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Silent Sanctuary, Chapter Two 9/26/2005 10:00:48 AM
The following is a rough draft for chapter 2 of my upcoming novel, SILENT SANCTUARY. Any contructive feedback is welcome. The book is approximately 80% finished. I will submit it to either a small trad publisher or use my previous publisher for REUNIONS, my first work. This will depend on two factors; A)the number of online sales I get for REUNIONS by the end of 2005,(it appears to slowly but surely gaining awareness) and, B) if accepted, the terms of the trad publisher. Frank sat dejected and alone on the bus that would take him to the entrance of the neighborhood where he lived, oblivious to the noises of the passengers around him. He almost missed his stop. If he hadn’t glanced out the window for a fleeting moment, he would have. As he walked home his depression began to subside. It would be hard to go to science class tomorrow and face Kelly, but this wasn’t by any means the first time something like this had ever happened, and there were lots of girls out there, perhaps some that were in the same lonely, quarantined shell of existence as Frank. Although he didn’t want to settle for someone who was hideously ugly, not by choice, but by the mysterious workings of genetics; or someone so morbidly obese that only a chair or just about any other piece of furniture constructed of the highest quality of cast iron would be sufficient to support her added weight, he seriously began to wonder if these scenarios would become his only option. The closest facsimile to a girlfriend in his short life thus far had been his cousin Michelle, who lived in Moline, Illinois. She was the oldest daughter of one of his mother’s sisters and about a year older than Frank. From around the time he was six, the two families had gotten together twice yearly; once in August and then again at Christmas. He had been to his aunt and uncle’s place a couple of times before that early age, as a toddler, but the regular schedule of visits, sometimes in Illinois and sometimes in Oklahoma, didn’t begin until 1997. The only exception had been in the summer of 1999 when Frank’s mother had to have emergency surgery after her appendix decided to unexpectedly burst.
During the time when the regularly scheduled visits began, Frank and Michelle decided they would “like” each other, as all kids will do. It was innocent enough. They were only six and seven years old, respectively, and even though the two of them were related by blood it would be years until either of them
would acquire an understanding of just what this meant. They were as far removed from the concept of redneck inbreeding as a warm, sandy, sun-soaked beach in the Caribbean was from a bitterly cold, windy, January night in the plains of North Dakota. And so their relationship was based on this illusion of fantasy for about six or seven years until early adolescence made its arrival. All of the five children from both families; Frank, Michelle, Frank’s younger brother Jimmy, and his other cousins, who were also younger; Pam and Sharon, would sometimes sleep in one bedroom in various combinations. Two or three would share a queen-sized bed while the others were scattered in sleeping bags on the floor. Other times they would be split into two different bedrooms, but Frank and Michelle had always shared the same bed, whether it was a real one with a mattress and box springs or merely a cotton sleeping bag. Often Michelle would fall asleep with her head cradled on Frank’s shoulder. They played together constantly and always made sure that they rode together when the families decided to take a trip somewhere. Whenever at last the time came for the family that had done the traveling to return home, Frank would fight back tears, for he knew that he wouldn’t see Michelle again for months. This was especially hard on him following Christmas, because the passage of time before he would see her again was twice as long as it was when they went their separate ways in August. They passed this time apart by E-mailing each other at least once a week.
