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Silent Sanctuary-Chapter Three 10/19/2005 10:33:45 PM
The following is Chapter Three of my upcoming novel, SILENT SANCTUARY. The first two chapters can be found in earlier blogs. As with the first two chapters, what follows is a rough draft before editing. The entire novel should be completed within a number of days, which will be followed by pre-publication reviews. Meanwhile my first novel, REUNIONS, is still being considered for republishing at this time and is still available in its original form. Before I present Chapter Three, some of you may note that in an earlier blog I stated that the main character, Frank Somers, was in a coma for three days. I have changed this slightly to two and a half days. Everything else has remained the same. Enjoy Chapter Three............
THREE
It was Friday. Frank was much better for the moment. Kelly was seated four feet across from him as Mr. Clark passed back the tests they had taken yesterday. He wasn’t intentionally trying to look but Frank saw the big fat “D” in the upper right-hand corner of her test as she got it from Mr. Clark. A subtle smile formed on his face. It served her right. Of course he would have felt bad for her if she hadn’t turned out to be as cold-hearted and stuck up as every other girl. Next it was Rick’s turn. He broke into a big grin, clenched his fist, and spoke softly but excitedly to nobody in particular.
“All right!”
After Frank had put his desk back where it was supposed to be when Kelly made her snide remark the other day, he had felt miserable, but nevertheless spent the rest of science hour helping Rick with atomic symbols and inert gases. Up to this point in time Rick hadn’t been doing so well in science, but now his latest grade would put him into the “C” range overall. The first report cards were six weeks away, but this was a good start at getting things turned around. His parents would not be happy if he brought home a report card with any “D’s” or “F’s.” He would have to get to know Frank better. He turned around and looked at Frank, pointing to the “B+” on his paper. Frank got an “A,” but that really didn’t matter to Rick as he said to him, “Thanks, man.”
Frank replied, “No problem.”
He quickly wished that Rick had been some grateful girl in the class who may have hugged him or at least placed a soft hand upon his in a gesture of appreciation. Then he thought maybe he and Rick could become friends. He was better-looking than Frank, which wasn’t saying much. He was a couple of inches taller and sported dark, brown, wavy, hair cut in a retro 1970’s style that worked
with teenagers and those in their early twenties but looked ridiculous on people his parents’ age, who had ironically started the trend some thirty to forty years earlier. At the insistence of his mother Frank’s father had finally cut his hair a few years back, shortly after he had turned forty. She was very pleased, believing that he actually looked younger at forty than he did at thirty-five. Frank himself never liked long hair and had no desire to let it grow.
But Frank was not Rick. He didn’t know him very well and had never seen him with a girl. He reasoned that Rick must have a girlfriend somewhere, because everybody did except Frank. Perhaps they could exchange favors that would mutually benefit their needs. Frank could tutor Rick in science, and maybe in return Rick could give Frank advice on how to get a girl to become interested in him. There were two periods to go before school let out for the weekend. Frank would look for Rick at the end of the day because he wasn’t in either of his two remaining classes. If he missed the bus it wouldn’t be that big of a deal. His house was less than two miles away and the bus made 3 stops before getting to Frank’s neighborhood. It would be just as fast to walk. He just hoped that he wouldn’t somehow meet up with Luis Sanchez.
The two remaining classes dragged as anything does on a Friday or any day before a person is about to be rewarded with some time away from the normal, daily routine. In Frank’s case it was school, but for countless others it was work or simply a dull existence at home for those who longed to travel to a new, exiting destination, if only for a short period of time.
It was finally 3:30. The bell rang, announcing the beginning of the weekend. Frank would not have much time to look for Rick. Everybody who rode home went to their corresponding bus and would be on board within ten minutes. The walkers just started walking, and a remaining few would be waiting for a ride from mom or dad. As Frank exited the doorway, he started to look through the crowd. Out of the corner of his left eye he spotted Rory Thompson, the kid who sat behind him in Social Studies who had thumped him on the back of the head Wednesday. Accompanying him was an entourage of four or five girls. All of them pretty, of course. Damn, it must be nice, Frank thought. He would never be a football player or any other kind of athlete, for that matter. He had neither the physique nor the talent. Rory Thompson. The name even sounded perfect for a star athlete. He would undoubtedly get a scholarship from O.U. someday and be playing for the Sooners. Then afterwards, if he remained healthy and injury free, he would probably go on to the NFL. Ten years from now, if they weren’t retired, John Madden and Al Michaels would be praising his performance on Monday Night Football. And if it wasn’t John Madden or Al Michaels, it would be somebody else.
Frank wasn’t as scared of Rory as he was of Luis Sanchez. Rory wasn’t out to intentionally make trouble. He was simply showing off to the girls in Social Studies that day, and Frank had unfortunately been placed in the role of the scapegoat. If any other guy had been sitting in front of Rory and hesitated in answering the teacher’s question, the same thing would have happened. The difference between Rory and Luis Sanchez was that Rory was probably not a bad person. He was simply enjoying his relatively newfound celebrity with a bit of arrogance thrown in. Luis, on the other hand, was a despicable individual. Terrifying, evil to the innermost core with no compassion or regard for those around him, he was destined either to succumb to the violence that was such an integral lifestyle choice at an early age, or to end up in prison for the majority of his life. Rory was an egotistical jock who would grow up one day, even if that day would not come for twenty more years. Conversely, if the opportunity had presented itself, Luis
would have shown no remorse for feeding pellets of Zyclon B into the showers at Auschwitz.
