There she was again. Sitting on the bench by the silver post, her chestnut hair dangling down to the paper she was writing on. With an adorable cringe of her face as she pushed the curls into place and continued to scribble. What was she writing? And why did she like to write it here? On the corner of Alm Street facing the old park. There wasn't much here, an old building stood directly behind her and there was a collection of ancient homes at the end of the lane. No one came this side, no one but her and I. I liked to walk to the haunted street and think as I sat on the park wall but what was her excuse? What did she find so interesting about this old forgotten lane?
I'd seen her twice before. The first time I'd just finished smoking a Silk Cut in the park and I heard her footsteps coming round the bend. I thought it was Jimmy trying to catch me in the act so I hid behind the bushes. And then I saw her, she wasn't much of anything really, the most in-between girl I'd ever seen. She isn't skinny or fat, she isn't too light or too dark. She's a medium in many things but why was she so captivating? I just watched her from the bushes, I observed. Her fingers were so delicate, long cords of artistry carefully writing. I could barely see her eyes, there was a boundary of glass blocking me, thick-rimmed glass that made her look ever so clever. Today she was wearing a flimsy purple dress that almost flew up to her face as she walked to the corner of the street. I'd watched her curse as she fixed it down, swearing at the fabric that was draped over her in-between body. There was a backpack upon her back, a raggedly pink think with little flowers embroidered into the shabby cloth. From this bag came her notebook, it was pink.
Today I'd make it known that she wasn't as alone as she thought she was. Of course I wouldn't mention that I'd watched her twice. That would make me out to be quite suspicious. I couldn't have her thinking that of me. Look at me actually caring about this stranger's opinion! Normally i didn't care what strangers thought of me and I'd never taken the time to formulate an introduction this long. Normally I'd give them my hand and that would be it. But not today, today I was putting together words. Words I'd run away from at school, big words. No, she'd see right through that. I know she would. By the time I finally decided to immerge from the old park she was gathering her things and impatiently stuffing them in her bag.
“hello.” I said. It was a whisper I guess, maybe because my nerves were beating at my voice-box and my heart was pounding the conga as I said them.
“Ahhhhh!” she screamed without turning around. Her bag fell to the ground. “Oh my god, oh my goodness I'm getting mugged.” she whispered with her body still facing the old building. I too was in shock, I only meant to do this as subtly as possible now she thought I was going to mug her. What next?
“I'm...I'm not going to hurt you..” I managed to stammer out. She turned around uneasily and we were face to face. Her eyes, those eyes that were ever so shielded were the most beautiful green I'd ever seen. I'd been to the deepest of forests in this part of Brodendale and I'd never seen such a rich green, bursting with life. I was dumbstruck and didn't even hear what she said.
“Darn it I said who are you?!” she yelled. My mind switched on again as I watched her face redden, she was angry but you wouldn't really know it because anger has never looked so pretty.
“I'm sorry, I'm Mexico Morland.” I put my hand out. I looked at it and saw it was still stained with the residues of my Silk Cut. I wiped it on my trousers that I only remembered weren't that clean either and put it out again. She eyed it a little and then shook it quickly, forgot I was still there and wiped her hand on the side of her purple dress. When she realized my eyes followed her hand she quickly put it in front of her, blushing nervously. I picked up her bag and dusted it off.
“Sorry, i didn't mean to scare you.”
“Lots of things scare me, you're not the first.” she smiled. It wasn't a smile that fit, almost as though it wasn't real at all. Perhaps it's because i imagined it different, a little wider, with a little more glow. What was that word Mr Morris always used? Hmmm.. radiant I think. Yes, I imagined it more radiant. A few strands of hair came lose from her hair-tie and landed straight in her face. She sighed and whipped them up again then leaned forward to accept her bag. “Thank you” that smile again. “is your name really Mexico?” she asked as she put it on her back.
“I'll answer that question when you tell me yours.” I replied. Then decided it best I calm my face with a smile. A radiant smile.
She chuckled and tipped her head slightly forward and we were eye to eye. “Guess we'll both have to live with never really knowing.” that smile once more. Then she turned her back to me and began walking on the pavement that lead back to the town. I was numb for a while. I watched her for a while but then I realized that I'd done enough of that. I'd watched her too many times, now she was there right in front of me so I'd best talk to her. “Hey, wait up now!” I called after her then ran to her side.
