora, I’ll go get it.”

  She looked up from her planner. “Nicholas, is there something wrong? You’ve been acting strange the whole ride home.”

  “No, everything is fine. I just hate moving day.”

  “I know you do, but everything will be fine.” She walked up to me and put her hand on my face. “I promise.”

  We sat in silence eating our food.

  “Andy got our food for us for free?”

  “Yes!” I said a little too loudly.

  “Well, that sure was nice of him.” She smiled, but then went back to reading her planner.

  We continued to eat in silence. Right when I had worked up the courage to tell her about my conversation with Andy, she said, “Nicholas, we are moving about two hours from our hometown this time. It’s a pretty nice town, and the school is incredible.”

  The doorbell rang. Cora jumped to her feet, nearly knocking over her chair.

  “Cora, it’s Andy,” I called to her before she reached the door.

  “Andy’s here?” Cora asked as she opened the door. “Good evening, Andy. What can I do for you?”

  “Hello, Ms. Keller. I’m here to take Nick out for, you know, one last night of fun!” His words were like fingernails going down a chalkboard, causing me to wince at each word.

  “Last night of fun?” Cora said, sounding surprised. She opened the door wider so we could both stand in the doorway facing Andy.

  “Mom, I told Andy that we’re moving.” I didn’t look at her, fearing that her look would turn me to stone.

  “Yeah, we’re going to have a little party for Nick,” Andy chimed in.

  Cora paused for a moment. It seemed like the longest couple of seconds of my life.

  “Well, okay. You boys have a great time. Nicholas—”

  I looked up at her.

  “Make sure you are home by 5 a.m.” She smiled and winked.

  “Don’t worry, Ms. K. I’ll get him home early enough.” Andy laughed, grabbed my arm, and pulled me out the door.

  What just happened? Why didn’t she send Andy home and then lecture me about how she was just trying to protect me? This had to be some sort of test and I had just failed miserably.

  Then something else popped into my head—we are moving two hours from our hometown. Cora is moving us closer to our hometown, the one place she insisted we always had to stay as far away from as possible. With the entire country to choose from, she chose a place only two hours away. What was going on? My head began to hurt thinking about Cora’s sudden change of personality and rules. I turned my attention back to Andy.

  “I know you’re not having a party for me. You’ve only known I was moving for a couple of hours.”

  “Did I say have a party? I meant crash a party!”

  “Whose?”

  “Marshall Jenkins!” He grinned mischievously.

  “Wait a minute. He’s a senior, and the last time I checked, we were lowly freshmen.”

  “We aren’t exactly going in,” he said with that same grin.

  “So what are we going to do, just sit on the stairs and watch them? Oh boy, I think I’d rather pack.”

  “Nick, leave it to me. We’ll have fun. Trust me!”

  The night was extremely hot and muggy. The clouds that covered the sky trapped in the heat, making it unbearable for an August night. The humidity was stifling. The thick dark clouds hid the remaining light from the sunset and any light from the moon or stars. It became dark quickly.

  The thirty-minute walk to Marshall’s house took a lot less time than usual because Andy would randomly ring the doorbell of houses, which resulted in a mad dash not to get caught. The darkness that the clouds provided helped, because before people answered their doors, we were running down the street, swallowed by the night. It was very childish, but fun. I had missed out on all of this type of stuff over the last five years.

  Marshall’s house had cars everywhere—in the front yard, in the driveway, and up and down the street. All of the lights were on in the large two-story brick home. Andy ducked down and ran toward the back of the house. I followed him. Andy was hiding behind two large bushes along the back fence where the light of the house didn’t reach.

  “So what now?” I whispered.

  “I was just making sure they were all in the backyard.”

  “Why?” I asked, not sure if I really wanted to hear the answer.

  “Because when we smear this toothpaste on their car windows,” he said as he pulled out two tubes of wintergreen toothpaste from his pocket, “I don’t want any interruptions.” He handed me a tube and smiled like he was filming a toothpaste commercial. “It helps fight plaque and bad breathe and cleans even the dirtiest of senior trash.” He laughed and ran by me.

  I followed him to the front where he started smearing the toothpaste all over the car windows. I pretended to smear toothpaste on some of the cars, but only the ones farthest away from the house and Andy. My stomach was hurting horribly, like I had an ulcer burning a hole in it. I was scared of getting caught, which I knew had something to do with how I was feeling.

  Andy moved over to a car I recognized, Marshall’s black Mustang. Getting back at Marshall for all of the stuff
he did to Andy over the years was the real reason why we were here. Getting to prank all of the other cars was a bonus. Andy hated Marshall. He had tormented him for years. And to make matters worse, they had been good friends and neighbors when they were younger.

