by Shawn Jolley
Fracture After Dark
Shawn Jolley
Copyright © 2016 by Shawn Jolley
All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the publisher except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
Available through KDP
First Printing, 2016
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author's imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.
Dreams come easy.
Stories grow slow.
Belief bears hope.
Thanks Allie for
never doubting.
Fracture After Dark
Prologue
1
2
3
4
5
6
7
8
9
10
11
12
13
Epilogue
Prologue
The front door opened, stuck for a moment, then jolted forward with a high, sharp creak. Eden's dad, Melvin, stepped through the doorway, his dirty black boots thumping against the fake wooden floor boards, his breath permeating the entry with the pungent stench of too much alcohol.
The room was dark. A dim, dusty light fixture suspended by a thick copper chain dangled from a hook in the corner, helping illuminate the side of the drunk man's sweaty face. The apartment was small, even by city standards. A wall clock to the right of the door showed that it was past one o'clock in the morning.
On the other side of the apartment, the window had been opened an inch, letting in some air and the early morning sounds of the city streets below. The wail of a siren floated on the wind from far away, making itself heard over the constant hum of the neon sign in the window of the bar across the street. Somewhere, a cat caterwauled for attention and nobody told it to shut up. Car engines idled, revved, and hummed along the roads.
Eden, a thirteen-year-old boy, lay wide awake on his bed in his room down the hall. He had been thinking about his dad, wondering when he would come home. His mom had crossed his mind too, but she was still in the apartment, so she occupied less space in his head. She was mad, but she was safe; and, most importantly, safe and not mad at him.
As the front door closed Eden snuck out of his bed and crept into the hallway. He could smell the cologne that his dad always wore: strong and musty. He heard his father's shallow breathing and heavy footfalls coming from near the front door.
The reflection of his mom, Felicia, was visible to Eden from a small mirror hanging in the hallway. She sat on a chair in the living room with her arms folded across her chest, making absolutely no noise. Hours had passed with her sitting there, brooding under the solitary hanging light fixture.
"You need a shave," she said. "You're beard is coming in patchy. I don't suppose you care though, do you? Can't make much of a difference to your friends. They probably adore your greasy whiskers."
Melvin grunted something unintelligible, and Eden heard him unzip his jacket. He imagined his expression, unchanging and uninterested, as his dad placed the black garment on the coat rack next to the door.
"Nothing to say? No apologies? Well, I guess I shouldn't have expected you to say 'I'm sorry' when it's obviously my fault you came home so late. Do you have any clue what time it is? Why do I even ask? There's a clock there if you can read it."
"Humph." A loud metallic crashing noise caused Eden to jump.
"You, idiot! Pick it up. The rack. Not your jacket. No, wait. Don't throw up! No. Just, stay put and don't do anything. I'll do it." Eden watched his mom hurriedly get up from her chair and cross out of the mirror's reflection. A second later, she returned and sat back down, glaring icily toward the doorway.
"Sorry," his dad muttered.
Eden hoped his mom wouldn't say anything else so that the conversation could end, but he wasn't stupid; he knew she wasn't going to let his dad leave without a few more choice words. She never did, and his dad always let her have her say.
"Do you know what my friends think of you? They say it's only a matter of time before you do something dangerous. That's right. Dangerous. They told me to leave you. They tell me you're crooked. A disgrace to the badge. You don't mean anything. You're an alcoholic and you're no good for me." She sighed. "And then, there's the rumors about… stuff. Things I don't want to believe." Her tone had shifted from threatening to pleading. Her eyes were glistening in the mirror. "I know you know what I'm talking about. Are they true?"
Eden heard Melvin shuffle around without saying anything. Felicia stood up and walked out of the mirror's reflection again, her voice raised. "Are you listening to me? You want to say something or do anything? I've half a mind to walk out of here right now! Do you mean to say it's true?" She was definitely crying now.
Melvin stopped shuffling and spoke in a low but forceful voice that sounded surprisingly sober, "I've got nothing to say about anything. Leave, if you want, but don't come back when you've got no place to go." A few seconds of silent tension passed and Eden willed his dad and mom to walk to their bedroom and fall asleep.
His mom spoke, her voice shaking, dashing all hopes for a hurtful yet peaceful end to their argument. "Fine. I'm taking Eden, and we're leaving." Then, she gasped and screamed, "Get off!" Glass shattered somewhere nearby and a metallic crashing followed. The neighbors pounded on the adjacent walls and yelled for everyone to shut up.
Without a thought in his mind, Eden ran into the living room. The lamp lay smashed near the baseboard; the coat rack had fallen onto the coffee table. Melvin had his hands around Eden's mom's neck. Her face was turning a dark shade of red.
"Stop!" shouted Eden, running between them. He punched his father in the gut, then there was blinding pain pulsing through the side of his face. The floor came up quick. His mom gasped loudly from next to him and the room was a blur of black, yellow, and red.