Frank turned his head away from Rory and the girls that followed him, clinging to his every word. If he was going to have any luck in locating Rick, he would have to be quick. The school population was certainly not big, but still, a few hundred students were enrolled. In a few seconds Frank spotted him. Rick wasn’t getting onto a bus. He was sitting on the curb by the street, apparently waiting for a ride. He walked over to where he was sitting.
“Hi, Rick.”
“Oh, hey, Frank. How’s it going?”
“I’m just looking forward to the weekend. I’m not used to the whole school thing yet. It was nice to sleep to nine o’clock all summer. Getting up at six-thirty sucks.”
“Yeah, I hear you. It bites the big one.”
“The only class I like is science.”
“I like it better now, and by the way, thanks again for helping me out.”
“I really didn’t do much.”
“Well, that memory trick you taught me worked, and I got enough of the elements right to get a B plus. That’ll raise my grade. I’m gonna try that on all the tests we have for the rest of the semester.”
Frank had casually mentioned using mnemonics to remember the order of the Periodic Table of Elements. The first twenty of them, for example, could be remembered by a nonsense sentence that Frank had made up: Hiya, Lisa, be number 3 naughty but not 8 or 10 in my MG, not my K-car. It was a rather bizarre twist of the old standby that everyone used in music to remember the notes in Treble Clef. The lines, from bottom to top, were every good boy does fine, which were E, G, B, D, and F, and the spaces
were F, A, C, and E, spelling “face.”
Frank had been the only person Rick had ever heard of that could use this technique to remember anything that required memorization. Frank spoke again. He had nothing to lose, since Kelly had already made it clear to him that she wasn’t interested in him.
“Yep, I like science, but you know that girl Kelly who sits across from me?”
“Yeah.”
“She acted like she was interested in me, you know; she was laughing and smiling at me when her friend was telling her something about her little brother ripping a fart at some restaurant. She really seemed like she wanted me to be included in the conversation, and I’m thinking, cool. I’m thinking, finally, a great-looking girl is giving me the sign that she likes me. So I gradually scoot my desk closer to her, just a little bit at a time so Mr. Clark doesn’t notice, and then out of the blue, she says, Are you moving closer to me? Get away before I vomit!
“Man, that sucks,” answered Rick. He added,
“I’ve seen that before.”
“You have?” Frank asked, rather surprised.
“Oh, yeah. Some chicks are just really weird like that. They like to play with your head, you know?”
Frank had never considered that. It was downright cruel. Being the victim of someone like that was nothing new to him, and Kelly had apparently shown him yet another way to crush his already low self-esteem.
It was now obvious to Rick that Frank had really been attracted to this person, and despite his awesome ability to remember facts that were shoved down peoples’ throats almost daily during the school year, he felt sorry for him. All the book knowledge the world had to offer was precious little compensation if one had to stumble through
life on the receiving end of insensitive and hurtful remarks brought on by those too ignorant to see the pain that they inflicted, both physically and figuratively.
At the age of not quite fourteen, Frank could not distinguish Kelly’s brand of evil to that of Luis Sanchez. He was unaware that, as people get older and wiser, most of them become educated in the ways of proper etiquette without regard to one’s shortcomings. He asked Rick a question.
“How the hell can you tell the difference between a girl who’s sincere and one who isn’t?”
“You can’t. You did the right thing. I would have done the same thing in your shoes. To be honest, though, I didn’t notice because I was too busy studying for that test.”
“Do you have a girlfriend?”
“Yeah, sort of, but she doesn’t go to school here. She lives in Enid. My dad went to college with her dad, and we visit each other about once every two months. We send E-mails back and forth.”
“What’s her name?”
“Lori. She’s in seventh grade.”
I should have known he’d have a girlfriend. Everybody does except me.
“Must be nice.”
“It is, but I don’t know if it’ll last, since I can’t drive for another two years. I might meet somebody here and she might meet somebody there. It’s almost like we’re a couple of movie stars who work across the country from each other, you know what I mean? And they usually end up getting divorced.”
Frank was getting ready to reply when a white Volkswagen Jetta pulled up alongside the curb about twenty feet behind them. It was Rick’s mother. He grabbed his backpack and got up.
“I gotta go. That’s my ride. I’ll see you Monday.”
“Okay, have a good one.”
“Later.”
Rick got into the passenger seat, and they took off. Frank watched as the Jetta became smaller and smaller until it disappeared. Now it was time to walk home and pray that Luis Sanchez wasn’t lurking around some corner. He would have to take his chances. The buses had left ten minutes before. He would have a lot to think about as he walked the mile and a half.
It was hot and muggy outside. He considered removing his socks but then decided against it when he realized what his feet would smell like after sweating inside tennis shoes by the time he got home. He began to walk.
He began thinking about what Rick had said as he cautiously scanned the area for any signs of Luis. In the distance he could see old pumps from wells situated on plots of land that had once thrived with hundreds of thousands of barrels of crude oil beneath its surface but were now dry and would remain so until the whole process repeated itself in a few million years. Frank was trying to find the answer to why anyone would act like they were interested in someone, only to toss him aside at the first sign of a response. It simply didn’t make any sense. Could it be that she actually was interested but got cold feet when he advanced toward her? He would not bother to ask her. As far as Frank was concerned; if she was interested in him, it was up to her to not only make the next move, but to apologize. He did not expect anything to happen. They would instead go about the business of their respective lives, having missed the opportunity to become acquainted. This happened everywhere, every day, every year. He was now in visual range of his house. Luis Sanchez had not
crossed his path. The weekend was underway. Any time away from school was a blessing.
