Lynn, Massachusetts
I climbed down the train steps and surveyed my new surroundings. It was a chilly evening. The grey cement walls were covered in spray painted gang symbols, there was trash piled in corners and a bum underneath a wet, limp cardboard box. It was certainly not the kind of place in which one would want to hang out. I squinted to see if I spotted Aunt Millie. She’d said she was stout with short reddish-brown hair. So, I looked for an obese woman with cheaply dyed red hair. I didn’t have to be a genius to know when someone was seasoning their words with salt. I was the queen when it came to showy words and false compliments.
Besides the bum and some rowdy teenagers, there were only three people waiting and none of them fit Aunt Millie’s description. So I sat down on a metal bench and dug in my box for my Addias jacket. I wrapped myself up and crossed my arms. I’d really have to get used to this weather. It felt like winter in Florida and it was only summer in Lynn. Could you imagine winter time?
I looked down at my watch. It had been my one and only gift from my father since he’d left us five years ago. He’d said this way I’d be on time for things. It didn’t work. I just knew how late I was. It is always better to not know the time. (It’s easier to show up late and if someone says, “Do you know what time it is?” you can genuinely answer with, “No, I forgot my watch, what time is it? Am I late?” People forgive you when you leave your watch at home. Aunt Millie was an hour late. I wonder if she forgot her watch…)
I turned around and took another peek at the people congregating around the train station. There was a woman with three young children, an old man with a suitcase on wheels and a teenage boy about my age. He leaned against the ticket booth with his hands in his baggy jeans. He had on a Red Sox Jersey and a beanie cap shoved down over the top of his head. Did he have hair? Well, he had some facial hair. I squinted to see what was on the side of his arm; a tattoo maybe? He pulled his hands out of his pockets and cupped them around his mouth.
“Is there a Lisa Brown here?” He looked at me. I raised my hand. “You Lisa?” He asked again. I nodded. “Lisa Brown?”
“Yes, would you like to see my ID?” I rolled my eyes. “Who are you and where is Aunt Millie?”
“She had an emergency meeting to attend to. I’m Michael, one of the students at C I N Boarding School.” He crept closer. I could see his tattoo now. It said “C I N”. He had long brown hair underneath his beanie cap and it was a goatee that he sported on his face. He dug in his pocket and pulled out a package of cigarettes and a lighter.
I shook my head and frowned. “I thought the kids who went to C I N were geniuses.”
He smiled, catching on immediately. “When you’re as smart as me, the sooner you die the better. Besides that, I have an addictive personality. I can watch the same shows, read the same books, and do the same activities over and over. It’s sad, really.”
“Yeah, that is sad.”
Michael ignored me. He took my box and led the way out to the parking lot. He didn’t say anything else. His eyes studied the trees and sky. He seemed to be deep in thought or prayer maybe. Please save me from this dreadful female Floridian. Then again, he was a genius... Maybe he did have deep thoughts running through his mind.
“I have to stop at the store. Do you mind?” Michael opened the passenger side door of an old white Isuzu Pick-up truck.
“No, that’s cool.” I rolled up the window so that the chill didn’t freeze my face.
“I have a jacket you can borrow until you get a heavier one.” Michael offered. “It gets pretty chilly at night.”
“That’s okay, this one is good.”
Michael dug behind the seat and pulled out a wrinkled ski jacket. “Here, wear this.” He tossed it in my lap.
“Thanks.” I obeyed, overlapping my jacket with his. I placed my hands in front of the warm heat flowing through the vents. I wanted to tell him I was from Florida, that this was as cold as our winters ever got but he never asked where I was from or why I was so cold. He didn’t put the radio on either, just drove in silence.
I tapped my foot on the floorboards and whisked my fingers in front of the warm air as if I was conducting a symphony. Michael glanced at me. “So, Michael, what’s C I N like?” I practically sang. If he wasn’t going to entertain me, I’d have to just compromise.
“Like any other school, I guess. I’ve gone there since forever.” He turned off the highway and entered the Lynn City Limits. I shook my head and pounded my palms against his dashboard. He jumped. “What are you doing?”
