S.E.A.R.Ch

by Harrison Davies

  He found a dry spot in the corner and sat down amid a rustling of hay. He hid his backpack in the straw next to him and emptied his pockets.

  The night’s events had taken its toll on him, but only now that he had sat down had he really begun to feel it. He lay back and watched a spider on a nearby beam start to spin its web.

  If only my life were as simple, he thought.

  Watching the spider at work was quite hypnotic, and coupled with tiredness, he drifted into a deep sleep.

  Unbeknown to Jack, a dark, shadowy figure entered the building from a side entrance while he slept, and sat waiting in an unlit part of the barn. The figure struck a match, highlighting his face in the glow. He sported a satisfied grin as he lit a cigarette.

  CHAPTER TWO

  Jack was peacefully sleeping until it came, as it did every morning. His stepmother’s voice.

  He hated her call; it would irritate him. It wasn’t an ordinary civilized cry; it was a shriek, like that of the Valkyries.

  ‘Jack Edward Simpson! How many more times do I have to call you? It’s time for school.’

  Jack had no sooner pulled the duvet over his head when she opened the bedroom door, strolled over to his bed and yanked it off.

  ‘Natalie!’ Jack screeched, scrambling to cover his nakedness.

  ‘Sorry,’ she said, her cheeks flushing red.

  She stepped over to the thick blue curtains covering the window and drew them back, flooding the room with light. Jack immediately buried his head in his pillow as his stepmother perched on the edge of the bed.

  ‘Jack, what’s wrong?’ she asked. ‘I’m worried about you. You seem so listless lately.’

  ‘Nothing’s wrong. I’m just a bit tired,’ Jack said, his voice muffled under the pillow.

  ‘Are you sure that’s all it is?’

  ‘Positive,’ he lied.

  ‘Then I’ll leave you be,’ she said, patting his leg through the covers and standing up again.

  Under the pillow, tears were filling Jack’s eyes, and he screwed them up tight to hold them back.

  ‘I’ll see you downstairs. We’re having pancakes this morning,’ Natalie said as she closed the door.

  Jack lay there for a few minutes more and then rolled onto his back and stared at the ceiling. The truth was that Allie, his girlfriend, was moving away to Kentucky with her parents and he was pretty sure his heart was going to burst.

  He wiped his eyes and crawled out of bed, then padded over to his en-suite bathroom and stepped into the shower. When the steam fogged up the shower screen, he wrote Jack loves Allie surrounded by a giant love heart in the condensation with his finger. Happy with his masterpiece, he had a thorough wash and then sauntered back into his room, his feet leaving wet impressions on the carpet. He dried himself quickly, catching a glimpse of his well-defined body in the mirror. Going to the gym three times a week had certainly paid off; his pecs and abs were prominent now. He studied himself for a moment, then pulled on his shirt, jumper and trousers. Haphazardly tying his yellow and black striped school tie around his neck and tucking it under his collar, he set off downstairs.

  A steaming plate of food was waiting for him in the kitchen, and he slunk into his chair at the breakfast table. His appetite had vanished, and not really wanting to eat he just stared at it. He knew, though, if he didn’t make an effort, his stepmother would know something was up.

  ‘Where’s Dad?’ he asked, hesitantly chewing a mouthful of pancake.

  ‘Oh, he’s gone to the store for a newspaper I think,’ Natalie replied, her hands soapy from the dishes.

  Jack prodded the pancake pile with his fork. ‘He’s been so busy lately. It would’ve been nice to have seen him before school.’

  ‘I know dear. He did say that he’d be home early today. You’ll see him then.’

  ‘But why can’t we see him more?’

  Natalie sighed. ‘I don’t know. Something to do with his work. You have to understand that he’s a very important person, Jack.’

  ‘I know that, but -.’

  ‘I’ll tell you what,’ Natalie interrupted, drying her hands on the tea towel. ‘I’ll talk to him later and see if we can arrange some kind of vacation for us all. How does that sound?’

  Jack perked up. ‘It sounds great. Do you think he’ll go for it?’

