Dragon in the Dishwater, Ch 1
Dragon in the Dishwater
Chapter 1
Copyright 2005 comidacomida
Author Forward: Eric Bradish is an angsty teenager who has been exposed to a lot of hardship within the past few years. Having withdrawn as much from human interaction as possible, Eric is about to have his life turned upside down yet again... this time, perhaps for the better.
I do not recall where I first heard the term "Dragon in the Dishwater", but it struck me as profound: an extrordinary thing found in a mundane, every day place. Choosing this as the title for the story seems so very appropriate, as the story will quickly come to involve the extrordinary but, also, will come to show how ordinary people in adverse conditions can quickly become more than they appear, and achieve more than they knew possible.
The MIG was on his tail and the missile lock warning was going off. His
vision was flashing, and he knew he'd have to do something, or it would end right
there. Pressing forward on the stick, Eric hit the afterburner control. It was a
stupid stunt, but it just might help. The greenery far below filled his vision, with
little black tinges around the edge of his sight showing that the descent was too
fast... that it would mean a blackout and, shortly thereafter, one very sudden stop
when his F-16 met up with the earth.
He pulled back sharply on the stick... then screamed as his vision was
engulfed in flame; his risky maneuver failed to pay off. The enemy missile had
struck home, and there was nothing left to do but watch as another F-16 fell to
the ground in a smoke-trailing ball of flame. Eric tossed his joystick across the
room; it was his eighth attempt at the air combat mission, and his exclamation
said it all, "FUCK!"
The young man collapsed backward on his bed, letting his videogame
console finish the "game over" music. The largest problem he found with the
difficult game was not that it took an eternity to master, rather, that there was no
save option during the mission for when things were going well... not to mention
how long it took for the game to reset so he could try again. Many would contest
that it was just not worth the time to beat... but Eric had plenty of time, and there
wasn't much else going on.
Eric had chosen F-16: Gulf Attack over any other game specifically
because the gamer magazines called it "impossible for the layman", and
countless online sources had numerous posts calling it "a waste of time"; he was
always drawn to anything that was labeled as a time waster or impossible.
Glancing at the homework-- a messy stack of papers and books, Eric turned
back to the television. He reached off the bed to grab the cord of the joystick and
he yanked it back within reach. It was Friday night, which meant that there would
be two more days to get his homework done.
Mechanically, Eric went through the motions of the primary take-off,
advancing game speed over the stretch of water, then slowing it back down as
he approached the shores of what would technically be Qatar, "Not exactly
realistic." he told himself, "Pine trees in the Middle East..." To him, it always
seemed that videogames failed to focus on the real details of life... maybe that's
why he spent so much time engrossed in them.
Eric sat up straight, hitting the pause button as he heard the front door
slam downstairs. He quickly tucked the controller back into its cubby in the
entertainment center, and switched the television off, nimbly covering the glowing
light on the videogame console with a carefully prepared black sticker. Now, with
the entertainment center appearing to be completely off, Eric hurled the chair at
his desk, and opened his Calculus book. He frantically sifted through the desk
until he found a mechanical pencil, and readied it as he heard the footsteps
coming up the stairs.
"Eric, honey..." his mom's voice called through the door. She gave her
patented precursory triple-knock and then invited herself in. He looked up from
the book and glanced over his shoulder. "I knocked." she offered, noting the sour
expression on his face.
"You didn't wait for an answer." he replied flatly.
She scowled slightly in response but quickly offered in an almost
apologetic smile, "I'm getting better at least."
Eric shrugged and returned to his book, the prospect of homework starting
to look better and better, "Yea." he offered noncommittally, "Yea you are."
"Well excuse me..." she added, moving in to start tidying his bed, "The
whole 'stay out of my son's life' thing is still new."
Eric let out a sigh, but didn't answer; there was no reasoning with Linda
Bradish when she got into her motherly "groove". She sat down on the corner of
his bed and began discussing his day at school, his homework, and how his
friends were doing. Eric offered a noncommittal shrug in response to most of her
questions, especially the ones regarding his friends.