“Wrong! Most kids live at home and not at their school. It can’t possibly be like every other school. It’s a ‘special’ school.”
Michael stared blankly.
He parked in front of a little food mart. “I’m going to get some milk. I’ll be right back.”
I dropped back against the seat and sighed. Michael was boring. I couldn’t imagine a bunch of Michaels all around me night and day for an entire school year. Thank goodness I was in my senior year of high school. I could leave Aunt Millie’s house as soon as I was eighteen and live on my own.
I looked out the window. Lynn smelled like fish. There were two seafood stands outside the old worn out buildings and overflowing garbage cans. Two glass windows next to the food mart were covered in spray painted obscenities. Bass and loud lyrics blared as two cars whizzed by. I saw a hooker loitering in the narrow alley behind the convenience store. Her eyes were red and empty.
Where had my mom sent me?
I glanced in the side mirror. A girl with long, stringy blond hair and thin red highlights glared at me. Her hands crossed over her chest. What was her problem? I turned around and pushed my face against the back window, puffing my cheeks out like a blowfish and waved. She narrowed her eyes and stomped away. I sat back down and laughed.
Michael climbed into the cab with his milk. He frowned. “That’s Ally. I wouldn’t get on her bad side if I were you. She’s what the C I N kids call our personal Nazi Commandant.”
“Oh.”
We drove through thick woods and around a large lake. There was an old stone school with a faded sign that said ‘C I N Boarding School”. The school sat behind the lake. Two small cottages were on the other side of the water. One of those homes must’ve been Aunt Millie’s. I saw a chicken coop in the center of the houses and a cat sitting on top of the chicken wire.
Michael grinned. “By the way, Ally, the girl you made faces at, lives with Millie.”
I twisted sideways and slapped his arm. “Why didn’t you tell me? Are you crazy?”
He slammed on his brakes. “Ouch, what’d you do that for?”
I flew forward and banged my forehead on the dash. “Oh, I’m such an idiot sometimes. I should’ve minded my own business.”
“I hate to be the one to tell you this, but it might be you who is a little crazy.” He started his truck, stalling the engine. “Promise not to slap me again and I’ll tell you who else lives with Millie.”
“I won’t slap you.”
“Ally has a brother named Alex. He’s the smartest guy in our school but not very social.” Michael parked in front of Aunt Millie’s wooden cottage. It was painted bright yellow with a pale green trim. She had flower boxes in the windows and a little lion statue by her front door.
“She isn’t one of those people who have a bunch of knick knacks all around the house is she?” I studied the house but Michael covered his face with his hands.
“Are you really that slow?”
I blinked. “I’m following you just fine. You said Alex was a troubled soul who finds all the kids at C I N boring.”
Michael didn’t find me funny in the least bit. His eyes narrowed and he motioned for me to get out of his truck.
“I am not boring.”
I shrugged my shoulders. “No one said you were.”
“You’re ridiculous. Now I know why my parents wanted me to go to school with people at the same intelligence level. You, Lisa Brown, are—�
�
“Well, it was nice meeting you, Michael. I appreciate the ride.” I grabbed my box and backpack. “Want your jacket back?” I slowly let it slip down my arms. It dropped into the dirt.
Michael’s lips pressed tight together. “No, I wouldn’t want you to freeze to death.” He peeled out of Aunt Millie’s driveway. “Mind the cat!”
I watched his truck disappear amongst the trees. Maybe Michael wasn’t boring after all. There was definitely some potential; he could be taken out of his glass bubble with a little persuasion.
The jacket lay limp at my feet. If it wasn’t so cold I’d leave it there on the ground. Too bad I needed the warmth. I bent down and put it back on my shoulders.
It was dark outside and I could hardly see the front door. I picked up my box and climbed the three steps onto the wooden porch. There was a porch swing painted purple of all colors and Aunt Millie had a chipped red door. I lifted my hand, making a fist, ready to knock. Before I could, the door cracked open an inch.
“Who are you?” A male voice called from inside.
“I-I’m sorry, is this Millie’s house? I’m her niece from Florida.”
The door swung open and a boy about three inches taller than me stood in the doorway. He had pale blue eyes and nearly bleached blond hair. His lips were thin and his fingernails bitten and chipped.