  Andy was like an artist moving around Marshall’s Mustang so fluidly, so gracefully, not missing a spot. The wintergreen paste made the car sparkle. I could smell its faint scent in the air. Then Andy started to put some type of round pink circles all over the car. I was too far away to tell what they were, and I was not about to get closer to find out. I ran back to the bushes at the side of the house to wait. A couple of minutes later, Andy joined me.

  “What did you put on Marshall’s car?” I asked.

  “Bologna!”

  “What?”

  “Bologna! I thought it would complement the toothpaste, and it did! You know bologna polka dots are the new rage in automotive design,” he whispered. We both laughed silently.

  I turned my attention toward the party in Marshall’s backyard. I found myself envious of all those people having a good time together. How fitting. I was in hiding, watching everyone else live life to the fullest. Just like my life. Hiding . . .

  Marshall had an incredible deck that covered the entire back of the house, a huge grill, and a hot tub that could easily fit twenty people. Beyond the deck was a regulation-sized basketball court, and beyond that was a huge lake. There was a dock with two large ski boats. Most of the party was either in the lake swimming or on the dock watching. Someone suddenly yelled, “Skinny dipping!” from the deck. A group of guys pulled off all of their clothes, ran naked toward the lake, and jumped off the dock into the water. A wave of laughing and screaming came from the lake.

  Andy looked at me like he just had a brilliant idea with the light bulb still shining above his head. “I’m going for their clothes!”

  Before I could stop him, he was over the fence. He was like a human vacuum, grabbing every piece of clothing he passed. He was halfway across the back deck when someone shouted, “Look!” from the dock. He was nearly to the other side of the yard by the time they started getting out of the water. He threw the clothes over the fence, hopped over, and disappeared.

  I sprinted to the front of the house. Andy was running down the middle of the street, dropping clothes as he went. I ran up to Andy, grabbed him, and pulled him into a side yard a couple of houses down from Marshall’s. We slid down into a ditch. Andy was terrified. His face was frozen with fear and he was shaking violently. He was breathing hard, but not loud enough to drown out the angry screams coming from Marshall’s front yard. They had just seen their cars and they were mad!

  “Let’s go!” Andy whispered to me in a shaky, out of breath voice.

  “No,” I said. “We need to stay here to see which way they’ll go before we move.”

  Cars began to leave one at a time. We waited for twenty minutes. Only two cars remained in the driveway when we finally popped our heads out of the ditch. Andy had calmed down, but he was still shaking.

  The last two cars roared to life, and in front of them was a large group of guys. I could barely make out how many there were from where we were hiding. This had to be the search party to track us down.

  “We should have run when we had the chance,” Andy said. “We would have made it.”

  “Maybe, but they would have seen us,” I said very confidently.

  “What do you care? You are moving!” He was right. I would have been gone, never to see them again.

  “Well, you were nice enough to throw this great going away party for me. I had to thank you in some way.”

  Andy flashed a nervous smile. The engine of Marshall’s Mustang roared, sending a wave of panic through Andy. His expression changed back to fear, but I didn’t feel scared at all. I was calm. I was in complete control, but I didn’t know why. I was usually a worrier and this was definitely a time to worry.

  The angry mob, minus the torches and pitchforks, got into the cars. Both of the cars went in opposite directions, very slowly down the street. I could feel Andy starting to get up. I easily pinned him down with my arm, making sure he didn’t try to run. He squirmed for a second and then stopped.

  The car passed by us slowly. Beams of light came from inside the car searching for us. They were almost out of sight before I let go of him.

  “Gosh, Nick, next time you want me to stay, just say so! There’s no reason to crush me,” Andy said, rubbing his chest.

  “Sorry, I thought you were going to run for it and blow our cover.”

  “Well, we better start running now before they come back!” he said.

  All of the houses in Marshall’s neighborhood had fences in their backyards, so we could only run from front yard to front yard. Then we could duck into the woods at the end of his street.

  “Nick, you have to admit that this is one night you’ll never forget.”

  “Yeah, seeing you run down the middle of the street with those clothes was pretty funny. It looked like you had just robbed a laundromat!”

  We stopped jogging after a couple of minutes and walked for a while, making sure to stay close to the fronts of the houses to try to stay hidden. Up ahead I saw the woods. We were only about ten houses away when I heard the familiar growl of Marshall’s Mustang behind us. We both began to run as fast as we could. If we made it to the tree line, we would be in the clear. The car was not far behind us, and they were gaining on us quickly. The car accelerated. I realized that they were not on the road anymore, but in the front yards. They didn’t want to catch us; they wanted to hit us!

  Andy was now down by the street for some reason, making him an easy target. I was closer to the front of the houses. The car lunged forward to hit Andy. Suddenly my muscles tensed hard, jerking my body toward Andy with an incredible burst of speed. I was moving as fast as the Mustang, maybe even faster. I yanked him behind a large tree. In that moment, Andy’s body was like a rag doll. It moved without any resistance. He had no choice but to do as I wanted.