  ‘Course he will,’ she smirked, her eyes taking on a mischievous look. She glanced at the kitchen clock on the wall above the window.

  ‘Jack, look at the time. You’re going to be late.’

  His appetite regained, Jack polished off the food on his plate, stood up, and kissed his stepmother on the cheek before grabbing his backpack from the hall. When he reached the door, he checked himself out in the hallway mirror as he did every morning before leaving the house. With a crop of auburn hair, blue eyes, and a smile that could knock any girl dead at ten paces, he was a good-looking guy. In the past, he had been the object of fun because he was taller and broader than most of his classmates, but now, as Captain of the football team, he used it to his advantage.

  Satisfied with his appearance, he hollered goodbye and left the house, slamming the door behind him. As he strolled down the driveway, a tall, smartly dressed man was just entering the front gate.

  ‘Is your father here?’ the man asked.

  ‘No, he’s out. He shouldn’t be long,’ Jack replied.

  The man sighed. ‘Ok, I’ll catch up with him soon,’ he mumbled, turning around and heading back into the street.

  Jack didn’t wait around. He knew that many a time strange people - or who he thought were strange people - would come to the house. When they did, his father would give him some money and tell him to leave. This wasn’t new to him; his father did it to his stepmother at times, too.

  Jack put the man out of his mind and continued on his way to school, stopping only to visit Mr Misri’s corner store. A lot of the other kids made fun of him, but he liked Mr Misri. Since the age of thirteen, he’d had a paper route at the store five times a week, though today was his day off. Jack was nearly always late for school on his paper route days because he and Mr Misri would talk for ages, about anything and everything. Jack considered him a close friend, and although he could hazard a guess, he could never really understand why the other kids ridiculed him.

  He pushed open the door to the familiar ding of the bell and instinctively grabbed a chocolate bar from the counter and a carton of milk from a crate on the floor, as he had done countless times before.

  ‘Hi, Omar. How’s it going?’ Jack asked, counting out his money.

  The man smiled. ‘Fine young Jack. And you?’

  Jack shrugged, and the smile fell from Mr Misri’s face.

  ‘Want to talk about it?’

  Jack handed over the coins, debating whether or not to tell his friend about Allie, but he decided against it. ‘Not today,’ he said.

  ‘Okay, if you are sure. But I am always here for you.’

  Jack smiled. ‘I know. Listen I have to go. I’ll see you tomorrow.’

  ‘Bright and early?’

  ‘Aren’t I always?’ he laughed.

  Despite having had a hearty breakfast, he downed the liter of milk in one and polished off the chocolate bar in three bites.

  The fresh winter air was cool on his skin and made him shiver. It was only a short walk to school, though looking at his watch he realized that he would have to run, to save being late.

  Slightly out of breath, he arrived at Kings High School, one of only two in his town. He had learned once from his history teacher that there was a large nuclear shelter underneath the school, which was built during the cold war. He thought it was fascinating and even asked where it was, though no one would tell him; they said they didn’t want anyone getting hurt down there. At one point, the school had thought about opening it as a museum to raise money, but the idea was scrapped before it reached the drawing board. He’d spent many a break time searching for the bunker to no avail. Why it intrigued him
so much he didn’t know, he just wanted to know what secrets it held.

  He swung open the double doors of the school, and passing the main reception; he waved at the two women behind the desk as he entered the main auditorium.

  It was a hive of activity with teachers and students running around laughing, shouting, and pointing.

  ‘Whoa! What’s up?’ Jack said, as his closest friend and classmate ran into him.

  ‘I’m exhausted,’ Phil gasped, out of breath. ‘One of the teachers said she saw a rat, so everyone’s out to catch it. Bates says he’s gonna kill it for interrupting him.’

  Jack glanced at the headmaster who was standing in the doorway with his hands on his hips. He didn’t look too pleased. ‘Which teacher?’ he asked.

  ‘Mrs. Hatchet. I wish it’d bitten the old sow.’

  Jack laughed. ‘She’d have deserved it too.’

  A cry went up from a corner of the auditorium.