“Yes my name really is Mexico.”
chapter 2
Jimmy isn't feeling well so I'll have to take care of him whilst Ma goes about her business. It's been us three since as far back as i could remember. Though I don't miss the middleman, I hardly ever think about him and Ma hardly ever mentions him. Its like he doesn't exist, like he never did. We've never been too bad a pair for her to handle, at least not Jimmy. I don't think I trouble her, she's learned to understand me. Like my quitting going to school, she knew I'd never liked it much probably because I'd never been good at it. It didn't make her mad that I stopped, she only said what she always says “As long as you help around here boy then I'm alright.”. Somehow though I wish she was disappointed deep inside, that she'd had big dreams for me and she thought I could've actually done more with my life, been somebody. That would make me feel good, if she'd cried it would even make me feel better. I bet I sound cruel but it would make me so happy if she had a speck of faith in me, belief that I'd never be like the middleman.
Jimmy says he has the flu. He never likes to miss school, always been a good boy. Probably why he's come home more than once all bruised up because as much as I remember school I know no one likes a tattle-tell. I've had to clean him up a couple of times so Ma wouldn't wonder what happened. Even came up with some good lies and I told Jimmy to keep his mouth shut or he'd worry Ma to death and earn himself yet another round of poundings.
He's decided to lie in bed and have me serve him soup. Ma almost stayed home because she was worried. I couldn't have her missing work, I'd feel too guilty. I already feel like a bum half of the time. Its not like I haven't tried to get myself a job but times are hard round these parts. The lines at the factories are long as hell, everyone wants work but there seems to be none. So I am here, the man of the house feeding my brother soup. And wondering where that girl was, the girl from Alm Street. She let me walk her to the town and said it was best we separate. We talked a little on the way, just in bits. She asked me about my name again and asked why I was called Mexico, I simply said it was a long story. She told me that she goes to school on the upper side of town, somehow I already knew it. People who went to school on this side of town weren't easy to miss, they all had attitudes and loved to be right in the middle of chaos. That's the life in downtown Brodendale. Most of the folks on this side are general poppers, we live in tiny houses with rats and problems with the plumbing. I think one day soon this part of town will be as deserted as the old houses on Alm street. I've seen the upper side and it doesn't look like this. Reminds me of the history classes back at Brodendale High, when they spoke about classes and how there is the rich and the poor.
I feed him the soup and hear him use his sore throat to say that its too hot. That's just like old Jimmy, always complaining about this and that. He drives Ma crazy sometimes and I think it kinda makes her feel sad. She'd like to be able to feed us nice things and buy us expensive clothes and stuff so whenever Jimmy complains I know it hurts her. I suppose kids are like that, he's five years younger than me but at his age I was five times more mature.
I leave on the beside-table and tell him to wait. He starts to wine, i can tell, but a string out sneezes stops him. I go and stand by the window. We've always shared this room, a tiny room at the corner of the house. Outside the window there's nothing much, except the small backyard we share with the neighbors. Our houses are practically combined and the walls are so thin I swear i can hear what goes on next door. Not like I'm up eavesdropping, nope I'm just naturally up. I've never mastered sleeping, I can barely ever sleep. I don't bother telling Ma, being the way she is she'll worry. I've been like this for a long time, as long as I could remember, even when the middleman was here I was up at night. I'd sit there in my sheets just listening to them go at it, the fighting, the swearing, everything raw and scary, nothing a child should ever hear. And when Ma came in to feed Jimmy I'd pretend to be sleeping but I'd hear her crying. Nowa-nights I simply look at the ceiling because I've already counted all the sheep in the universe.
I guess I'm stuck here all day looking after Jimmy. I wish I was out there because I have this feeling, deep in me that she's gonna be sitting on that bench writing away. And because of my darn brother I wouldn't get to see her.
I have a few friends. I've been a gang kinda guy, its just not me. People don't have that effect on me, you know the kind that makes you always wanna talk to them or hang out as frequently as you can. Not really. I just can't be bothered to plan such things. I've known Freddie and Lewis since I was a baby, but of course no one knew ever comes round these parts so I've known each and everyone of them since I was in my diapers. Freddie lives a couple houses down and Lewis lives wherever he can. He said he'd had enough of his parents so apparently he ran away. He had not a single penny to leave this town with so he became somebody else's burden. We are all poor so no one likes the idea of that much, a boy like him walking around feeding off of others instead of working for it. Its kinda weird seeing as he sees his folks every day. Then if it wasn't bad enough he had to go and knock Estella up. How on earth can he feed that kid?
Freddie is more focused. He actually still in school, he'll be finishing this year. I think he wants to go on to the University, not that he's ever be dumb enough to suggest it amongst us numskulls. I understand him feeling bad for us all, even understand him feeling happy that he has a chance to make it out of this place.
