by Anya Breton
Was that why I thought he was odd? Was he some sort of serial killer in the making? That would certainly be a big enough offset to his finer qualities.
Alex caught me looking. “I’m thinking of calling it Gacy Vision.”
My eyes rounded in surprise. “Seriously?”
He laughed and gestured to the door. “Yeah but I won’t tell her that.”
I lifted the tray of chemicals to agitate them and feigned nonchalance. “Are you into that sort of thing?”
Alex shifted back against the sink. “What?”
“Serial killers.”
He lifted his shoulders with a quick irreverence. “I’ve been reading about human psychology, specifically a book on sociopaths. I guess it’s just on my mind.”
“Why Gacy vision?”
Alex grinned at me, a show of bright white teeth in the dim light. “Because Dahmer vision or Manson vision don’t have the same ring to them.”
It was my turn to chuckle. “That’s kind of eerie. I had just been thinking that it looked like it was from the view of a predator or serial killer.”
His grin slowly faded. Alex used the tongs to move his latest print into the next tray but he dropped it in face down. It was an almost agitated gesture. Had I pissed him off?
For some reason I felt the need to break the newest silence. “Is that what your project is going to be?”
He didn’t look up but his voice was lower. “No. I was just printing that one to get a feel for the studio.”
I moved my photo into the next tray and waited to see if he’d answer my question.
His tone lightened. “I haven’t decided on a theme. Any ideas?”
My head shook vehemently. “I have a hard enough time coming up with my own inspiration.”
He made a sound of contemplation. “Are there any public gardens in town?”
“There are some city parks but I don’t think they have any gardens. They just worry about having space for hockey rinks and sledding.”
“Ugh,” he grumbled, “sledding means snow.”
“Yeah, that would be a requirement.”
He glanced at me almost coyly. “Maybe I’ll take a page from your three D’s and do ‘despair’.”
“I’m sure that would be interesting.”
“Then we could easily combine our work into one show when we become famous artists.”
I couldn’t help but laugh. “Fantasize much?”
Instead of answering he set his photo in the rinse and walked into the circular contraption they called a door. I stared after, thinking that he was actually kind of odd. I wasn’t sure if that was a good thing or not.
By P.E. Alex was back to seeming normal. A rivalry was developing in flag football between football quarterback Tyler and spry dodger Alex.
I decided it was a curious thing about males that they could allow rivalries to develop without harming friendships. It seemed the opposite; rivalries inspired them. Why couldn’t females be like that?
* * * *
Downtown bound after school, the cameraman had difficulty keeping up with me. Remorse was the last thing I was feeling. His slow pace was going to make me late. I stopped in for a sandwich at a convenience store to give him a moment to catch his breath. Then I continued at my breakneck speed to work.
Junction Hill didn’t have a Hot Topic. We had a “Burning Idea”. The blatant rip off of the apparel and music store wasn’t nearly as popular as an actual Hot Topic would have been. Most attributed that to its location. Between the CVS pharmacy and the budget grocery store in the strip mall near the state road wasn’t the best of spots to lure in teenagers. The real mall would have been the ideal location.
But I liked Burning Idea because it was within walking distance of home and I could listen to music by questionable bands at a volume that bordered on unreasonable while I worked. Plus it was usually dead enough on my shifts that the owner left me in charge. The only cons had been that I was on my feet the entire time and the constant sneezing due to burning incense. After the first month I’d gotten over my slight allergy to the smoke. Now I loved the stuff.
“Oh, shit,” the owner, Felix Stern exclaimed upon finding a camera in his face. Hastily he put out whatever he’d been smoking. “I forgot about that.” He backed toward the staff area. “I’m gonna go work on the budget then go to dinner.”
My eyebrows lifted at his strange reaction. “All right.”
Felix had actually meant that he was going to go back to his desk, forget what it was he’d gone back for and then go for an extended meal. I waited until he’d disappeared out the back door then changed the music from The Grateful Dead to something a little more contemporary.
Decent Indie music was hard for me to find because I didn’t have a computer and I lived in a small town that wasn’t near any large city of notice. I ate up what I could get my hands on.
British bands were my favorite. One of the guys in my drawing class had been burning me CDs of music he’d gotten online since our sophomore year. The latest one had a band from Northern England and an American band that was a particular favorite of a certain Hollywood actress. I’d been playing it in the store nonstop.
Tuesday nights weren’t known for being particularly busy but because I hadn’t worked in two days it usually meant the store was a mess. I pulled a neon green hair tie around my hair then started organizing the t-shirt section. Once I’d gotten everything refolded and put back in the appropriate bins, I counted how many we had of each size, made notes of the numbers then headed into the back room to check on replacements.
A dozen unopened boxes awaiting me drew a frown across my lips. Felix had neglected to tell me that a big shipment from our supplier had arrived. I settled in for a long night of cataloguing and displaying.
All of three customers came in during my six-hour shift. Only one had purchased anything. Sometimes I wondered how Felix was able to stay in business, but then I recalled that I probably didn’t want to know.