Since the beginning of middle school Eric hadn't had any friends and now,
six years later, that hadn't changed. Unfortunately for him it still hadn't sunk in
for his mother; Eric was convinced that she wouldn't ever be able to understand
what "unpopular" meant or that some people just couldn't make friends easily. It
often got so bad that Eric believed she was actively trying to sabotage his alone
time... and she was very good at it.
Though his mother tried her best to get him involved outside of school and
to set up what she considered to be "fun activities" for him, Eric just didn't mesh
into anything anyone considered a normal social group. He didn't mind not fitting
in at all but it seemed to grate on his mother endlessly. She was always talking
about kids who holed up in their rooms turning into serial killers or high school
gun slingers. At times like that Eric could only scowl inwardly; it only illustrated
their difference in points of view.
After what seemed like an eternity, Eric's mother finally stood up, gave
him a hug and kissed his cheek then headed right out of the room. Looking
down at his homework, Eric sighed. He glanced at the clock: sixty two problems
in an hour and nineteen minutes. It wasn't his best record for homework while
being subjected to his mother, but it wasn't bad. Sometimes he was convinced
that he wouldn't ever get his homework done if it wasn't for his mother's constant
forays into his room. Even so, it certainly was a good start for senior year, and
he was sure he would beat his record before the year ended.
It wasn't that he was actively trying to antagonize her... he just needed his
space and she never gave any. Eric tapped the eraser of the pencil on the desk
a few times as he heard her head back down the stairs to start on dinner. He let
out another sigh and slid his homework page into the book and closed it. The
young man set his pencil down on the desk and flopped back onto his bed. He
grumbled to himself over his mother's newest idea: she was going to bring him to
the park tomorrow.
"Kill me now, God... just kill me now."
* * * * * *
The sun was shining and the sky was a perfect shade of blue. It was
warm out without it being too warm, and the cool breeze was just soft enough to
make the weather fresh without a cold bite. It was the kind of day where
everyone on the street smiled because Saturdays were only ever that perfect in
stories or on television-- and Eric hated it.
Walking around to the back of his mother's station wagon he popped the
hatch and took out a bed sheet and a wicker basket. His mother slowly climbed
out of the driver's seat and opened the second door on the driver's side, grabbing
her portable radio. Eric withered on the inside at the picturesque, sickeningly
mundane idea of a picnic at the park, and his scowl deepened.
"Eric, I'm gonna go find a good spot under a tree. When you have
everything together just come and find me." his mom said, heading off towards
the park proper, avoiding the playground and the paved skateboard half pipe.
Letting out a sigh, Eric crumpled up the sheet over the basket and hauled them
along in his arms, walking after his mother.
Approaching the place where his mother stood, Eric stopped. She had
chosen a shaded spot with thick grass beneath a broad, tall oak. "Why a picnic?"
he asked at length.
His mother looked to him and took the bed sheet from his grasp. She
began smoothing it out on the ground, busying herself with the activity as she
spoke, "Why not?"
"Because sun burns can lead to cancer." he replied flatly.
"So can sitting in front of the computer all day." she retorted, taking the
basket out of his grasp. Eric's mother set the basket down atop the sheet and
turned to regard him, taking a seat next to it, "Besides, we never do anything as a
family anymore."
Eric rolled his eyes, "So you wait till after dad leaves before you start
thinking about family stuff, huh?" If his brain had thought just a half second faster
he would have kept the words from coming out of his mouth, but he had the
presence of mind not to outwardly show his sudden surprise at his own callous
comment. His mother looked as if she had been hit by a rolled-up brick.
"E-Eric..." she stuttered, false-starting twice before she could even say his
name. He sat uncomfortably as she continued, "You know my therapist and I
talked about this, and he thinks it might be good for me to-"
"No... you think it might be good for you to." stated Eric, "Therapists are
paid to listen to what patients have to say, then force the patients to come up
with answers to their own problems. They earn their money because they can be
the scapegoats when their patients come up with stupid solutions. 'Oh, it wasn't
my idea, it was my therapist's.' and all that crap." he could have handled it better,
but, by that point, he was uncomfortable enough without having to listen to his
mother's reminiscing of her therapy sessions; he'd heard it too often already and
that was the last kind of interaction he wanted.
