Chapter 1
“Naw. She’s okay.” I half managed to get out as my friends were teasing me about having a crush on April Powders.
“Yeah, you do! Ohhhh, yeah, you do! Jimmy likes April. Jimmy likes April,” Mikey sang out loud while dancing around our lunch table. I’m not sure how, exactly, I became friends with Mikey. I suppose it was because we had homeroom together since I could remember. He was very tall for a thirteen year old and built like a lumber-jack. And, like you’d assume from looking at his unkempt hair and dirt-stained face, he had absolutely no manners. He didn’t even care if there were girls around when he needed to pass gas, or shoot a booger out of his nose. And, he certainly didn’t mind embarrassing me in front of April Powders.
I was quickly turning beet red, and wanted to die.
April was a girl who I sat next to each day in my English literature and biology classes. She had curly, brown hair that always smelled like roses. She was our class president, and my lab partner in biology. The truth was, I did have a bit of a crush on her, but I’d never tell Mikey that. No need to give him more ammunition to use on me later. It was always so hard to concentrate on the biology lesson when I was sitting next to April. I was magically transported into the wishful thinking of my mind by the lovely, clean scent of April’s hair. I would get so nervous, though, that I had to constantly wipe the palms of my hands on my pants in class. They would sweat so much when I was around her. I mean, they would sweat a lot…so much so, that I felt like a sweat factory in biology! I probably left class everyday with pit stains under my arms too. I’m sure she thought I was a complete and utter idiot.
Being thirteen and in high school was hard to figure out. As a teen and high-schooler, I was supposed to hit on girls every chance I got and try to get dates or more from them…but, just last year I was made fun of if I even had a crush on a girl, or a girl had a crush on me. I never really knew what to do, and Mikey seemed to know that and pounced on me every chance he got. Unfortunately, for me, he got a lot of chances. I mean A LOT!
“Aww…leave him alone, Mike,” my best friend, Connor, interjected. “Can’t ya see he’s embarrassed?”
Connor was everything I wished I was. He was taller than me…standing at five foot nine inches. He was athletic and toned. He had brown hair and hazel eyes like me, but also kind-of a crooked smile that seemed to make girls swoon. He was the kind of guy who was smart, funny, witty, goofy, and outgoing. I felt very lucky to have him as my best friend. I could tell Connor anything and know my secrets were safe with him. He was completely trust-worthy, and we had been friends since I was nine years old. That’s when he stopped a bully from beating my face to a bloody stump. I know he was just trying to protect me this time too, but Mikey was hard to reel in when he knew he was getting under a person’s skin.
Just as Mikey was about to start in again, and likely embarrass me to even greater depths than before, the school bell loudly rang.
RRIIIINNNNNGGGGGG….
Saved by the bell, lunch was over.
I exhaled a huge sigh of relief, as I picked up my trash and partially eaten sandwich and tossed them in the fly ridden trash can. I missed while trying to shoot the balled up wrapper into the can, as if it was a basketball. I quickly looked around to make sure Mikey didn’t see my failure, and it seemed that I was in the clear for once. Now, I just had to make it through the rest of the day.
Connor and I told Mikey we would see him later since he had Algebra class on the other end of campus. As we walked away, Mikey yelled at the top of his lungs, “Jimmy! See ya later, Loverboy!” and cracked up laughing to himself as he blew a kiss in my direction. About thirty kids stopped and started looking at me and laughed…some hysterically.
“Don’t mind him, dude,” Connor offered, and playfully tussled my hair as he broke away to his locker. He always knew how to make me feel better.
The next few classes went well. I didn’t have any classes the second half of the day with either Mikey or April, so I could just focus on my schoolwork. I was always a teacher’s pet type of guy. I naturally got good grades, and was always polite and attentive to my teachers. I didn’t brown-nose or anything, but I still got singled out as the example to follow in quite a few of my classes.
Finally, the last bell of the day rang and I couldn’t wait to get home. Mom said that if I got my homework done early enough, we could go look at Christmas lights around town. I’ve always loved Christmas. Living in Washington State, I was fortunate enough to get a white Christmas every year. It just seemed to make everything so much more magical. The lights seemed to twinkle more, as they reflected off the snow and ice…and the people became just a tiny bit happier, in spite of having to drive in a foot of snow. The cold temperatures made me wanna get a fire going in the fireplace, and drink hot cocoa while watching my favorite Christmas television special. I had to imagine the fire since we never had a fireplace in our house.
Connor and I lived right next door to each other, so we always walked home together and talked about our day. It was actually the part of my day I normally looked forward to most.