It was getting easier to forget that I had a camera on me at all times. It was easy to forget unless I was walking the dark streets at night and there was a strange guy stalking my steps. I had to admit that it was a spooky feeling but at the same time I was probably the safest person on the street. Who would dare to mug a girl with a cameraman?
I waved goodbye to the videographer at the apartment door, slipped inside and immediately went to hibernate in the bathroom. A book was stowed beneath the sink from the night before. I sat on the carpeted toilet seat cover and read until shortly before my mom got home.
She and I had a brief chat about how the documentary was going until we could no longer see straight from all the yawning. I decided I’d count the day as a success if I woke up without crusted drool on my mouth.
* * * *
“Lunch alfresco,” a now familiar deep voice spoke from ahead of me. “Except you aren’t eating anything, mute girl.”
I lifted my eyes from my sketchbook to find the sun eclipsed by the black figure of Alex Chattan. He’d found me beneath the tree outside ten minutes after lunch had begun. It was surprising that he’d actually sought me out.
“I wasn’t hungry,” I lied. I’d been hungry since nine that morning but had forgotten to bring either food or money.
“Do you mind if I share a bit of your shade?”
I shrugged lightly. “It’s a free country.”
He chuckled but didn’t explain why he thought it was funny as he sat two feet beside me. I noted the roast beef sandwich with yellow American cheese in his left hand and the bottle of water in his right. He tore open the plastic wrapper on the sandwich but spoke a second before he took a bite.
“I think I’m beginning to become desensitized to the temperature. Either that or its getting warmer. Is that sad?”
“I suppose you would think so,” I said.
His profile swiveled to face me but he waited until he’d finished chewing to question me. “What do you mean?”
My
response had sounded rude rather than dry. I tried to soften it with a carefully worded explanation in a neutral tone of voice. “I gather you’d rather be back wherever you came from.”
Alex’s head tilted to the left. “Why do you say that?”
I laughed, a soft breathy sound because I hadn’t really meant it. “All that talk about how cold it was. Plus the ‘despair’ theme came up after a discussion about snow sledding.”
His bronze cheeks seemed to flush a little darker. “It’s dang cold here and I’m not looking forward to driving in snow but I don’t want to go back where I came from.”
“That bad?”
Alex shook his head in a slow movement. “You’re really confusing me today.”
“Sorry,” I murmured. My stomach picked that exact moment to pipe up with a Godzilla-level growl.
“Yeah, that sounds like you’re not hungry,” he drawled sarcastically and tried to hand me half his sandwich.
I shook my head firmly. “I’m fine.”
Alex grunted but didn’t force the issue. “I’m thinking about heading downtown with the camera after school to look for some despair. I could use a guide to the most rundown spots, if you’re free.”
“Sorry, I have to work,” I was quick to respond but my brain continued thinking about what he’d said long after.
Had he asked me on some sort of after school date? Or was it that he thought the person doing a project on dilapidated things might know where the people in the most despair could be found?
There was a long pause while he ate more of his sandwich. “How about Thursday? Do you work Thursday?”
I contemplated lying but knew the two cameras orbiting us would capture it. “No, I don’t work Thursday but you should probably get a roll of film shot as soon as possible so you’re not even more behind than you already are.”
“I have a roll of film shot,” he informed me.
“Then why do you need another one?”
“There wasn’t much despair to be found in suburbia.”
My eyes narrowed at the answer. “And you think I know where to find despair?”
“I figured you’d know where the run down spots were because of your project topic,” he repeated defensively. “And that if you knew where those were, you might know where the homeless congregated.”
I shifted to the side, onto my knees and then stood with a forceful, angry movement. “Why would I know that? You think I have some sort of kindred spirit radar that lets me seek out the poor people?”
I didn’t want to hear the answer so I snatched up my bag and shoved my notebook inside as I stomped away. The problem was that I didn’t know where to go. He was in my next class. The lunchroom would have to do.
No despair in suburbia, that line had annoyed me. I wouldn’t know what suburbia was like. We’d never been able to afford to live anywhere but the small apartment downtown. Even with Mom working two jobs and the paycheck from Burning Idea we barely eked by each month. It was the medical bills that were killing us.
Melissa was gathering up her things when I passed through the lunchroom door. I tried to calm myself before going to her so I wouldn’t be an ogre. But a voice interrupted my steadying breath.
“Aeon, please wait. I didn’t mean it like that at all.” Alex continued speaking rapidly without letting me get a word in edgewise. “I assumed everyone who had lived here a while would know where the homeless hung out. I didn’t mean that there was something about you specifically.”
My eyebrows were knit as I stared at the ground. Slowly I realized what an idiot I’d been. I’d all but admitted we were from poor circumstances and he hadn’t even accused me of it. How did I get out of this now?
I decided to merely give him the information he had been looking for. “There aren’t enough homeless people in Junction Hill to really have a congregation place. Your best bet is the Christian soup kitchen on Fifth Street.”
Once again I tried to leave him behind and this time he let me.
“Hey!” Melissa greeted with a smile then eyed the cameraman behind me warily. “Where you been the last few days?”