"I've gotten a lot better since I started going." she offered in her own
defense.
"Whatever." was his only reply. Eric grabbed one of the sandwiches from
the basket along with a can of soda that had been packed within a bag of ice and
stood up, "I'll meet you back at the car." He headed off into the park, ignoring
any further comments she directed at him, bagged sandwich in one hand, and
aluminum can in the other.
Eric didn't head back in the direction of the car, at least, not immediately.
The young man walked further into the shaded area of the park, large trees
growing up high around him. He remembered coming to the park what felt like
ages ago, laughing with friends he no longer spoke with, playing games he had
long since chosen to forget, and smiling in ways that were alien to him now. It
almost seemed to have taken place in a different life... one that had ended the
day his dad left for good.
He sat down beneath a tree thinking about that, idly taking a bite of the
turkey sandwich then chewing disinterestedly before washing it down with a swig
of cola. Eric's father had never been a big influence on his life. The man had
worked almost every day for the 15 years Eric had been in existence. Every day
when he got home, the enigma that was Eric's father would sit down in front of
the television with a beer until dinner was ready. Of course... dinner was magic
time.
Eric remembered dinner being his favorite time of the day. His mom
would finish preparing a big, home-cooked meal and call everyone into the dining
room. His dad would turn off the TV and actually join his family for what became
the greatest ritual of Eric's life: family time. It was during dinner that his dad
became a person; the curtain of mystery surrounding Eric's father figure would
part, and Eric would have the chance to actually glimpse the man behind the
wall. It was at that time that Eric's dad would smile and laugh and chuckle, and
talk.
Eric didn't really care what the discussions were about. Sometimes his
father would talk about what happened about work. One day it might be a
discussion about Marty, a coworker. On another day his dad would talk about
politics. There were times when his father would actually talk about his family,
and future outing plans or upcoming vacation time that never seemed to
manifest. Sometimes he would talk about Nina, one of the executive assistants.
Eric stopped thinking about dinner, having hit an unpleasant note.
He stood up, dusting his jeans off as he tossed an empty sandwich bag to
one side. Draining the last of his soda, the young man left the empty can on one
of the markers, balancing it on the thick wooden stake beside the path leading
through the trees. Eric rubbed his hands together, getting the last of the
breadcrumbs off of them and started the short jaunt back to the car. His mother
would be getting worried if he took much longer, and he already knew he'd get to
hear a big lecture about the meaning of "family time".
Pausing for just a moment, Eric slowed to admire a collection of stones
haphazardly strewn about the side of the path. He moved over to the many
rocks and casually moved a few aside, looking over the small pile. With the eye
of an expert, Eric selected three stones out of the pile, one about the size of a
marble, another almost golf ball size, and the third not quite the size of his fist.
He put the first two into one pocket with his wallet, and slid the third into a side
pocket on its own.
Eric knew the ride home would be unpleasant, especially since he ditched
his mother on the "family outing", but at least he found a few more rocks to add to
his collection. If there was one thing having a lot of extra time was good for it
was making collections... and Eric had quite a few. The pride of his collection of
collections, by far, was his rock collection. Eric was always on the look out for
oddly shaped stones and strangely formed rocks. Sometimes it was color that
caught his eye, and at other times it was shape, but, to be sure, he had one of
most varied collection of rocks out there.
"Have fun?" she asked, the question devoid of tone and her body
language purposefully muted. He didn't respond, climbing into the passenger's
side of the station wagon without a word. She let out a sigh, getting into the
driver's seat before looking across space that separated them, "You hate me,
don't you?"
It was Eric's turn to sigh, having become quite used to that question, "No, I
don't hate you." he responded, "If I were to hate you it'd be because you're
always asking me if I hate you, and it's getting old." The two didn't exchange
another word on the way home.