“You must be Alex.” I forced a smile. “My name is Lisa. Are you my cousin?”
Alex did not return my smile. Instead, he spun around so that his back faced me and then quickly stomped down the hall.
“It was nice meeting you as well.” My voice echoed inside the empty room.
I put my stuff by the front door and inspected Aunt Millie’s house. It was small. To the left was a formal living room with just two love seats, and to the right was a round, wooden table with four chairs. A galley kitchen was to the right as well. In front of me was a narrow hallway with four doors. I gulped. One had to be a bathroom, one must be Alex’s room, Aunt Millie’s and the last one meant I’d be sharing with Ally, the cranky girl at the store. Life couldn’t get any better. Maybe I was wrong and there was another door that I couldn’t see from where I stood. Maybe Ally lived next door by herself. Maybe this was all just a dream. Yeah, right. I was sharing a room with the Nazi.
I sat on one of the sofas and put my hands between my knees. In the corner, between the two sofas was a black and white Boston terrier. “Pig? Is that what they call you?”
The dog looked up at me with his big, bulging eyes and snarled. I scooted over to the other end of the couch. Wow. I’d entered my own personal house of horrors. Pig lay back down and fell asleep.
Alex stood in the hallway. I jumped when I saw him. He’d entered so quietly. “I thought you were the dog, coming to attack.”
Alex frowned. “He doesn’t like to be bothered. Millie will not be home for a while, so it would be wise for you to go to your room. If you are hungry there is food in the refrigerator.”
He turned to leave. I opened my mouth and Alex twirled around. “What? What do you want?”
“Where’s my room?” He really was everything Michael described. “Also, I need to know where the bathroom is so I can take a shower.”
“Sounds reasonable, I suppose. Follow me.” He took two steps backwards and opened the first door to his left. “This is your room. The bathroom is directly across the hall.” He took a deep breath. “Anything else you’d like to inquire about?”
I just stared. His light blue eyes danced with anger. Had I said something to offend him? Did he hear me tease him with Michael? I’d been inside the truck, right? Michael said it, not me. I was just an innocent bystander. If this guy was my cousin—
“I am not your cousin.” Alex blurted. My heart beat furiously. Could he hear what I was saying? “My family is out of town and Millie offered to stay and watch us until school started. This is my house, not Millie’s. She lives next door.”
“Thanks,” I frowned. “Do you have a TV here?”
Alex rolled his eyes. “What in the world would we need a TV for?”
“To pass the time, I guess.” It felt like a trick question. “Who painted your house all those different colors?”
“You have to feed the chickens early so I suggest you go to bed.” He disappeared into the room next to mine. I closed my eyes as his door slammed shut.
What was the matter with this place? I turned around and the little Boston terrier stood in the entrance of the hallway, blocking me from passing. “What’s your problem? Pig...” He glared at me intently. “You’re supposed to greet people when they come to your house. You’re supposed to be man’s best friend.” I went into the bedroom. It was tiny and there was only one bed. I wouldn’t have to share with the Nazi, would I? I sure hoped not.
Pig stood in my doorway. His head peered around the corner with his bug eyes. I sat down on the bed and stared back. “So, I’m not allowed to touch the cat but what about you? Are you friendly?”
Pig growled. I crossed my legs and put my hands on my knees. “Well, Pig, I’m gonna change your name to Bipolar. One second you want me to pay attention to you and the next minute you act like you want to kill me.” Pig crept closer. He was halfway in my doorway now. He turned and lay in the entrance, almost as if he was on guard over my room. What was he protecting me from? The cat? Pig turned his head sideways and sort of nodded. I chuckled. First Alex can read minds, and now the dog. I must be really tired.
I looked up at the tiny shelf next to the bed. There were black and white photos inside beautiful handcrafted frames. The kids in the pictures looked just like Ally and Alex. Maybe the fair came here and did those old fashioned photos. If I were crazy I would say they were authentic from maybe the 1920’s. Maybe it was their great-great-grandparents or something. That sort of stuff happened all the time, right? Nearly twins several generations later…
I needed to brush my teeth but Bipolar Pig would not let me leave the room. He growled when I tried to step over him. So I just went to bed. What was the point in getting bit? I probably forgot to bring a toothbrush, anyhow. Maybe in the morning I could meet Aunt Millie and she would at least take me to the store to get the necessities. I sure wish I hadn’t left all my things behind.