“Wanna have a snowball fight throw-down?” Connor challenged as we passed the park near our houses. A snowball fight throw-down is like the ultimate snowball fight….winner takes all. The last three years Connor has held the championship, but I was determined to beat him one day. It would have to wait until some other day though.
“Can’t today, bud. We’re going to go look at Christmas lights tonight, so I gotta get my homework for Mrs. Schiltz’s class done ASAP!” I answered. “Maybe tomorrow.”
“Deal.” Connor said with one of his patented winks as we each crossed our front yards.
As soon as I opened the worn and squeaky door, I threw off my snow covered shoes and ran straight to the fridge. I was fortunate enough to have a very good metabolism. Though, sometimes, I wondered if I was too thin. I weighed just under one hundred and thirty pounds. I felt like that was a good weight for my age and height. I grabbed some whole wheat bread, three or four ham slices, colby-jack cheese, and some Cheez-Its and headed to my room. I put a sandwich together quickly, and got my books out of my hand-me-down book bag.
“Is that you, Honey?” I heard Mom yell from down the hall. My Mom was a very pretty lady, who had to raise two kids all alone. She worked hard as a deli manager in our local super-market, and always seemed to have a smile on her face. Sometimes, I worried that she worked too hard. She was older than most of my friends’ moms, and shouldn’t have been doing as much manual labor as she did. My friends used to tease me when I was little about my Mom being the same age as their grandmas, but I still thought she was the best Mom around. When I would see laundry detergent commercials on television, I remembered my childhood being just like what was portrayed in them. The rays of sun would be coming in the windows, with a gentle spring breeze. Mom would always have everything smelling so great, and welcome me home from school with a perfect smile on her loving face.
“Yeah. I’m starting on my homework now. Are we still going to look at lights tonight?” I asked her.
“As long as you and your sister get your homework done in time,” she hollered back from down the hall.
My sister’s name was Sarah. Don’t let the angelic sounding name fool you. She was pretty…she definitely got Mom’s looks. She had the same long, wavy, blonde hair that shimmered, and eyes that changed between blue and green depending upon which type of a mood she was in. Her skin was very pale, almost porcelain-like. But, my sister could be mean….to me, at least. I guess that was to be expected from an older sister. She just turned sixteen, and thought she was too cool to hang around her dorky, younger brother. Even as kids, she seemed to find ways to torment me while we played together. When I was barely eight, she would only play with me if I would pet and talk to her feet. She would pretend they were turtles, and if I didn’t
pet them, and snuggle with them, their feelings would get hurt. On several occasions, she made me eat the dead skin from her feet…telling me it tasted like bacon, and that the turtles made it for me. And, of course, she always got her way. Anytime we had to pick a game to play or decide on what to watch on TV, it was always what she wanted. I always figured my mom loved her more, but it could’ve just been that she was mom’s first-born, or because they were both girls. Maybe it was just because my sister threw the biggest fit if she didn’t get her way. One time, we were having an argument at Wendy’s about something and she took her packet of black pepper and blew the pepper right into my eyes. Boy, did it burn! Of course, she claimed it was an accident, but, I knew better. I told myself that I hoped she wasn’t planning on coming home late and messing up our trip to go see the Christmas lights.
BANG, BANG, BANG!
I sprung up from my history homework, as my sister barged into my room and collapsed onto my bed, scattering my homework all over the place.
“What’s wrong with you?” I asked a bit too rudely when I heard my sister’s sobbing.
“I don’t want to talk about it!” she replied. I moved my homework out of the way, because I thought her nose was running and I definitely didn’t need snot all over my report when I turned it in. “You wouldn’t even understand,” she continued in between sobs.
“How do you know what I’d understand?” I asked, defensively.
“Men!” she exclaimed. Before I could figure out what she meant, she rambled on like I wasn’t even there. “They will tell you they love you, and that you mean the world to them…but, don’t you believe them. Oh no! Don’t you believe them!”
I don’t really expect to ever be in that position with a man, but okay…..
“They’re all the same and only after one thing. Why can’t Andrew understand that I want to take it slower than that? He tried to get me to hook-up last night, you know?” she asked rhetorically to no one in particular, as if I weren’t really even there. “And, then, when I said I just wanted to kiss…he said he was fine with it. But, today he gives me the silent treatment all day, and at lunch I see him flirting with Angela ‘the slut’ Morgan!”
“Should I be hearing this?” I asked, but she continued as if not even hearing me.
“If he wants Angela ‘the slut’ Morgan, well, he can have her! I’ve got lots of guys wanting to date me. That’s what I’ll do! I’ll go out with another guy tonight. See how he likes it!” Before she could ramble more, I stopped her and reminded her that we were all going to look at Christmas lights. “Grow up, Jimmy! How can you think of Christmas lights at a time like this???” And, with that, she stormed out of my room, likely to go repeat the entire thing to Mom.