  We kept sprinting toward the tree line. A second later, I heard a sound like an explosion. I turned to see that the car had hit the tree head-on. Pieces like shrapnel from a bomb went flying in different directions. The Mustang was wrapped around the large oak tree. They had swerved to hit us and hit the tree instead.

  Andy had already made it into the woods. I stopped. I had to make sure they were okay. The Mustang’s doors swung open, and one by one everyone stumbled out of the car onto the lawn. No one looked really hurt; they had some scratches but that was it. Porch lights from several houses flicked on. I ran into the woods to find Andy.

  “Hey, Nick! Over here!” He was leaning against a tree. “What were you thinking? Did you want to get caught?”

  “No, I was making sure that they weren’t hurt.”

  “Hurt? Are you kidding? They tried to kill us! Did that slip your mind?” He looked disgusted, then turned and started to walk.

  We walked in silence for most of the way home. He was mad at me for checking on Marshall and his friends. I would have tried to make him understand, but I was preoccupied with wondering how I had saved him from getting hit by Marshall’s Mustang. The question lingered in my mind most of the way home. My muscles were still sore from the sudden explosion of speed.

  Five minutes from my house, Andy stopped and turned to me. “Well, have a nice life, Nick. Stop by Rukker’s if you’re ever in the neighborhood.”

  “Sure, if I’m in the neighborhood,” I said. He smiled and walked off.

  I turned toward my house where I knew Cora would be waiting for me. The lecture about how I had broken the rules would be horrible. I wasn’t scared about being hit by the car, but walking through the front door made me sick to my stomach. Maybe I should have let the car hit me to save me from what lies ahead.

 

  I opened the door very slowly, careful not to make a sound. I was praying Cora had fallen asleep while she was waiting to kil
l me.

  “So how was your night?” Cora’s question sent me flying across the floor. “Wow! Someone’s jumpy!” Cora was standing in the kitchen door, staring at me with her arms crossed. I couldn’t tell if she was mad or not.

  She turned and walked into the kitchen. I followed her. Cora was packing the last of the glasses into a box.

  “We went over to Andy’s house,” I said.

  “Well, that sounds fun, but I thought there was going to be a party.” She didn’t turn to face me. She just continued packing.

  “Oh yeah, after Andy’s we went over to a friend’s house for the party.”

  “Oh, okay. It sounds like fun. You should go up and try to get some sleep. I put your toothbrush in the downstairs bathroom, and the inflatable bed is already set up in your room.”

  “Thanks,” I said, dumbfounded. I escaped to the bathroom and shut the door. Why didn’t I get in trouble? I thought as I was brushing my teeth.

  The inflatable mattress was in the middle of my dark, empty room. It was comfortable, but I still couldn’t sleep. The ceiling was staring back at me as hard as I was staring up at it.

  The next morning came too early. The alarm clock was buzzing a loud, obnoxious buzz. The clock on the floor said 4:30 a.m. Cora must have set it for me.

  I was sick. I didn’t want to sit up too fast because I was sure I would throw up all over the floor. How come I was always sick? You would think that I’d get used to feeling this way, especially after waking up like this every morning for the last five years. I used to tell Cora about being sick, but it happened so frequently that I just accepted it as part of me and saved her from all the gory details.

  The sickness forced me to lie very still, making me unable to move in fear of getting sicker. I searched along the side of the inflatable bed for the only thing that helped me feel better, the only way I could cope with this horrible morning curse. My hand hit something that made a familiar, soothing rattling sound. My Tic Tacs. I popped three into my mouth, and the cool mint flavor started to make me feel better almost instantly. I sat up. On the floor next to me I saw a pair of khaki shorts and my favorite orange Izod shirt that Cora had bought me before school started last year. She must have laid them out for me last night after she was done packing the kitchen. I put my clothes on slowly and deflated the bed, still feeling kind of sick.

  I could smell Cora’s coffee brewing. The smell turned my stomach, making me feel worse, but I was used to it now after waking up to that smell for the last five years. I’m positive that Starbucks has made most of its money from Cora.

  I tenderly ventured down to the kitchen.

  “Hey, sleepyhead, how did you sleep?” Cora was leaning against the kitchen counter, drinking her coffee and looking over her planner.

  “I don’t think I slept.”

  “Do you want something to eat?” she asked.

  The question turned my stomach, again making me grab a couple more Tic Tacs. “No, I’m fine, thanks.” She knew I was sick. That’s why I had a fresh pack of Tic Tacs next to the bed. She knew me well. “Cora, do we have anything else to put into the truck?”