* * * * * *
Halloween was three weeks later and Eric hadn't been invited to any
parties. It was exactly what he expected, but, as usual, his mother was up in
arms about it. Eric was just about to give up and retreat to his room when she
finally began to calm and she approached him in an almost reasonable manner
before he had the opportunity to run off.
"Eric, honey, whatever happened to that nice Katelyn girl from your U.S.
History class?" she questioned, "If anyone would have invited you to a Halloween
party she would have."
Eric covered his face, mumbling before he turned and looked to her,
"Mom... Katelyn is one of the 'in crowd'... those are the people who use others to
get what they want. Katelyn wanted to get a good grade in the class so she
latched onto me hoping I'd help her cheat or something."
"Maybe she wanted a study partner." his mother offered amiably.
Eric let out a harsh, condescending sigh, "Mom... if she wanted a study
partner she'd have asked Rick Matthews... that's her boyfriend. The 'in crowd'
doesn't study with their study partners, okay?"
Eric's mother let out a deep breath, "I'm just saying-"
"If she invited me to a party it would be as a pizza delivery boy, or as the
target of some cruel joke." Eric noted dryly.
"Well... maybe if you would accept offers like that more often you might
get invited to more parties." his mother ventured.
"Mom... please... just stop." Eric turned away, heading up the stairs, "I
don't want to hear it."
His mother sighed in failure, heading off into the kitchen as he made his
way upstairs. Eric closed the door and sat down on the bed. He pulled out the
game controller and turned on his TV, muting it as the game loaded up. Eric had
spent the better part of a month on the same mission... and he was convinced
that he would get past it that night... even if he had to stay up until it was time for
school. The game was a convenient distraction that the young man intended to
make full use of.
His cursing reached a crescendo after his seventh death that night,
bringing his total to fifty-something F-16s lost on that mission alone. It was well
past midnight by that time and Eric had no choice but to call it a night to avoid
awakening his mother with the sound of breaking videogame console. Shutting
off the gaming system, Eric glanced to his unfinished calculus homework for the
day and sat down at his desk, going through the busy work with mechanical
precision, barely even focusing on the problems as he took them step by step,
confident enough that he could do them in his sleep.
Eric awoke with an hour and a half to go before school, his face plastered
against the cover of his calculus book, pencil still in hand, homework set aside--
complete. He rubbed the side of his face, wondering if the cover of his book
would leave a discoloration on his cheek as if he were silly putty. He didn't
bother looking in the mirror as he got ready, not particularly interested in finding
out one way or another.
The young man went through his morning routine of getting ready for
school, smugly pleased that, after eight years of sociological hell he was finally in
his last year. Eric grabbed his homework and stuffed it into his backpack then
headed down to the first floor. The young man went into the kitchen, sifting
through the cabinets and the fridge looking for a quick bite. He was always glad
to have time alone to himself and was thankful that his mom had an early shift at
her job; it gave him the whole morning before school to enjoy the silence of being
alone.
Eric made quick work of a bowl of generic cereal and tossed his dirty bowl
and spoon up beside the pile of dishes already cluttering the counter. The last
two years saw a lot of changes around the house as his mother went through the
downward spiral of abandonment. What was once a spotless, well kept kitchen
degraded into an occasionally somewhat-clean area where food was kept far
away from the danger-zone that was the counter, and the fridge that was only
sometimes emptied of two-week-old leftovers.
As Eric headed to school his mind began to wander back to happier times.
He remembered the simple joys of basking in the presence of his parents as he
sat beside them on the sofa, his family enjoying a movie... or even a television
sitcom. It was only a little over two years ago, but it felt so far away. He knew
that those times would never be within reach again but he couldn't force himself
to give up on the memories or to forget the happiness he used to know.
He stepped into the hallway, the squirming masses of fellow students
mulling all over, always in his way, chatting, talking, conversing... he passed by
Rick Matthews, who was all over Crystal Burke, the two of the teens virtually dry-
humping in the hall. Eric passed right by, wondering how much longer Rick and
Katelyn would be a couple if Rick kept being so nonchalant about his activities
with other women. Not being the gossiping type, nor the kind of person that
particularly enjoyed soap operas, Eric put the thoughts right out of his mind, and
headed into his first period class.