Everything came back into focus at once. His mom hovered over him muttering words he couldn't understand. His dad stood facing the door, his jacket back on and zipped up. A sudden knock at the door made them both freeze.
"Open up, Mel!" someone shouted. Eden thought he recognized the voice as one of his dad's coworkers. His dad opened the door to reveal a tall uniformed officer. Eden decided he might have known him, or not.
The man glanced at his dad, then to Felicia and Eden on the floor. The man sighed. "You know what this means?" Eden's dad nodded and mumbled something. Eden thought he might have been apologizing. "It was only a matter of time," said the officer, an expression of pity on his face. "Felicia, do you want me to arrest him?"
"Yes." She said the word so fast, Eden almost didn't catch it.
The officer took a pair of handcuffs from behind his back. Melvin turned around and waited. The metal loops ratcheted into place.
"I'm taking Eden, and we're going," said Felicia, her back turned away from her husband. "We won't be here when you get back… whenever that is."
The pain in Eden's face had subsided and he wanted to argue and say it wasn't so bad and that she didn't know what she was talking about, but he said nothing. His dad walked out first followed closely by the officer, then the door closed.
1
"Catch!"
Eden caught the basketball without looking up from his lap; he rotated and tossed the ball over his shoulder in one fluid movement, where it bounced off the headboard and landed in a wad of blankets near the edge of his bed.
He didn't need to see his mom to know that her smile had tu
rned into a frown so fast that a surgeon would more than likely be needed to fix her lips. He stared at the gray sheets between his legs and pretended not to notice her.
She walked into his room and flipped the lights on. "Grab the ball. You have half a day to go make a friend— Don’t look at me like that!" Eden recognized her tone and knew he would lose the argument, but that didn't stop him from seeing it through to the end.
She had stopped at the foot of his bed and had moved her hands to her hips. His voice was low and lazy. "Mom, we’ve been through this. This town sucks. There's nobody to make friends with." He glanced up and saw her lips purse even more.
"You know that's not true. We've seen kids your age playing outside on our way to the gas station. Why don't you just talk to them?" Her words came out too quickly. She had planned what she was going to say, and Eden didn't stand a chance.
He continued anyway. "Just because they're there doesn't mean I want to be their friend. You wouldn't understand." Even as he said it, he regretted it. Eden knew there was nothing more cringe inducing than a teenager who knew more than their mother. Somewhere, deep in his mind, he knew she could understand where he was coming from, even if she was being unreasonable.
She sighed, folded her arms, and glared at him until he shifted uncomfortably. He reached to grab his headphones from his side table, but she got to them first. "Hey!" The blue cord which had been tied around the over-ear speakers started to untangle in her grip.
"I don't care if you're too snooty to be their friend or not." She flipped the headphones up and through her folding arms. The end of the cord stuck out between her wrist and elbow.
"Give me my headphones!" His arm was stretched out.
"That’s enough!" she said, shifting her stance and raising her finger in front of his face. His hand dropped. "I saw someone your age behind our house not more than an hour ago. I want you to walk down the dirt road until you find them. No, I don't want to hear it."
Eden continued to eye his headphones dangling from her undignified half-folded arms and ignored her sweeping hand gesture toward the window and his basketball. Now that she was in lecture mode, he knew she wouldn't stop until he left. She yammered on about the importance of making friends after moving to a new town. He didn't catch a word of it.
"Listen to me!" Her eyes were terrifying.
"I am." He turned away from her and saw his basketball. The bright orange contrasted with the rest of the dark, dim room. Even with the lights on in summer, it was never bright enough. Sighing, he grabbed it and stood up, knowing if he waited any longer he would be cleaning the house for the rest of the night.
"Thank you," she said curtly.
His fingers turned white as he gripped the ball, then he had an idea. Glancing out of the corner of his eye, he noticed his window wasn't latched, so maybe he could sneak back in once she left. Turning farther away from her he smiled and relaxed his grip. This was too perfect. Trying his best to scowl, he pushed past her and walked down the hall.
"You'll thank me one day," she called after him. "Don't scuff the baseboards! Your grandfather built this house, you know?" she added as he turned into the front room.
He didn't believe the day would ever come that he would thank her. In fact, he wondered if anyone thanked their parents after they grew up. Maybe, someone, somewhere. Not him.
The weather was dry and hot just like every other August day in the small town of Fracture. The last thing Eden wanted to do was walk around outside. He reluctantly closed the front door behind him and squinted across the dying yard.
The closest house was half a mile down the road at the corner of Main Street, and it was boarded up. Heat waves danced in the distance. Sweat had already broken out on his forehead, and he thought maybe it truly had been too long since he had been outside.
Dribbling the ball a few times on the porch, he made his way across the lawn toward the street, hoping not to look suspicious if his mom was watching from the front window. The brown and green grass crunched and flattened under his footsteps.
When he reached the corner of the front yard where the browning lawn, dirt road, and paved road met, he turned onto the dirt road which ran along the side of the house.