Even if she decided she didn’t want to go look at the lights with me and Mom, I was still excited. I spent the next two hours doing my report until I smelled dinner. As I was packing my books back into my book bag, Mom yelled out, “Dinner time!”
I raced to the dining room, and saw we were having a “taco night.” Not very Christmassy, but I loved Mexican food. Laid out on the table were hard, corn tortillas as well as soft, flour tortillas. There was ground, seasoned beef, refried beans, two kinds of shredded cheese, black olive slices, lettuce, onions, diced tomatoes, salsa and sour cream. My sister was already seated at the table and seemed to be in better spirits. As always, I started loading up my plate first.
“Hungry much?” my sister asked in a sarcastic tone.
“You bet…” I replied with my mouth full as I continued shoving the first bite in my mouth. The taco broke and all its fillings dropped out onto my plate. Mom and Sarah laughed contagiously.
After dinner, Sarah and I cleaned the table and dishes. She made me wash because she said her hands were too delicate for dish-water. Oh, brother! I didn’t mind though because I never liked drying dishes anyways. I always thought I was going to drop and break them because they were so slippery. Once the left-overs were put up and the kitchen was sparkling clean again, Mom told us to get our coats and shoes on so we could get on the road for some good ole Christmas light lookin’.
“You don’t have to tell me twice….” I hollered as I raced to find my shoes.
“Jimmy! I’ve told you not to get snow all over the place when you come in from school,” Mom complained when she saw the mess the snow from my shoes made. “Go get a towel and mop up the puddles, please.” I hurried and cleaned up the mess, and we all hopped in the car.
Brrrr, rrrr, rrrr, rrrrrr….cachuk!
Mom’s car was an older, powder-blue, Chrysler station-wagon that never seemed to want to start when it was cold outside. Mom tried again, and it finally cranked. “Oh my God…it’s sooooo c-c-coooollllddddd in here,” Sarah complained. She always seemed to be complaining about something. Mom turned on the Christmas carols to take our minds off of the frigid car while it slowly warmed up. Then, she stepped outside to scrape the ice from the windshield. Meanwhile, I bundled up in the blanket I kept on the back seat for long trips. I got car sick very easily, so if we were going to be in the car long, I always had to nap to prevent myself from getting too nauseous. There was always a blanket and pillow waiting for me, just in case.
“Jingle Bells! Jingle Bells! Jingle all the waaaayyyy…” I sang as we backed out of the driveway. The car began to heat up and we started out to the first neighborhood. The first few houses didn’t have any lights on, even though their yards were decorated. We did manage to find enough houses that had their lights on to make it worth it, though. We sang along to the carols on the radio, in between our trio of “ooohhhhs” and “aaahhhs” as we saw bigger and bigger displays of lights. One house even had wooden cut outs of cartoon characters, and had re-enacted a scene from my favorite Christmas special, involving a lonely Christmas tree.
Once we left a few of the smaller neighborhoods, we made our way to the King of Neighborhoods, as I nick-named the sub-division due to the enormous sizes of the houses. I don’t know if you’d call the houses in Ashton Woods Estate mansions, but they are certainly the biggest houses I had ever seen. Each house was covered in stone, and even had a smaller attached home for their housekeepers or cooks. We weren’t what I would call poor, but we rented our home…and had an older car. Mom provided for my sister and I alright and we haven’t been on welfare. Even so, money was tight. I could never imagine living in a house as large and luxurious as the ones I was looking at. There must have been at least seven or eight bedrooms in each main house…and probably just as many bathrooms. Imagine that….not having to share a bathroom with Sarah anymore. It brought a smile to my face.
The lights and decorations on the mansions looked so elegant. It was my absolute favorite stop every year. My mom always worried that we would get arrested, because of the looks of our car. “Surely, they’ll think we’re casing the joint,” she always joked. One of the houses had a huge tree in the middle of the spacious, front yard, and they always decorated it to look like a Christmas tree, complete with the tree skirt and larger than life presents underneath. It was so big, it reminded me of the tree at the end of the How the Grinch Stole Christmas cartoon special. If I would ever become rich, I’d want to give my Mom a Christmas tree like that…with just as many presents.
We continued looking at more houses and more pretty lights, but I must have fallen asleep because I awoke to my Mom tucking me in to bed.
“Sweet dreams, Jimmy,” she said as she kissed my forehead.
“Goodnight, Mom,” I lazily muttered back.