  “No, I did it all last night. Just grab the stuff in your room and anything you have in the bathroom. I’ll grab the coffee maker, and we will be on our way.”

  I walked back upstairs and got the deflated mattress, my clock, and the clothes I had worn the night before. I grabbed my toothbrush from the downstairs bathroom and walked out of the house. I didn’t notice last night when I was brushing my teeth, but I had used the same toothpaste Andy had used on the cars at Marshall’s party. This brought a smile to my face.

  Cora was already outside. She was hooking up the light to the towing trailer for our old Ford truck. “Nicholas, just throw that stuff in the back of the moving truck.”

  I shoved the stuff in the small space behind the passenger seat and walked back over to where Cora was standing. She took my hand, closed her eyes, and said in a whisper, “God bless this house and the people who will live here. Please guide us, and may we have safe travels to our new home.” She squeezed my hand and just like that, we were off. I always wanted to ask her why she prayed the same prayer, but I figured it was something between her and God.

  We were leaving town right as the sun rose. The truck bounced every time it hit a crack. The constant jarring reminded me of how my mom used to rock me and sing to me before bed when I was small. I reclined my seat, put my feet up on the dash, and let the truck rock me to sleep.

  I was suddenly surrounded by darkness, the same darkness that haunted all my dreams. It was a suffocating, never-ending pressure that covered my entire body, not allowing me to move. I was paralyzed as usual, but this time it was different. The darkness was the same suffocating pressure, but it was like a black smoke surrounding me, not the usual nothingness. I sucked the thick putrid smoke into my lungs. My muscles tensed to fight against it, to expel it out of my lungs. During my struggle, I could feel each muscle in my body pushing against the darkness, and there was a bitter acidic taste in the back of my throat. My lungs seized, and I spit the putrid smoke out, gasping for air.

  “Nicholas, are you okay? Wake up! It’s just a dream, hon.” Cora was shaking me with her free hand. I took a deep breath. The truck air burned my lungs. I gagged, almost vomiting into my lap.

  “Nicholas, your Tic Tacs are on the dashboard.”

  She didn’t wait for me to reach for them. She thrust the pack into my hand. I opened it and dumped almost half the pack into my mouth. Cora cracked my window and I leaned up against it. The combination of Tic Tacs and fresh air helped me recover from the dream. I waited a couple of minutes with my eyes closed and then put my seat up.

  “Feeling better?”

  I nodded, not able to speak yet.

  “Well, let’s talk about where we are moving. That should get your mind off of being sick and your bad dreams. You are going to love our new place. Well, not that we didn’t love the other places, but this place is not a small town. It’s bigger.” Cora was talking to me like she was talking to one of her girlfriends about some juicy piece of gossip. She continued, “It actually has a mall, movie theaters, and nice restaurants. Can you believe it?” I would have laughed if I had been feeling better.

  Cora bought all of our stuff on the Shopping Channel and the Internet. She even got most of our groceries from the Internet, too. So to have a place big enough for her to shop and still be able to blend in sounded like heaven for her. Yet I knew that even though she had those new places nearby, she still wouldn’t use them. And the restaurants were nothing; she could do better herself. She was a gourmet cook. So her excitement over these places was more of a hope and dream of hers than a reality.

  “Now, the average class size will be around 400 students, not the 100 you have been accustomed to.”

  “Why are we moving to a bigger town? I thought that there is less chance of people recognizing us and discovering my secret in a small town.”

  “Well,” said Cora, “I wanted to see how we would do in a bigger town. Plus, you need to be around more people.”

  This went against everything she had taught me for the last five years. We were supposed to live in a small town, not get close to anyone, and blend in. Cora said that small-town folk know how to keep to themselves.

  “Who are you, and what have you done with my aunt?” I said, feeling panicked by the sudden change.

  She laughed, never looking away from the road. “Honey, I am the same loving, beautiful, intelligent Aunt Cora you’ve always known. You are getting older, and you know how to keep our secrets, so it is time for more responsibility.”

  “Well, how do you know I’m ready? I could have messed up everything last night. I told Andy that we were moving, and then I went to a party and we—”

  “Shh, Nicholas,” Cora hushed me. “Nothing happened, did it?”

  “Something could’ve happened,” I said.

  “I have to admit it w
as hard for me to just stand there and bite my tongue. I really wanted to grab your hand, slam the door, and remind you of everything I’ve taught you for the last five years.” A wave of relief washed over me knowing she wanted to stop me. She continued without seeing the smile on my face. “But, I smiled and let you handle the situation, and see, it worked out just fine. Maybe not how I would have done it,” she added, “but it still worked out. Some habits are going to be hard to break.” Cora grabbed my hand and squeezed. That was her way of telling me that she loved me and everything was all right.

  “Cora, what’s the name of the city we are moving to?” I asked.