The house itself was light blue. It was also big, and it looked out of place next to the brown dirt which made up most of Fracture's roads. The particular dirt road which Eden walked on was especially ugly because it was originally used by tractors and other farm vehicles to transport workers around the huge field next to the house.
Eden knew his grandfather was the last farmer to take care of the adjoining field. His mom had told him that almost a month ago when they had moved. It had been a simple conversation while they had packed.
The barbed wire fence which ran along the road separating the house from the field was the ugliest part of the whole scene. Amazingly, the posts and wire had stayed intact during eleven years of neglect. Eden's Grandfather Ardburn had died when he was two years old.
Eden couldn't remember him. His mom said they had never seen each other. His mom also said there were trailers at the end of the dirt road, but he had never seen those either. She was most likely right about both things, but that didn't stop him from enjoying the thought that she might be wrong. He looked to where the dirt road curved out of view and into the wild trees, which grew everywhere except for the field. Nothing grew there.
He left the dirt road and crossed the backyard to his bedroom window. The blinds were slightly open, but he couldn't see inside because of the glare from the sun. Chipped remains of a wooden frame where the screen had once sat extended around the pane. He pushed on the glass and the window easily swung open, knocking into the blinds and causing a racket.
"Did you forget something?" asked his mom. She flipped open the blinds and stared at his dumbstruck expression.
Eden jumped back and almost dropped his basketball. "Wha— No. I mean, yes." His mom continued to stare at him. He got over his surprise and returned her gaze, hating how smug she looked.
"Do you think I was born yesterday? I knew what you were planning before you did. And don't look so surprised. You really think you're the first person to come up with the sneak-back-in trick." She sighed and finally blinked.
"Look. I just want you to stop being so depressed. I know things have been difficult since we moved, but it's been three weeks. Not to mention it wasn't entirely out of the blue. School starts tomorrow, and you don't know anybody. Can't you help me out a little?"
Eden stared at the ground and wondered if she was ever going to bring her separation from his dad into one of her lectures. She alluded to him, but never mentioned him. There had been no mention of him since his arrest, and Eden, not knowing how she would react, didn't want to be the one to bring it up. The only thing for him to do was rotate the hot basketball in his hands and wait for her to finish talking and leave.
"Remember what I told you? There’s a neighborhood at the end of this road. Go and see if someone is down there. In fact, don't come back until you've made at least one friend."
Eden let out an unintentional snort of disbelief and heard a sharp intake of breath and a strange throaty noise followed by the bedroom window clanging shut. He snorted again and wondered if she was going to cry, telling himself he didn't care and it was her own fault. He shook his head.
"You seriously want me to go wandering over to the trailer park! Neighborhood, my rear." The weathered, blue siding answered his shouting and name calling with silence.
A cricket chirped in a nearby bush, and his mom didn’t come back. The hum of power lines overhead filled the air; the sound was a different kind of hum from the bar's neon sign back in the city. Eden's grip tightened on the basketball again making his palms burn, but he didn't care. Nothing else remained for him to do but walk down the dirt road for show, and maybe then, he would be let back into the house.
He placed the basketball under his arm and started walking, wondering why he was listening to his mom after
she had moved him away from all of his friends and his dad. He thought about how his dad was handling things back in the city and dragged his feet as he went, not wanting to go any faster than was necessary. His throat felt dry and his shoes were burning his feet, but at least the sun was now lowering in the sky.
A thought struck him as though from somewhere else. What if his dad had already gotten over their departure and didn't miss him at all? Maybe that's why his mom never let him call back home. She was protecting him from the ugly truth that he wasn't missed.
Although, his dad might have been kept in jail for a while, unable to even think about finding Eden. He wished he could return to sitting on his bed so he could think these new thoughts through. Why couldn't his mom just leave him alone? Sitting and remembering was all he had. Didn't she get that?
He didn't want to forget, but he was afraid he already had. Parts, at least. He wouldn't ever forget everything, but that wasn't much of a comfort. The more he forgot, the more he grew up, and the more his old life went away. He wondered why he hadn’t stopped it from going and he laughed, not knowing why. His apathetic nature must have been funny to him on some level.
He tried to remember exactly why they had moved. They had needed to get away from his dad before he had a chance to really hurt them. Wasn't that it? All the nights of drinking had certainly taken their toll on everyone. The reasoning seemed clear enough, but that didn't stop Eden from wondering about where his dad was now and if he could somehow go back.
When his mom had asked him (not that it was much of a question) if he felt that they should move, he had told her moving was for the best. That's what she wanted to hear. Again, she was probably right, but that didn't make the situation feel right.
An image of his mom talking on the phone overtook his thoughts. Her voice said, "That doesn't mean anything. I know he steps outside the law every once in a while, but— No, I'm not saying that. What are you saying? Yes, I heard. No, I don't believe them. Well, even so, I have Eden to think about— Yes, I know he's a lousy father."