Michelle was very pretty. At an age when most boys and girls still thought of the other as being “gross,” Frank was very attracted to her; cousin or not. At the tender age of eight, a full five years before the desires of puberty would forever displace the innocence of childhood, he was already aware of her shapely legs. He envisioned himself as a brave knight destined
to save her, the princess, from all despair. She had told Frank
about another cousin on her father’s side named Duane, and judging from her stories, she was close to him, too. This made Frank somewhat jealous, and although he had never met this fellow named Duane, he was instantly slated to be the villain in the imaginary and fanciful workings of his mind. This period in Frank’s life came to an end about a year ago, a couple of months before he turned thirteen. Both his mother and her sister concurred that Frank and Michelle were now too old to share the same bed. Last Christmas, Michelle had broken the bond they shared even further by proclaiming to Frank that cousins who “liked’ each other were queer. Although this remark stung, he could see that she was right. In earlier times, people sometimes married cousins and in a few cases; even siblings. With the exception of those who came from the Jerry Lee Lewis school of thought this practice had been unacceptable for several decades. One thing he had learned in a science book that he checked out of the public library was that the offspring of such couplings were often deformed; either physically, mentally, or both. This little tidbit of information had become the foundation of many inbreeding jokes. Just the same, though, Frank was under the assumption that they would still remain close and be lifelong friends. However, last month, when it was his family’s turn to go up to Illinois, she had become as distant and cold-hearted as his classmates in school. He had made a suggestion that she introduce some of her girlfriends to him. She didn’t have the fortitude to give her reply directly to Frank. Instead, her younger sister Pam had to tell him that Michelle said that her friends were far too mature to have any interest in him. It was the end of an era and more sadly, a senseless and tragic end to what could have been a lifetime of loving family camaraderie.
The E-mails stopped, and as soon as they were out on their own in a few years they would never be in contact again.
Frank opened the door to his house. The air conditioning provided immediate relief from the humid air outside. His mother was in the living room, watching Oprah on TV. The house was modest, having been built during the early 1960’s, but no others in the area were any better or worse. The neighborhood was simply beginning to show its age. Whether or not a house was brand new or beginning its second century, it was customary for most people to update the furniture that they owned. Frank’s father saw no reason to do this as long as it was functional and still in good shape. After all, many old people, especially women, could still be seen wearing clothes that were thirty years out of date. While it was amusing to see eighty-year-old women walking down the street in colorful plaid or striped bell-bottom slacks, it was an embarrassment to Frank for guests to come into their home and have to sit on a couch that was purchased when the Dick Van Dyke Show was in prime time.
His mother heard him open the door. She knew it was Frank, because he got out of school about a half hour before Jimmy.
“Hi, Frank,” she said.
“Hi,” he answered in an unenthusiastic tone.
In addition to an instinct that all mothers seemed to possess, she had known Frank for almost fourteen years. She immediately sensed that something was wrong. She had been a teenager once herself and guessed that something unpleasant had happened at Garner Middle School. Still, she would ask.
“Is something wrong? Did you have a bad day?”
At an age when the desires of independence more often than not were displayed with blatant acts of disrespect for authority on any level, Frank got along quite well with his parents; especially his mother, and for this reason he could tell her anything.
“Let’s put it this way. I’ve had better days.”
“I take it that things didn’t go well with that girl in your science class.”
He had excitedly told her of Kelly just yesterday. His mother had told him to just be himself, because if he had to put on an act as if he were someone that he wasn’t, she would not be worth his time, anyway. Frank was recalling her words of wisdom, and felt better.
“Well, she was laughing at something another girl was telling her, and both of them were looking at me, too, so I thought they were talking to me. I scooted my desk a little closer to her. Then she said something like she would puke if I got any closer.”
He was looking into his mother’s eyes while subtly glancing at the outdated oil paintings adorning the wall that his father had found at a bargain sale from a motel that was going out of business. For an instant he was focused on the poorly painted picture of a ship at sea. It was the way his mind worked, but this oil painting of a ship at sea would be associated with this day until another girl would inevitably spark his interest. Suddenly, his mother broke his concentration.
“She doesn’t sound like a nice girl at all to say something so rude. You’ll meet somebody who’s nice some day. You may not think you will, but it’ll happen. Trust me.”
She gently placed a reassuring arm around him.
“It would be nice if it happened sometime before I’m your age.”
She smiled and said, “Don’t rush it.”
Despite his day, Frank still possessed the enormous appetite of many individuals that were in their teen years, and made his way into the kitchen. He found a pepperoni pizza pocket, two Pop Tarts, and a bottle of Dr. Pepper. In the time it would take to nuke the pizza pocket, the afternoon rerun of ER would be starting. This would help him to forget about today’s course of
events. But it would be nice to look like George Clooney, he
silently thought to himself. There would be time to go over tomorrow’s science test later. Not that he really needed to study. Some things simply came easy for him. Unfortunately, finding a girlfriend wasn’t one of them.