  “Winsor, Illinois, home of the Winsor Cougars.”

  I recognized the name of the town because my dad used to take us camping there. “Do you think it’s okay to move so close to the place that we are hiding from, our home?”

  “It’s a hundred miles away. We will be just fine.”

  We were close to the halfway mark of our trip when a rest stop appeared up ahead. We pulled off to eat and to stretch our legs. The sky was bright blue with no clouds to be seen. It looked like a Florida sky. A light breeze helped take the edge off the heat of the early morning sun. Cora grabbed the cooler from behind her seat and walked over to the covered picnic area.

  The rest stop looked like every other rest stop I had ever seen. There were only a couple of cars and trucks parked at the far end of the lot. In front of the restrooms was an older couple reading what looked like a map. Cora had unpacked my roast beef, pickle, and mustard sandwich and her PB&J. Both sandwiches looked more like small mountains because of the homemade bread she used for them. We each got a bag of pretzels and a bottle of water.

  This had been our moving meal for the last five years. I always thought it was funny because I ate the adult-type sandwich and she ate the kid sandwich. Even though it was on fancy bread, it was still PB&J. This lunch was the beginning of our New Year, our January First without the silly New Year’s resolutions. We were starting over, moving. No friends or family to call when we got there to say we arrived safely. This was the beginning, the starting over point.

  “Cora, I am going to go wash up.”

  Cora looked up from her sandwich, surveying the entire area and then centering her attention on the older couple.

  “Cora, they are a harmless little old couple.”

  She smiled. “Go ahead.”

  I walked over to where the couple was standing. The woman looked very frail. She was holding a map. If a strong breeze came along, I was sure she would be carried away. The man was almost double her size and well built for someone of his age. She made eye contact with me and I smiled.

  I walked by them and into the bathroom. The water felt so good over my hands. I splashed some on my face.

  “Excuse me.”

  I looked up with water still in my eyes. I grabbed a paper towel and wiped my eyes. The man from outside was right behind me. I spun around.

  “Son, my wife wants to ask you a question before you leave. I told her that you would be out eventually, but she insisted on me coming in here and asking you to come out.” I was stunned. “Yeah, I know what you are thinking because I’m thinking the same thing, but you don’t stay married to the same woman for 48 years by doing what you want to do.” He turned and left the bathroom.

  There was no other way to get out of the bathroom except the main entrance. I knew that if I ran into any problem with them, Cora would be within shouting distance. I took a deep breath and walked out to face them. “Excuse me, ma’am. Did you need something?”

  “Oh, yes, young man. I asked Herbert to make sure I could ask you a question because I didn’t want to bother you unless it was okay.”

  I looked at her husband, and he shrugged his shoulders and looked back at the map that she had been holding before. Just past him on the highway, a sea green pick-up truck had pulled over on the shoulder. I couldn’t see who was in it, but I felt uneasy, like I was being watched. The woman leaned in close to me so only I could hear her, bringing my attention back to her.

  “You are him?” she whispered. My heart started to race. “I just wanted to say thank you.” She stepped back away from me and smiled. I didn’t know what to say, so I smiled and turned around, walking toward Cora who was now standing up, staring at me intently. I glanced over my shoulder to see if the truck was still there, but it was gone. When I reached her, my heart had almost stopped racing.

  “What was that about?” She was still standing, staring at the couple that was now walking toward their car.

  “Cora, it’s okay. They just wanted to know if I knew the best way to get to Cincinnati.” Cora’s body relaxed after a moment and she sat back down across from me.

  I had eaten my entire sandwich and was starting on my pretzels when Cora said, “Hey, look at that!” She was pointing at a large billboard on the highway. There was a group of football players, all in green and gold uniforms and not wearing helmets. In the center of them was a tall, blond player holding a football in his hands, definitely the showcased player on the sign. Above them in large black words was “Cougar Football. Winning isn’t everything—it’s the ONLY thing.” Then it hit me. She was not showing me the billboard to get a laugh out of me because of the corny saying, but to show me that it was the school that I would be attending.

  “Winsor Cougars. You’re sending me to a school where sports, not just any sport, but football is this important?”

  “You know I would never send you to a sports factory. Winsor is top in the state for its academics. Just because their sports are good, doesn’t mean their academics are sub-par.”

  She packed up the lunch leftovers and cleaned everything on and under the table because she was agitated. She would have weeded around the shelter if we weren’t on a schedule.

  We continued on our way. Fifty miles from our lunch stop there was another Cougar football sign with another corny sports saying and the same blond male-model of a football player. After about the fifth sign I said, “You know, I can’t wait to see the billboards with the chess team on them or the quiz team. I can see their slogan: ‘Studying isn’t everything—it’s the ONLY thing.’” Cora shot me a dirty look, then giggled.