"Mister Bradish," noted his first period math teacher, "You're late."
Eric did a double take, looking at the clock: 7:50. He looked back to his
teacher, "Mr. Oliver, it isn't 8:00 yet."
Quincy Oliver, his calculus teacher chuckled. The big black man had a
humor few could understand-- and fewer tried. Mr. Oliver leaned back in his
chair, hands resting behind his head against the salt-and-pepper, short cut hair.
He twitched his mustache before speaking, "I mean you're late for you. Usually I
see you in here by fifteen till... at the latest."
Eric shrugged in response, "Sorry to disappoint you."
He took a seat in his usual spot. Math class was one of his favorites
because Mr. Oliver had the long standing rule that students could sit wherever
they wanted... which meant Eric got to be by himself. It was a decent enough
arrangement and the young man felt it suited everyone, especially because of
the fact that Mr. Oliver was able to isolate the problem groups and keep an eye
on them as a whole... not that there were many problem groups in an advance
placement math class... but the theory remained the same.
Eric took the time to get all of his calculus homework out, setting it in a pile
atop his desk as he searched his backpack for calculator, pencil, and extra
paper. He took the time to organize his goods and shuffle through the
homework, very obviously busying himself to avoid eye contact or interaction with
any of the other students. He even went to the extra trouble of messing with the
lead in his mechanical pen so its length would be "just right"... and flicked the
pencil's eraser against his book to pass the time.
More students slowly filtered into the room, finding whatever seats they
desired, and collapsing into them as if the weight of the world were on their
shoulders. As the students quieted down, Mr. Oliver began taking roll. He did a
brief overview of the expectations for the homework assignments then had
everyone pass their papers forward. Class began without any hitches, and Eric
settled into the routine; it was going to be a long day.
* * * * * *
Eric began walking the usual stretch of roadway home. He was strong
enough that the three thick textbooks in his backpack were barely noticeable. By
no stretch of imagination was Eric a jock, but there were certainly some students
more out-of-shape than he. Standing not-quite six foot tall, Eric could have been
an imposing figure if not for his strict code of non-interaction. Even though he
was near 200 pounds with only a faint layer of pudge, the young man somehow
managed to avoid the air-of-intimidation that most others with his build exuded
easily.
It was five blocks between his home and the school: barely a half mile.
Sometimes, in order to change things up a little, Eric would take a different path,
preferring a long-cut to a shortcut. It wasn't so much that Eric wanted to stay in
shape as he was more than willing to waste some extra time en route. He had
the benefit of extra time on his hands and no car; both of those little facts added
up to strong legs and patience in transit.
After he passed the fourth block Eric could clearly see his house, and
noted the car in the driveway: his mother was already home. Deciding on the
spot that he wouldn't mind a greatly extended trip home, Eric took the next
corner, marching his way down towards the city park about 8 blocks away. The
walk was an easy one without any large inclines or declines in his path.
Regardless, it was a fairly hot day and he brushed some of his brown hair out of
his eyes, idly wiping away little beads of perspiration.
The walk was quiet with few people on the side street except for a small
throng of grade school kids playing alongside the road. Eric passed by them,
one group playing hopscotch while another group set up for a game of street
hockey. Moving quickly, Eric managed to get by either set of children without as
much as a glance. It wasn't very difficult with both groups fully immersed in their
games but he made it a point not to be waylaid regardless.
It was kind of silly, he told himself after crossing an intersecting street to
the next block. Since he was only wasting time on the walk it shouldn't bother
him to be stopped by the children but he was never good with kids and would
rather skip the encounter if given the choice. Only two blocks ahead of him was
the park gates and he would gladly give up the empty, concrete streets for the
secluded privacy of the southern section of the mid-city park. He looked forward
to the shaded grass at the area covered in trees which he knew were perfect for
permitting quiet contemplation and time alone.