  ‘I got it, I got it! Whoa, it’s a wriggler, isn’t it?’ Came the unmistakable voice of Mr Schism, the football team coach. Or Psycho Schism, as the pupils, unaffectionately called him, and even a few of the teachers if you believed the rumors. He stood up, untangling himself from a pile of chairs he had knocked over while diving for the rat, and flattened what little hair he had left on his head. The rat, which was being held by its tail, wriggled furiously, trying to bite Mr Schism’s fingers in an attempt to escape.

  ‘Thank you Mr Schism,’ said a shaky Mrs Hatchet, who was stood on a plastic school chair with her skirt hoisted up over her knees, revealing very hairy legs.

  ‘No problem. All in a day’s work,’ he said smugly. He was a giant of a man and an exceedingly strict teacher who was apt to take a swipe at you, even though the law said he couldn’t. Not even Bates would argue with him. Passing Jack, he whispered something, and Jack raised an eyebrow.

  ‘What did he say?’ Phil asked.

  ‘Having a nice day?’ Jack said, mimicking his voice.

  ‘That man’s weird.’

  Jack watched as Mr Schism marched up to a group of twelfth graders who had gathered near the exit of the hall and swung the rat in their faces. Some of them laughed, but the majority ran off, a few screaming.

  The teacher strolled off, laughing like a high-pitched hyena. How someone that big could laugh like a girl, Jack didn’t know.

  Morning assembly had been cancelled due to the rat incident, so Jack headed outside into the wind in an attempt to find Allie before class started. After five minutes of searching, he found her behind the tennis court, leaning against the wall and smoking a cigarette with her friends. As soon as Allie saw him, she grabbed Jack’s arm and led him out of earshot of the others.

  ‘I’ve got something to tell you,’ she said, her voice deadly serious.

  ‘What?’ he said. Even though Kentucky was miles away, they had sworn they would still stay together, somehow. Perhaps she had changed her mind? His stomach flipped.

  ‘We’re not moving.’ Allie smiled.

  Jack whooped for joy, picked her up in his strong arms, and swung her around before finally lowering her to her feet. He tossed his backpack on the grass then sat down, beckoning her to join him. For ten minutes he didn’t say a word.

  ‘Jack, are you alright?’ she said, unable to stay silent any longer. ‘I thought you’d be happy.’

  ‘I am! I’m so glad you’re not leaving.’ He paused. ‘I would’ve followed you, you know.’

  ‘You’d have done that for me?’

  ‘Yes, of course. I love you. I’d do anything for you.’ He flushed a bright red. ‘So what happened?’

  ‘Dad’s new job fell through,’ Allie said.

  ‘Oh.’

  She threw her arms around his neck and kissed him.

  ‘What was that for?’

  ‘Because I love you too, you fool.’

  Jack smiled, thinking how lucky he was, and when the school bell rang, Allie jumped to her feet.

  ‘Can’t we just stay here for a bit?’ he said, gazing up at her.

  ‘Don’t be daft. Come on; we’re gonna be late. It’s math with Mrs Hatchet,’ Allie said, heaving him up from the grass.

  They both ran across the courtyard, heading towards the side entrance when Mr Schism stopped them.

  ‘Allie, get to class. Jack, I need a word with you. Come with me,’ he said, without so much as a please or a thank you.

  Allie shrugged her shoulders and carried on her way while Jack was escorted to Mr Schism’s office in the sports hall.

  Time passed slowly as Jack was there quite some time, with the teacher asking him all sorts of questions about his family and home life.

  ‘So what do you do after school? Go to your pals; dunk a few maybe?’

  ‘Yeah, something like that. Why do you want to know all this, Sir?’ Jack asked.

  ‘We’ve never really got on, have we Jack? I thought it about time that I got to know you better. Besides, I think you’ll be ideal for a position representing the school’s football team to the Department of Education. It’s an excellent opportunity to gain increased funding.’

  ‘Hmm, I’ll think about it, Sir,’ he said, not quite believing what he had heard. It was unusual for Schism to pick him for anything, despite him being football captain.

  ‘Good; you do that. I look forward to hearing your decision. And if you have any more questions, just ask.’