Three
Midnight Visitor
Pig barked and snarled. I jumped up. I’d fallen asleep. What time was it? Midnight… Maybe Aunt Millie was home. I flipped on the light. Pig stood in the doorway with his hair raised and his teeth bared. But, this time it was not at me. He was vicious. The little ten pound pug nosed dog scared me worse than a Doberman Pincher or Pit Bull.
“Who’s there?” I twisted my head around the corner. Pig did not get upset that I stood so close to him now. His only concern was for the dark shadowy figure crouching in the hall. Was it the cat? What was wrong with the feline? Did she have rabies and they wouldn’t put her down or something? My eyes adjusted and I squinted to get a better look at the invader.
It was a human, for sure.
We were being robbed. Why else would Bipolar Pig be attacking? I needed something to defend myself with. I looked around the barren room. The only thing with substance was the shelf bolted into the wall. I doubted Alex’s parents would approve of me ripping their shelf off the wall but what else could I do? My heart pounded. I looked under the bed and spotted a painter’s stick with a purple tip. I grabbed it and held on tight. My fingers trembled and I couldn’t breathe.
Pig snarled and snapped at whoever lurked in the hallway. Footsteps echoed in my ears. The burglar was advancing. “Get out, whoever you are! There is nothing here that’s valuable! They don’t even have a TV!” I pounded my fists on the wall. Maybe if I was quiet they wouldn’t come near me. It was too late for that brilliant idea. “I know karate and I’m not afraid to use it!”
Who was I kidding? Karate?! Pig snapped at the darkness, growling louder than before. He barked and barked and lunged forward. His teeth bit into someone. His jaws locked onto them and he wo
uldn’t let go.
“Pig, you stop that.”
I looked up and Alex stood in dim light. Was the dog biting him? No. He wasn’t moving. But whoever Bipolar was biting wasn’t screaming or struggling. Maybe Pig didn’t have any teeth. No, I’d seen them. They were razor sharp.
“Who’s he biting?” I leaned firmly against the closet door. “Not you, right?”
“He’s biting me.” A girl’s voice answered. She flipped on a light in the hall. “Pig likes you.”
I poked my head around the corner and came face to face with Ally. She was the snotty girl at the food mart that I’d made faces at in Michael’s pickup truck. She was the Nazi.
“Bipolar was protecting me?”
Her eyes widened. “Bipolar? Really? Yeah, your Bipolar Pig isn’t going to let me near you.” Ally admitted. “Smart dog... You should heed his advice and do the same.” She flipped her long blond hair over her shoulder. Red highlights glowed in the hall light. Pig sat at my feet and snarled at Alex who stood inches away.
“Keep your door closed,” Alex said. He then disappeared inside his room. Where the heck was I? What sort of people own animals that attack them? And why didn’t she scream when he bit her? She should be in the bathroom bandaging her leg. Instead, Ally the Nazi was leaving the house again. Did she come and go whenever she wanted? Aunt Millie wasn’t a very good babysitter at all.
I looked down at Pig. “Do you even like your name? Why do they call you that?” Pig snorted almost like a real pig. He backed up so that I could close the bedroom door. I crawled back in bed and Pig lay on the floor at the foot of the bed.
“Thanks for watching out for me, Pig.”
He snorted and I turned out the light.
Four
Aunt Millie
“Morning, Lisa.”
I rubbed my eyes. It was still dark outside. I looked down at my watch. It was only six am.
“I’m your Aunt Millie. It is time to feed the chickens. Get dressed. It’s cold out so bundle up,” a short, round woman with mud brown hair said. I didn’t see any red highlights at all. She wore a white dress shirt buttoned all the way up and her eyes were pale. Pig did not growl at her. I peeked over the side of my bed. Where was Pig?
C I N: Lynn, Lynn, the city of sin. You never come out the way you went in. (The C I N Series) Page 2