Eric frowned as he saw the large gathering of people on the outskirts of
the park. There was some kind of gathering, probably a PTA meeting or some
activist group he told himself. Eric continued forward, skirting the little groups
that were clogging up the grass. He lowered his gaze, keeping track of the
ground in front of his feet, making a bee line for the trees towards the center of
the park but, sadly, he was not to make it there unscathed.
"Hey! Eric!" came a shout from far off to the side. He told himself that the
call wasn't that loud, and that he could probably get by without having to
acknowledge it and blame it later on the noise around him, but the owner of the
voice was too fast, and she slid through the gathering crowd like an otter through
water. Letting out a sigh, Eric turned to regard the young woman, roughly his
age with curly brown hair that bounced with each step and a glitter in her lively
blue eyes that always accompanied a happy smile.
"Hey, Kat." he responded simply, idly contemplating if it was rude to be
counting off a 5 second chance for her to start a conversation before continuing
on. He only had a little over three seconds to think about it before she got
straight to the point.
"I didn't think I'd see you here, but I guess it'd make sense and all." She
smiled.
Eric glanced around, "The park?"
Katrina let out a titter... a sound more suitable for someone half their age,
"No, silly... at the rally."
"Rally?" Eric raised an eyebrow, "What?"
Katrina, or Kat, as everyone in their school called her took a hold of his
chin and rotated his head towards the stage that had been set up, where a group
of people were preparing a podium. A large wooden scaffold was built up over
the stage, and a long piece of cloth was draped down the back with a large,
upside down, pink triangle.
"There's... huh?" Eric asked blankly, pausing before pulling her hand
away from his chin.
"It's only been on every other billboard in school. Gay and lesbian
students have been talking it up for a month." she eyed him, "That's why you're
here, isn't it?"
"I don't pay attention to th-" he did a double take, "You guess what'd
make sense?" he suddenly registered her earlier statement.
"Oh, come on, Eric, it's okay to be open here... that's what this event is-"
he cut her off.
"I'm not gay." he stated flatly, "Why are YOU here?"
"Support. Duh!" noted Kat, "It's okay for straight people to show support.
Theodore is around here somewhere too."
Eric sighed at the mention of Katrina's jock boyfriend. The two fit together
about as well as a circular peg in a square hole but Kat was smart enough and
Teddy was dumb enough that she got whatever she wanted from him... so it
worked just fine for her. Eric found the whole situation too childish to comment
on or become involved in but, for some reason, Katrina Waters always ended up
finding him and making him her business. He thought it was a skill she perfected
for school grounds-- somehow, however, it worked outside school too.
"So what do ya want?" he asked her straight out.
"Just wanted to say hello. It's always fun to see a familiar face at one of
these things. Jennifer Galner is here somewhere too with others from the
yearbook... I'm going to see if I can get in a few shots. Helps with the campaign
and all." she winked.
"Yea. Good luck with the student body prez... thing. Well... see ya." Eric
offered in parting, making his get away as the tide of the crowd allowed him a
quick departure.
Moving through the throng of people like a drowning man trying to paddle
himself to shore, Eric pushed his way towards the trees desperately seeking
succor from the contact of countless people and a crowd he was incredibly
uncomfortable around. Once inside the safety of the trees the young man moved
away from any view of the surrounding area and let out a deep breath. Eric
slumped to the ground, leaning his back against one of the many tree trunks and
rested his elbows on his knees and his face in his hands.
When he finally looked up he found his hands wet, and he slowly wiped
them dry, followed quickly by his cheeks as he his all evidence of tears. He let
out a breath and slowly ran a hand through his hair, closing his eyes and cursing
everyone in his park. Suddenly, it didn't seem like somewhere he wanted to
be... especially with everyone around and a rally going on.
Eric had known he was gay for about 2 years, ever since a few months
after his 15th birthday. It wasn't a sudden shocking epiphany or an irrational
surge of emotions at the realization; it came about slow and with strange clarity
and painful actualization. At first Eric realized that, during the years when he was
drawing away from everyone, the opposite sexes in his classes began drawing
closer. It was as if the childhood myth of cooties was coming to a close for
everyone, and Eric was all the more uncomfortable for it.