  “Hey! We’re here!” Cora pointed to a large wooden sign that said “Welcome to Winsor” with a large rainbow painted on it. Then a metal sign over the road read “Winsor Exit Ahead One Mile on the Right.”

  “Now remember, the first thing we need to do when we get there is—”

  “I know. Unpack the boxes quickly into the house, so we can move the truck to the back of the house, so we don’t draw any attention.”

  “As I was saying before I was so rudely interrupted, we need to unpack, go get some dinner, and then go to bed early to get some rest because we have to register you for school tomorrow at 8:00 a.m. sharp.”

  “So let me guess. We are moving into a two-story house with elaborate landscaping, a wraparound porch, a long driveway, and a place to hide the truck in back. And, the color of the house is going to be a shade of yellow. I almost forgot, no neighbors close by and surrounded by woods.”

  Cora didn’t answer immediately. She was concentrating on the road signs we were passing. “Well, you are all wrong. The house is beige . . . with some yellow accents,” she said with a smile. “Okay, we are getting close . . . 2022 . . . 2024, there it is, 2024 Trailwind Drive.”

  We pulled into the long driveway. It looked like our last house and all the ones before it, which was scary. It looked like someone ripped our old house off its foundation and dropped it right here. Except for the color and some of the landscaping, it was identical. The sun was muted by the large trees that surrounded the house; very little of the sun’s light reached the ground. It was only around 5:30 p.m., but it looked like 8:00. Cora must have loved the fact that the trees blocked our view of our neighbors’ houses down the road.

  “I can’t believe they still have the sign in the yard,” Cor
a said. I knew Cora would have told the realtor weeks ago to take any signs out of the yard. That was part of her plan to get us into our new house with no evidence of a house for sale or a “sold” sign in the yard.

  “Nicholas, get out and grab that sign.” Whenever she said my name with every syllable heard clearly, she was really mad. I got out and pulled the “just sold” sign with a picture of what I guessed was the realtor out of the ground. I put it on the side of the house away from Cora. Cora was already out and undoing the restraints for our truck. She unlatched it and backed it off the tow ramp. I removed the tow bar and rolled up the back door to start unloading. Cora and I swiftly moved all of the labeled boxes inside to the appropriate room in the house. Then we moved in what little furniture we had. We could definitely show up any moving company. We had this moving thing down to a science.

  “Nicholas, will you go around to the front door and put out our door mat?”

  I carried the mat to the front of the house. Sitting on our doorstep was a basket of cookies and fruit with a big bow and a note that said “Welcome to the Winds.”

  Cora had moved the truck to the back of the house. She was already inside when I walked through the back door carrying the big basket. Cora was busy unpacking the kitchen. I laid the basket right in the middle of the kitchen table. She caught sight of the basket out of the corner of her eye, and her face turned a deep shade of red. She continued unpacking, ignoring the large welcome basket on the table. She looked like a kid holding her breath until she got her way. It was funny.

  I finished putting everything away that went in the family room and bathrooms. Cora and I had decided earlier to get dinner from Ethan’s when we were driving through town. It was one of those chain restaurants that exist in every major city around the U.S., serving the best of American cuisine. I knew that exactly a year from now Ethan’s would be my last meal here in this town. It was a very depressing thought to know that nothing here would last longer than a year. We got our food and then returned home. The large basket had disappeared off the kitchen table.

  After we ate, Cora said, “Goodnight, Nicholas. I am heading up to bed; see you in the morning.” She walked upstairs and disappeared into her room. Cora had already pulled down the shades in the house. I locked all the doors, turned off the downstairs lights, and went to bed.

 

  The next morning was like all the ones before, but just in a new town. I woke up sick, grabbing my Tic Tacs, and Cora was brewing her favorite Starbucks blend.

  “Nicholas, do you want any breakfast? I can whip up an omelet or even a Belgian waffle with some homemade blueberry syrup.”

  I held up my hand to make her stop talking. “Cora, as long as we’ve been together, when have I ever wanted to eat breakfast?” I said, praying not to get any sicker.

  “Well, I was hoping this new house and town would make you feel better, more relaxed.”

  “Cora, when I feel well enough to eat in the morning, I promise you’ll be the first to know.”

  “Okay then, let’s go get you registered,” she said, filling her mug with the rest of the coffee from the pot.

  Backing out of the driveway, I saw the welcome basket. It was sticking out of our trash bin. Cora must have thrown it out when I wasn’t looking. Typical.

  Twenty minutes had passed and we were at the school. “Are you sure you got the right place?” I asked. The sign said “Winsor High School,” but it had to be a mistake.

  “Nicholas, I know it’s bigger than the other schools, but—”

  “Are you kidding? It’s the size of an amusement park,” I interrupted.