  Jack nodded. ‘Is that it, Sir? Only I really have to get to class.’

  ‘Yes, that’s it. Oh, wait.’ Schism scribbled a note on a small pad on his desk, tore off the page and handed it to him. ‘To excuse your tardiness,’ he said.

  The rest of the day passed like a dream. Allie had left school early, pleased with her free period. Jack was on a high as he made his way home, the weight of the world now lifted off his shoulders. Phil tagged along as usual. He was shorter than Jack and was broader around the waist than the shoulders. He had a shock of red hair, giving him the nickname Red. He had hated it at first, but soon became used to it.

  The two boys walked down the Old Mill Road, a winding downhill affair, towards the center of town. The shopping mall itself was old, modeled after an old English town called York in many ways with its cobbled streets and wooden framed houses, now converted into sympathetically fronted stores.

  On the way home, they stopped off at Phil’s house. He lived in the middle of a row of small terraced houses, many of which had been trashed and subsequently boarded up by the local authority. Blackened upper windows revealed arsonists had started fires in a few of them.

  ‘Hi Mom,’ Phil said to his mother as he walked into the small, dimly lit kitchen. He immediately went to her and gave her a hug around the middle and a kiss on the cheek as she stood at a sink full of dishes. Mrs Bryant was a large woman in her mid-forties, with slightly greying hair cut into a neat bob.

  ‘Hello dear. How was school? Oh, hello Jack,’ she said, noticing him in the kitchen doorway.

  ‘Hello, Mrs Bryant.’

  ‘School’s school,’ Phil said.

  ‘What’s that supposed to mean?’

  ‘Oh, you know, the same boring lessons with the same boring teachers,’ Phil said with a smile on his face.

  ‘You should be glad you’re getting an education. Your Grandfather didn’t. He had to work very hard at your age,’ she said.

  Phil rolled his eyes, and Jack suppressed a laugh.

  ‘Go and get changed. Dinner will be ready at seven. I suppose you’ll be disappearing to your friends later?’

  ‘Yep. We’re going to Jack’s.’

  ‘Well don’t be late mind, or I’ll feed your dinner to the dog. And I want to see you make an attempt at cleaning your room.’ Mrs Bryant feigned a swipe at his head. ‘Boring indeed,’ she mumbled as the boys left the kitchen.

  Mrs Bryant had a point because Phil’s bedroom wasn’t exactly the neatest in town. He was a hoarder, just like his father, and never threw anything away. You couldn’t blame him, though,
considering his father was a scrap metal dealer.

  While Phil changed out of his uniform, Jack flicked on the PlayStation.

  ‘What have you done with the controller?’ he said, searching under the piles of junk on his bed, not daring to look underneath it.

  ‘Should be there. I was playing it this morning,’ Phil said, as he struggled to find an empty spot on the floor to get into his jeans.

  ‘Oh, great. That’s a big help, that is,’ Jack said sarcastically. Then he laughed as Phil tripped over an old car tire and fell headfirst into a takeout container of moldy chicken that had been sitting on the carpet for weeks.

  ‘Ugh,’ Phil said, picking himself up. ‘That smells!’

  ‘Serves you right. You should clean up more often.’ Jack snickered, wondering what the hell Phil was doing with a car tire in his room.

  ‘Come on, forget the game. Let’s get to your place. I want a dip in your pool.’

  Jack glared at him. ‘What! In this weather? Are you crazy? It’s winter outside, or hadn’t you noticed?’

  ‘My Dad says it’s good for you. It puts hair on your chest. Or is that whisky?’

  ‘Well, he’s as crazy as you, then.’

  Phil finished changing clothes, stuffed his swimming shorts into his pocket, and both boys headed downstairs, pushing and shoving each other and making such a row that Phil’s mother came out of the living room.

  ‘Could you be quiet boys? I’m trying to watch TV before your father arrives home.’

  ‘Sorry.’ They both giggled as they rushed past her and opened the door.

  ‘And don’t slam the -’

  BANG!

  On the way to Jack’s house, they bumped into Allie, just coming out of the local pizzeria, the local grease pit.