The logical and rational realization of his homosexuality continued to
haunt him through the final years of middle school and into his freshman year in
high school. It was easy enough to avoid most uncomfortable social situations;
he didn't have any friends to compare "trophy" stories with, and not having to
worry about advances from interested females made it even easier. Thankfully,
as far as he was concerned, no one was interested enough to make an advance
on him, male or female.
Life was torture for Eric in the locker room after PE, but it was just another
thing he had to live with; mixed emotions and uncomfortable thoughts washed
around within him. He did his best to mind himself, focusing all of his attention
on getting dressed or undressed, but, invariably, due to curiosity or some
voyeuristic tendency, Eric did make inconspicuous glances. The only one who
ever caught him was himself. Even though he had moments to deal with, Eric
was able to set his homosexuality aside, and did his best to live what he thought
of as a "neutral life". For the most part Eric ignored his sexual orientation; it was
part of him but it did not define him.
He rested his head back against the tree trunk, gazing out among the
trees and letting out another long sigh. Eric didn't have a problem with being
gay... no more than any other problem he had relating to people, but he certainly
didn't need the extra heartache for supplying anyone with more ammo to use
against him, especially since they already had plenty. Teenagers had a knack
for picking on the outsiders, loners, and "weird kids"... he didn't need to add in
being gay or he'd gain a whole new set of thugs interested in making his already
apathetic life more of a living hell.
Eric rubbed his nose once, and slowly got to his feet again. The sky was
darkening, and he accomplished his goal of wasting an hour before going home.
Keeping his eyes to the ground, Eric made his way deeper into the forested
section of the park, intent on making his isolation last at least a little longer.
Stepping off the commonly tread path, the young man made his way down
towards a small gully, picking his steps carefully. He kneeled now and again,
sifting through a rock here or a stone there, looking around for any little
geological wonders that called to him.
The young man dug around in the gully for a few moments, pausing to sift
through the dirt. Having found only two suitable rocks, Eric wanted at least one
more before calling it a night especially since he still had his backpack and it
would transport them well enough. He was about ready to give up before his
eyes slowly meandered over something that warranted a second glance. At first
Eric was ready to move on; the smooth surface resembling a glass bottle more
than anything else-- but he did look again.
Lodged into the dirt was an oval-shaped crystalline mass. Eric moved
quickly, glancing around once then again to make sure he was the only person
present. The young man began excavating the object, digging with hands for
most of the procedure, switching to a long stick for prying when he neared
completion. Finally, with a lurch, the crystalline lump came free. Eric ran a hand
across the flawless surface, smooth; unlike most crystals he'd seen or heard of.
It was about the size of a football, and of roughly the same shape.
Eric rearranged the goods within his backpack, and slowly slid the heavy
object into place, zipping up his pack again before glancing around one more
time to make sure no one had seen; no one had. The young man stood up and
donned his backpack. He whistled nonchalantly on his way out of the trees and
headed straight for home, making it a point to take the long way around to avoid
further thoughts on the pride gathering... not that he could think of anything but
the crystal at the moment even if he tried.
* * * * * *
For the fourth day in a row Eric made his way straight for home, neither
wasting time nor seeking distractions. For the better part of a week Eric had
been entranced with the new crystal in his collection. He kept it hidden safely
within his old toy chest, the one place in which his mother never bothered
snooping. He had wrapped the item in pillows and spare blankets to make sure it
didn't get scratched, or, more likely, scratch anything. The single piece of crystal
was beyond anything he had imagined, and he couldn't even begin to guess a
price on it... not that he was interested in selling the item.
Eric closed and locked the front door once he was inside and cleared the
stairs in record time. He went to his room at the end of the hall and closed his
bedroom door. Eric lost count on the number of times he had wished he had a
lock on his door but the wish echoed again in his mind. The young man went to
his bookshelf and pulled down a textbook about geological formulations of
crystalline masses. Most people would consider it a difficult read at best but Eric
was determined to classify the item.