“Sketching outside,” I told her while pointedly ignoring the entrance the new kid had been near.
“Oh. That’s cool.” She started for a different door and I followed her. “Ashley wants to go to the movies Friday. We’re going to see a show at nine thirty. I can come by to get you after work if you want to go. The previews should be going until like quarter ‘til.”
“I don’t know. I’ll have to check with my mom.”
It wasn’t that I needed permission to go. It was that I’d used up all my spending money from the last paycheck on photo paper and film for photography class.
Melissa knew why I needed to check and she also knew that I’d be offended if she offered to pay. “All right,” she said easily. “Just let me know Friday at lunch.”
We parted ways in the hallway. My pace was slow. I was in no hurry to get to class. But Mrs. Lozano had saved me another discussion with the new kid by forcing him to sit through a make-up lecture.
In the quiet of the dark room I took my time printing several photos because I was sans camera guy. My project was nearing completion, two weeks earlier than it needed to be. I wasn’t sure what I was going to do during those two weeks. Maybe I’d start a second project.
CHAPTER FOUR
I managed to get out of the photography studio and into the drawing room next door without running into Alex. My music buddy, Stan, was waiting for me with a CD in hand.
“My musical savior,” I smiled while bowing from the waist down.
Almost mechanically Stan responded, “It’s got some new Elbow on there and a little bit of quasi-electronic stuff. I know how you like that.”
I tried to ignore the fact that he was obviously freaked out by the camera. “Awesome. I can’t wait to listen.”
My music buddy walked to his own desk when Mrs. Finch cleared her throat impatiently. My attention was focused on the typed insert that Stan had put with the CD. I was excited to see some new names along with some old favorites. The new tunes would get me through the night of stocking ahead of me.
Forty minutes of drawing a large metal ball, a bicycle tire, two wooden boxes, a cow’s skull and a plastic cone had me in a relaxed state. For once it didn’t bother me that the videographer couldn’t seem to stay still. Even the bell ringing did little to ruin my calm.
I was apathetic about P.E. until Alex broke away from talking to Tyler so he could bug me. Apathy turned to frustration.
His eyes had appeared pleading during the nanosecond I’d allowed myself to look at him. “You’re not mad at me, are you? Because I’m sorry,” he insisted. “I didn’t mean to upset you.”
I continued walking toward an empty spot to wait for class to begin. “I know. It’s fine.”
His head lowered closer toward mine. “You sure?”
“Yeah.” I stepped away because I was uncomfortable with his proximity. “Don’t worry about it.”
“Alex,” Tyler called out as if he were picking him for a team. After another person was called I realized that he had.
“I gotta go,” Alex murmured before dashing to the football star’s side.
Two more names were called and then my own was said. I looked up in surprise because only a handful of people had been picked. My uncoordinated self was usually reserved as the last place pick.
I noticed that Alex had recently stood upright as if he’d been leaning over to speak to Tyler. That seemed to explain the change in order. I breathed an irritated breath through my nose then walked across to take my spot behind them.
“So where do you work?” He’d taken four steps back so that he could stand beside me.
“Burning Idea,” I replied without looking at him.
Alex’s head cocked to the right as he turned to face me. “I’m sorry?”
“It’s a store,” I explained. “A knock off of Hot Topic.”
�
�Oh. You like that kind of stuff?”
With a typically noncommittal shrug I replied, “I guess.”
The physical education teacher tossed his bag down at Tyler’s feet. “Okay guys, you get the mesh shirts.”
I groaned but pulled on a red mesh shirt as request. Alex did the same. He gave a little wave then left me alone to play the flag football game. With two of them on the same team they could have had a team compromised of ten of me and still won the match.
Usually physical education class consisted of me doing whatever I could to avoid effort. The guys made it so I didn’t have to try. After ten minutes of merely standing off to one side without a ball nearing me, I’d taken to creating haikus in my head describing the flora and fauna. As soon as the whistle was blown, the mesh shirt was tossed down and I was headed to the locker room to finish out my school day.
* * * *
Felix’s younger brother was snoring against the register when I walked through the door to Burning Idea with a panting cameraman in tow. The noise of me setting my backpack on the counter woke Trey with a start. He wiped drool from his mouth then fixed me with a grin.
Trey’s speech was typically nasally. “When are you going to have dinner with me?”
Dinner sounded good right about then. I hadn’t eaten anything since the sandwich the night before. My breakfast, a fruit bar, had been forgotten in my haste to get to school on time. But I wasn’t hungry enough to agree to a date with Felix’s stoner brother.
“We’ve had this discussion,” I reminded him.
He walked around the counter toward me. “I’m going to keep asking until I get a better answer.”
“They say that insanity is doing the same thing over and over and expecting different results.” I’d heard it in a movie but hadn’t check to see if it was correct. It seemed fitting to me.
The guy’s hazy eyes tried to focus on me unsuccessfully. “What?”
I laughed once, a soft sardonic sound as I shook my head. “Nothing.”
“Uh, right,” he said above a cough he didn’t bother to cover. “I’m out of here.”