I see them coming up the hill, chattering along. Lewis is the loudest person I know yet he has the least most important things to say. The boy has never had one intelligent thing to say but he's never had a girl problem in his life. Like ants on sugar I tell you.
“Hey there's our chap!!” the loud one screamed. And their steps quickened.
I've never learned how to confine in people, to tell em things. I guess secrets is the proper word for it, I have many more than most should. They build a wall around me, a wall no one has ever cared to knock down. Ma and I don't talk about anything that matters, she doesn't even tell me about the bills and things. I thought that at 18 she'd trust me more with those kind of details. I learned to keep it all in from her, to hide it away, her place is her room mine is the old park. Before I'd go out there at night, and just scream. Sit in the old tire swing and as I swing along I'd scream on top of my voice. Men hardly cry, at least men like me. I don't remember when I last sobbed like Ma does every now and then. I told you the walls are thin, I told you I don't sleep. And that's another thing, I hear more than I should. I've always been a great listener, whilst everyone else is deep in conversation I simply stand there listening.
There is another line-up tomorrow at the factory, they are hiring 25 men to work in the shoe department, actually the sole department if you wanna narrow it down. No one dreams of growing up to make soles but I barely do any of that, dreaming. And if I do I don't remember. Freddie told me about the line-up, his dad works in management so he'd know that bit. Jimmy isn't sick any more so I can go wherever I'd like. Ma is grabbing her purse from the kitchen, it was on that old chest where she kept the dishes. She never really had nice things, a few things I guess were nice but not many, not as many as a lady as beautiful as her should. Ma is a seamstress, she's always done the sewing bit. She works for the old Lady Millstone in town. Sometimes customers send Ma to Boswell to sew em gowns at their big fancy houses. She always brings us back a treat. “I'm working on fitting with the fussiest of women today. So I don't think I'll be home early boys.” she sighed. “I've left dinner in the fridge, you can warm it up Mexico. Don't you burn down this house, you hear?” she was now standing right in front of me. Ma is tall and slender, with this beautiful milky skin and this long auburn hair, that she always wears in a messy ponytail. Her eyes are blue and her face is long and pretty. The middleman was a lucky man, he just never stuck around long enough to see it. I nodded and so did Jimmy. He was packing his bag on the kitchen counter, in one hand a book in the other a sandwich that he was chewing on so loudly. She sighed and then put her hands on her hips. She worries as much as she breaths, I think.
“Go on then Ma.” I say trying to bring her back to earth. She shakes her head then kisses Jimmy and I both on the cheeks. As much as I wanted to stop this habit I couldn't help but feel I owned her this little once of affection, so every morning I gave in and let her kiss my cheek. Sometimes I feared she'd smell the tobacco right off of me. She left a fiver on the table and said goodbye. I watched her go, the loud clank of her shoes as she walked, 'they could you a new sole' I thought. The thought made me smile.
“Whatchu smiling for?” I'd almost forgotten he was there.
“Hurry up eh, I don't want smack from you. Cheeky.” I said a bit embarrassed that he'd caught me, I dunno, thinking..With that he stuffed the sandwich down and put his bag on. Jimmy looks nothing like Ma or me, he was short and chubby. His hair is dirt blond and his face quite round. He looks more like the middleman, he's always looked like him. Ma likes it if I walk Jimmy. He knows the way, he's old enough to walk by himself but I do it cause she says so. This time of morning its pretty cold especially in February, I think its worse than December. The cold air punches my face and I can feel it turning red. “Mexico, you blushing?” Jimmy jokes. I tap his head playfully as we walk. He loves to talk, can talk all day, so I let him. I even make him believe I'm listening. We walk into town and I leave him at the school gate, I tell him I'll see him later. And that we'll use the fiver for ice-cream, at that he smiles. Food he can never say no to.
I watch him walk in, and see a few boys gathered by the stairs simply starring at him. Those must be the gang who beat him up, immature for their height. I lean against the brick fence and watch the students go in the gates. Some girls smile and some walk up to me and say 'Hi Mexico'. They giggle once they say my name. I know em all, grown up around them been bullied by their brothers or had to go to their birthday parties when I was younger. Clarissa Phillips and Terrence Millstone walk up to me, they fancy themselves beauties but from where my feet are they aren't much for the eyes. They used to be in my class. I'm not here for them but they are determined. I think they think I'm that bad boy.
“How are you Mexico?” Clarissa says as she plays with her blond hair. Terrence simply smiles, trying to flirt with her eyes.
“Fine.” I say in a low voice.
“Don't you miss us all?” Now Terrence speaks. I lean back more against the wall, putting my foot on the brick and looking up into another galaxy.