The book in total was well over 400 pages and lacked an index. Even with
the table of contents, Eric had trouble figuring out where in the book to search for
information about oval-shaped crystals. The young man was forced to go
through the picture-less book page by page scanning for any words that might
describe the geological abnormality inside his toy chest. He had been managing
about 50 pages a night, only reading those that held a few words that might lead
to an answer for his questions but his search had still come up empty; he had a
mystery on his hands.
The book went right back on the shelf the moment he heard the front door
open; it was replaced on his desk by a AP microbiology book. Eric had always
done well in school; most of his junior classes were of college level and his
grades were one of the few things he took great pride in openly. His mother paid
only enough attention to see that he wasn't failing in his high school education
and left the rest up to his teachers.
He didn't blame his mother for her ignorance of his life... in fact, he was
happy to help perpetuate it. Eric did not like the woman his mother had become
after his dad left, and he knew it was no more his job to fix her than it was his
responsibility to be her crutch. As far as Eric was concerned they were two
separate people with little-to-nothing in common simply living in the same
house... for the time being. Besides, he didn't want her doting all over him every
minute she was home.
He pulled a mechanical pencil out and tapped the eraser twice to ready
the lead for note-taking and, right on cue, he heard the triple knock at his door.
As usual, his mother entered without even a precursory pause. He didn't bother
giving her 'the glare' this time since he was too distracted by what lay on the
random page in front of him. His attention wasn't divided this time; he was wholly
focused on the book.
Eric ignored whatever his mom was talking at him about and simply stared
at the pages that lay within the chapter on abnormal unicellular organism
conditions. Whatever his mother had said went in one ear and out the other; Eric
was staring at the picture of a single cellular organism undergoing a chrysalis.
He contemplated the picture a moment, and looked to the caption, going over it
once, then twice, and finally he looked at the actual words on the page,
absorbing each one well after the time his mother walked out of his room,
continuing on whatever tangent she had chosen for the night.
Once he finally finished with the chapter, Eric set the book aside and went
over to his toy box. The book had mentioned singular celled organisms growing
a thick crystalline shell as a cocoon of sorts when exposed to adverse conditions.
Supposedly some organisms were capable of existing almost indefinitely within
their confines until the surrounding environment became more suitable. Eric
unlatched the lid and began moving aside some of the pillows and blankets he
had placed atop the crystal.
He gently removed the crystal from the 'nest' of linens, feeling its heft and
slowly turning it over in his hands. The young man held it for many long
moments contemplating its purpose and the possibility of the book offering
insight into the object. Eric's only conclusion was that he would either have to
chip off some of the crystal for study or let it be and watch. Having spent the last
several days doing the latter, he decided he'd have to get a chisel... and be very
careful.
It was two hours, three chisels, and a hammer later that Eric realized that
things wouldn't be simple. He set the crystal back into the toy box and let out a
deep breath. As the young man headed down the stairs his mother called him
into the kitchen, announcing dinner was on the table. Eric took a seat and didn't
meet her gaze, staring into the meatloaf and greens on his plate instead.
"So what was all the banging about?" she inquired.
"Nothing." Eric responded, starting on his mashed potatoes.
"If I go into your room will there be holes in the walls?" his mother inquired
looking at him, hand still on her empty fork.
"No." he responded, taking in a spoonful of the over-buttered goo, "no
holes."
Her fork remained empty, "Eric... I want you to go with me to my next
session."
Eric put his fork down and looked up. He didn't respond.
"With Doctor Marlow... it's tomorrow night." she elaborated.
He took a drink of water to give himself time to think. His mind was a blur
with possible responses, retorts, counters, denials, or excuses, all being pushed
aside by the continuing nagging of the enigma that was the crystal in his toy box,
"Okay." he spoke all too quickly as he set the glass down. Eric winced inwardly
at his self betrayal. Kill me now, God... just kill me now.