BBBBBZZZZZ. BBBBBZZZZZ. BBBBBZZZZZ. BBBBBZZZZZ.
I hated my alarm clock. Connor had an iPod dock that would wake him to his favorite music. I didn’t have an iPod or cell phone…hell; we didn’t even have enough money for a generic mp3 player. I tossed my simple but effective alarm clock across the room and slowly got out of bed.
I had to bang on the bathroom door
, repeatedly. “Hurry up!” As usual, Sarah was in there doing her makeup. “You can do that in your room,” I suggested for about the millionth time.
“I have to look extra, extra hot today, you know…so I can make Andrew jealous,” she explained as she exited our only bathroom, “…so, chill out, dweeb.”
“Whatever…” I mumbled as I closed the door and started the shower. I wasn’t really a vain guy. I didn’t get haircuts every two weeks like Connor, or workout religiously like Mikey. Most days I barely ran a comb through my hair. But, I thought I was an attractive enough guy, in an average sort of way.
After getting ready and grabbing my book bag, I made my way next door to Connor’s so we could head to the bus stop. We always rode the bus on cold mornings, because it was just too cold and early to make a hike to school in the snow and ice. Most of our friends got rides to school from their parents, but Connor’s parents and my Mom were already at work by the time school started.
As we pulled up to the school, Mikey was there waiting. “What took ya’ll so long?” he asked with a fake, southern drawl.
“We’re here at the same time as always, Mikey,” I replied. He just punched my shoulder and started telling us about the cool, new tablet computer he got last night for Hanukkah. Mikey lived on the wealthier side of town. His parents were both doctors, so he tended to always have the best of everything. I liked living vicariously through him, especially when he would tell us about all the new gadgets he got as presents. But, after 10 minutes of him rambling on about this new $700 tablet computer, even I was jealous and ready to change the subject. “So….how did you guys think you did on yesterday’s English Lit test?” I offered to steer the subject in a different direction.
“I aced that biotch!” exclaimed Mikey, even though he rarely got anything above a “C.”
“I think I did pretty well, too,” I stated.
Of course, Mikey had to start in on me, again. “I’m surprised you could concentrate on the test, what, with you drooling over April all day.”
“I think that was you, Mike!” Connor interjected, coming to my rescue yet again. “We’d better get to homeroom, though, before the bell rings.” We took our seats just as the second bell rang.
The rest of the day went by without incident. In Biology, April even gave me a note that of course smelled of roses. I waited until last period, though, to read it:
Jimmy,
I think you’re really cute. I hope you think I’m pretty, also.
I was hoping you’d ask me to the Winter Dance, if you don’t already have a date.
Let me know…okay?
April
It was a short note, but one that made me very happy. It got me equally as nervous, though. I had never even held a girl’s hand…so how was I going to take one to the dance? I had nothing to wear, and I’d have to get a corsage. At the end of the night, she’d probably expect me to kiss her. It’s not that I didn’t want to, but what if I was bad at it and she told everyone at school? I definitely didn’t want Mikey to know about this note, but I’d probably tell Connor about it on the way home from school.
“Hey, Connor,” I started as we made our way home, “April gave me a note today in Biology.”
“No way, dude! That’s great….what’d it say?”
“She wants to go to the Winter Dance with me.” I explained. Connor thought that was great. “But, I’m scared. I have never been that close to a girl. How will I know if I should kiss her?”
“You’ll just know,” he offered with confidence. Connor had kissed a few girls over the last year, even though he never really dated any of them.
“How will I know how to kiss,” I asked, “…so I don’t gross her out?”
My best friend just started cracking up laughing. “You know I’m your best friend and would do anything for you, dude….but, I’m not kissing you!” he teased. Hearing that made me laugh and lightened my mood.
That is, until we rounded the next corner. Blue and red lights were flashing near my house. I could see a portly police officer putting my Mom in the back of a squad car. She was handcuffed!
I forgot about Connor and the note from April, and sprinted to my house as the police car containing my Mom drove off. I don’t know when I started crying, but tears were streaming down my face. At first, I figured it was just snowflakes that landed on me, melting. I was screaming, trying to catch my mother. I didn’t know what was going on. As I reached my house, a tall, middle-aged, uniformed officer asked if I was James Nelson.
“Where did you take my Mom?” I screamed, through my sobbing and tears.
“It’ll be alright, son,” the officer told me. “Are you James Nelson?”
“YES! YES! Why did you take my Mom away?” I demanded.
“Because she isn’t your Mom,” the tall officer answered.
That’s all I remember before I fainted.
Crime at Cripple Creek (The Sisters Week Series #1) Page 15