“Well don't you?”Clarissa asks. I nod but I don't look at them. Lucky for me the bell goes off, old Mr Morris rings that thing like a crazy man. On and on and on. Finally they disappear after saying goodbye more than once. I haven't seen Freddie yet, I've been waiting for him. He never misses school and I need to know if the line-up is still on.
Not a soul around, it's Sunday. Everyone goes to Church. The big old church near the town, with the tall colored windows and those uncomfortable seats. The whole town gathers there, at least it looks that way. If people ain't at church then they are in their houses or they are at the more. A lot of teens love to hang out by the more. It's an outstretch of green grass right behind all the houses, some people call it the park but there's nothing but grass out there. No fountains, or swings. Its just plain. And though the grass is damp from the dew people are still out there, kicking around balls or simply hanging out. I know for sure those kids from the high-school are out there, and I know for sure Lewis is out there too. He's never believed in God, said his life is proof of it. The others just go out there to seem cool.
Ma took Jimmy to church before I got up. She knows I've never liked that church, and somehow I think she thinks I've never liked God so she doesn't bother. I believe in God, He is up there alright. I just don't like stuffing myself into a huge crowd of sweating people and listen to Pastor Bill scream his lungs out. I don't the more either, I never have. So on Sundays I find myself walking past town to Alm street.
It's the same, silent. The chilly morning makes the sky look gloomy, the dusty road of the lane is wet and the entire street is as lifeless as ever, you can't even hear birds. I sit on the rotting old bench looking out at the old park. There is a short brick wall round the park, it is molded but it makes a comfy seat whenever I want to. Right across the bench on the other side of the dusty road is the park gate. It is a rusting black gate with these angels welded in, I bet it used to be beautiful. I pull out a Silk Cut and light it up. 'I should stop' I think then I shrug the thought away. Why should I? My mind drifts away cigarette after cigarette.
There she was. Waiting, her pretty fingers on the silver post as she looked at the park. She was wearing a red dress that fit her so perfectly that it made something in me move. I tried to make my footsteps loud so she wouldn't think I was creeping up on her. I learnt my lesson the last time. “Hey you over there! Watchu looking at?” I called. She turned around swiftly and for the first time I think I saw her real smile. Her radiant smile. It made her whole face light up I tell you, was like how Boswell looks at night. Everything's always bright down that side, you'd think night was day. It was beautiful, it made her face all the more prettier. There was definitely nothing in-between about that smile, it was one of a kind.
“Well if it isn't Mexico?” her hands went to her hips. “least you've learnt to stop lurking in the shadows and scarring people.” suddenly she chuckled. I find myself right in front of her. She came closer like she was gonna touch me, almost did as she reached for her pink bag that was on the bench.
“C'mon then. I've never been in the park, take me.” she whispered as she flung the bag over her back. Today her hair was in a ponytail, long locks dangled down her bag.
“okay.” I said taking the lead. I wish I knew her name. “Wait.” I stopped in the middle of the dusty road.
“What is it?”
“I'll show you, but you'll have to give me your name. No point in us being strangers.” I say. That smile appears and I feel my heart do the Hooke-pockie. She comes closer to me. Left leg in, left leg out do the Hooke-pockie and you turn yourself around. Then she slips her hand into mine. And that's what its all about! “There we're not strangers any more.” she whispers. My tongue lets me down, I've lost my voice. I settle for simply squeezing her hand and walking to the old park.
The old park. The ground has weeds and every flower ever planted here died long ago, all that is left are dried up old leaves. It is a small park, we can see it all from the gate. It is so lifeless, the old benches rusted
“Lets go there.” she points to the gazebo. It is nothing but a few pillars holding a ceiling with a hole right through it. She tugs at my hand and we run so fast there I could swear we flew. We're under the gazebo but we can see the sky. It used to have a red round roof but when it caved in the sunlight burst right through. There isn't much sunlight in this weather but from under the gazebo it feels like heaven seeped right through that hole. We are both starring up at the clouds, still hand in hand and I get this feeling like if there was any time right for me to die it'd be right here. I'd want nothing more than to have this moment be my last. Suddenly we are looking at each other in the eyes, and I put my free hand on her neck. She tingles as my cold fingers touch her. I pull her close and it feels like our souls connect when our lips meet. No, I've changed my mind. This is the moment, this is the moment I want to be my last.
Life is a ticket to the greatest show on earth.
Martin H. Fischer
I'm The.Dreamwalker but most people call me Dream, and I'm here to do a review! Hopefully its up to the YWS standards of good reviewing these days ;D