  “It might be bigger than what you are used to, but it’s the same as the rest of the schools. This will help you when you go off to college.”

  The school was not only big, but it was incredibly landscaped. It had a large fountain in the middle of the parking lot, topped by a bronze statue of a man with a football under his arm. The entire parking lot looked freshly blacktopped, and there were a dozen guys painting lines to make up the individual parking spots. When we drove by a crew painting the lines, I could see that each white divider line was not solid, but a group of words. Each line read, “The Home of the Mighty Winsor Cougars.” Along with the painting crews, there were dozens of two-man landscaping crews manicuring the grounds. Colorful shrubs and trees lined the parking lot and school. There were even a couple of people polishing the bronze statue. The only things missing from this school were roller coasters and waterslides.

  “Okay now, when we get in there, let me do all the talking,” Cora said.

  “I know. It’s the same as last year and every year before that.”

  “Well, I’m just making sure you remember, smart-aleck.”

  We parked in the visitors’ lot next to the main entrance.

  The main entrance was just as elaborate as the rest of the school. It was surrounded by large yellow rose bushes all in full bloom. Right in the center of the walkway was a large flagpole with one of the biggest American flags I had ever seen. We crossed the street and stepped onto the slate-like decorative concrete that led from the visitors’ lot to the entrance. We walked up to the large glass doors, and they opened automatically. We walked into the main lobby. For how incredible the outside was, the inside of the school was nothing special. It looked like any typical high school. Actually, my last school was nicer. This one had tacky, orange-patterned carpet that you would find in a bank, and the walls were a mix of brick and metal panels painted a sterile off-white.

  “Hello. My name is Cora Keller. I’m here to finish registering my son, Nicholas, for school.”

  The secretary didn’t even look up. She spoke in a monotone voice, like a recording from an old answering machine. “Please fill out the green form to the right, and make sure we have proof of your current address and a current physical if the student is going to participate in any extracurricular activities.” Then she continued to type, never looking up at us.

  “I already filled out the paperwork and sent it in with the physical a month ago,” said Cora.

  “Oh, well then,” the secretary said, looking up, “please have your son go around the corner and down the hall. The Guidance Office is on the right. He needs to meet with his counselor to work on his class schedule, and then he can get his school ID.”

  “Oh, we already discussed his schedule and sent that in too, so I guess we can get his ID and be on our way.”

  “Ms. Keller, he has to meet with his counselor. All new students have to when they enroll here.”

  “We are in a hurry. We have lots of errands to run today to get settled into our new house.” Cora sounded uneasy. I knew she didn’t want me to be questioned by anyone when she wasn’t around.

  “Mom, it will be quick since you already sent everything in.” I took her hand. She held on to it tightly and gave me a look that said, “Don’t tell them anything, and be nothing special.”

  I walked around the corner and down the hallway. On the right was a sign that said “Guidance Office.” I entered through another glass door.

  “Hi, my name is Nicholas Keller. I’m a new student. I’m supposed to meet my counselor.” The secretary was very old and almost invisible behind her computer screen. Her thick glasses had a long chain around her neck. She stood slowly, using the desk as a crutch. She was unable to stand up completely.

  “Please wait right there, young man. I’ll go and see if your counselor, Joy Lemmins, is available to see you.” She turned slowly and walked down a narrow hall behind her desk. There were several offices on both sides of the hall. She stopped halfway down the hall, glanced in one of the offices, turned around to face me and walked back to me slowly. “Nicholas, Ms. Lemmins is ready to see you.”

  I walked past her and down the hall. I looked back, and she was already at her desk working.

  “Nicholas Keller, right?” The voice was coming out of the office to my left. “Come on in and shut the door.”

  Th
e door was covered in white paper and had different, colorful shapes and words all over it. It looked like a bulletin board from a kindergarten classroom. Joy Lemmins was standing behind her desk. She was short and stocky with frizzy blonde hair going everywhere. She had thick red-rimmed glasses that framed her round, pale face. If anyone needed to be outside to get some sun, she did. Her office was outrageously decorated. There were lava lamps, strings of beads, and a large red pleather bean bag chair in the corner. I could smell something like sugar cookies, but I couldn’t see where it was coming from. Her office looked like a little kid had decorated it.

  “Please get cozy, so we can get to know each other.” She pointed at the bean bag chair, but I chose the normal chair in front of her desk. Her lips puckered together and then shifted to one side. I guess she wasn’t happy with my choice of seating.

  She wasn’t bothered long, because she sat down and began to speak with a large, toothy smile. “My name is Joy Lemmins. I’m going to be your counselor and friend here at Winsor High, home of the mighty Cougars.” Then she let out a small roar and swiped her hand through the air. I guess she was doing her Cougar impression. Scary.

  “So where are you from, Nicholas?”

  “We just moved here from Tatesville, Ohio.”

  “Oh goodness, that sounds like a pleasant place. It must be really nice. Was it hard moving away from your friends? That must have broken your wittle heart.”

  “No, the move has been okay, and my little heart is just fine.” What was wrong with this woman? If Cora was in here, I think she would have smacked her by now.

  “So why did you move here?”

  “My mom was transferred.”

  “Okay, what company is that?” She had a piece of paper out; it looked like she was taking notes. What was with all of these questions? She knew all of these answers, because they were in my school file. Cora always made sure to give them plenty of information on me so that people would not ask me these types of questions.

  “Excuse me, Ms. Lemmins. Not to be rude, but I thought that we were just going to go over my class schedule.”

  “Oh yes, we are, deary. I was just trying to get to know you better so we can become pals.”

  Did she just say she wanted to be pals? The look on my face must have given me away.

  “Don’t you want to be pals?” she asked, like I had just hurt her feelings.

  I ignored her question and looked down, hoping to avoid the question altogether. “Sorry, Ms. Lemmins, I just don’t like to talk much. I’m kind of shy.”

  Joy Lemmins was now peering through her red-rimmed glasses down at some papers on her desk. A minute passed and I began to feel uneasy.

  “Sooooo, are you on track with your academics?” Before I could answer, she said, “Yes, yes, yes, you are, you are.” She wasn’t talking to me, but to herself, and the scary thing was that she was answering back. She pulled off her glasses and squinted at me. “Mr. Keller, your classes look fine. You are taking a very difficult class load, but based on your past transcripts it looks like you can handle it. Hmmmmm, but something is missing, missing, missing.” Her voice whined and trailed off.

  “Ms. Lemmins, I can get whatever you’re missing. My mom is out in the lobby.” I stood up.

  “No, sit down, Nicky. I don’t think your mom can help because she doesn’t have what I’m looking for. It’s not a piece of paper, but something you haven’t done.” She put her glasses back on, folded her arms, and leaned back in her large chair, nearly tipping it over.

  “I haven’t done something, Ms. Lemmins?”

  “Extracurricular activities is what you haven’t done, my boy. You know, a club, a sport, or something. I know you’ve moved a lot, but you need to think about college. Great grades are only half of the equation.” Joy Lemmins continued to ramble on about what colleges are looking for, but I didn’t hear her. She was right. I hadn’t really done anything but go to school. Then I remembered something I did.

  I blurted out, interrupting her ramblings, “I play football. Well, I try to.”

  “Oh, football,” she said like she just smelled some rotten food. “Well, that’s not my first choice, but it’s a start.” The disappointment in her voice was evident. I bet she was hoping for Glee Club or Science Club. “I believe football started a week ago, but I’ll see what I can do.”

  She picked up the phone. I couldn’t believe I hadn’t noticed it before; her phone was completely covered with multi-colored gems. It shouldn’t have surprised me that her phone looked the way it did, because it matched the rest of the room. Crazy.

  “Yes, Gregory. I have a new student here who would like to try out for the football squad. Yes, Gregory, I’m well aware that you already started, but he didn’t have a choice. He just moved here with his mommy. Yes, he has his physical. Okay, Gregory, that’s super-duper, thanks. Yes, yes, I will let Mr. Keller know.” She hung up the phone.

  “Nicholas, you are all set. You start football tryouts tomorrow at 8:00 a.m. on the practice fields on the side of the school. If that doesn’t work out, I would like for you to consider something a little less barbaric. Oh yes, Gregory wants to make sure you are ready for hard work, because if you’re not, he said and I quote, ‘Don’t waste our time by coming in the morning,’” she said in her best rough man voice, and then she growled.

  I stood quickly. “Thanks Ms. Lemmins.” I grabbed my ID from her desk and hurried out of her office to escape.

  Cora was sitting in the lobby looking extremely anxious. Her legs were bouncing up and down.

  “Mom, are you ready?”

  Cora looked up at me with relief and met me at the front door. “Why were you in there so long? I was going to come in there and get you. I was worried.”

  “Don’t worry. I avoided her questions and tried to blend in, but . . .”

  “But what?”

  “I have football tryouts tomorrow,” I said, not knowing how she would respond.

  Cora waited until we were in the truck to say anything else.

  “You know you don’t have to try out for the football team here.” Cora’s words stung. She knew the reason why I played, or more accurately, sat on the bench. Dad had been a great football player, captain of the team. So if I couldn’t be with him, at least we could have this in common.

  “Listen, Nicholas, football is taken more seriously around here. It’s not like the other schools. They actually have cuts.”

  “Cora, I know I’m not good, but I would like to try.” I looked out the window, trying to hide my anger mixed with grief. Thinking about my parents made me sad, reminding me of how much I missed them.

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