Author: Servo Blue
AUTHOR'S NOTE: ============= Let me tell you, this is, in fact, the first "long chapter". However, being the subject that it is, it was going to be long any way you looked at it. At the very least, it felt long to write. Also, I personally didn't like writing it, because it shows more work than I like, but things are what they need to be. Hope you enjoy it. Also, I apologize for the wait in its arrival, as compared to the swiftness its predecessors have arrive in. You see, I've been curled up in the fetal position on the bathroom floor for several days, keeping myself cold so as to avoid throwing up; a technique I discovered a few years back that does the trick better than any other medicine, although I did take my half-hourly chug from the Pepto-Bismal bottle as well. With my stomache convalsing, and my severe phobia of reverse parafluxiating, I was shaken for quite some time. But, as things are back in the Blue, so the story should now resume its former pace. See ya 'round!
--Servo Blue
DISCLAIMER: ==========
Mine. Read.
The Out-Crowd ===========
Part 11: The 2nd Move
For a moment, Jeremy and I just stood there. We didn't quite know what to do or say.
"Food?" asked Jer.
"I swear, you're as articulate as my father," I said, rolling my eyes. "Yeah, I'm starving. What time is it?"
"One-thirty," he answered, checking his watch. "Armeni's has great burgers," he said with a crooked smile and a wink.
"Say no more, guv-nuh!" I said in my best 'Eric Idle', and nudged him in the arm. We started walking down the sidewalk toward the restaurant of our choice.
"You really like that place, huh?" I asked.
"I got no beef with it."
"Then why get a burger?"
"Aww, dude!" he moaned, and hit me in the arm as I laughed.
After a few minutes, we'd made our way to Armeni's and had our lunch. There was something strangely familiar about our waiter, but I couldn't quite put my finger on it. He avoided eye-contact completely the whole time we were there.
We finished our meal, during which we talked about everything imaginable except for both subjects of Shelby and "Us". After we paid the bill, we walked to the midpoint between our houses and said goodbye. He had this weird, glazy look in his eyes and that silly crooked smile was back. I thought for a second that he might've taken something mind-altering when I wasn't looking, but then I remembered I'd had my eyes on him the whole time, and he was just being his goofball Jeremy self.
I walked home, finally allowing myself some time to reflect on how Shelby acted. I couldn't come up with any good notions, though. I figured I'd call Wally when I got in. He seemed to be the sage of the group, anyway. I looked up and saw that I was at my house. I guess I was really deep in my thinking. I lifted my head toward the sky. A breeze was coming in and cooling things down, and off in the west there was a gray line above the horizon. I jogged up the walkway and paused at my front door to take one last look at the impending weather.
Shhheeeeeek--Buh-BAM BAM BAM rumble rum-RUMble rumble.
I sat up straight in my bed, instantly wide awake. I was breathing heavy, and I could hear Shelby was, too.
"You O.K.?" I asked the darkness.
"Yeah," it answered. "Scared the schist outta me."
"Me, too. That must've been right outside."
I stood up out of bed with the intention of crossing the room to the light switch, but took two steps and tripped on one of my shoes. A second later, the floor had the audacity to punch me in the face.
"Kmm, you O.K., boss?" asked the darkness, stifling a laugh.
"10-4, good buddy," I answered and stood up, walking much slower this time. I made it to the doorway without any more accidents, and felt along the walk for the switch panel. I flipped the switch.
"Well?"
"Damn."
"Cool, no power. Think the school's down, too?"
"Maybe. 'Course, that means that everything else in town is probably black, too."
"Touche, boss."
"Wanna try to go back to sleep?"
"I'm game."
Flash!
Buh-BAM bam bam rrrumblllle....
"Well, it's a thought."
"I usually can't sleep through storms anyway," said the darkness, in a quiet voice. "It's hard to hear anybody comin' in a storm."
I made my way back to my bed and sat down. We sat there for a few minutes in the dark, totally silent, save for the rain battering the roof and our window.
My eyes adjusted to the darkness of the room, and I could see Shelby sitting up on the sofa. I got up and crossed the room, and opened up the box that looked like a suitcase.
"What're you doin', boss?"
"You'll see."
"I can't see anything 'cept a black sihlouette."
"Har har," I said, and sat back on my bed, my accordian supported on my shoulders.
"Is that what I think it is?"
"Could be," I said, then changed the topic. "You know, back in Xenia, I had a bunch of friends. A couple of us even started a band. I never thought I was all that good, but I guess anybody who can actually play an accordian is already pretty good. Anyway, Wheeljack wrote this cool song one night--"
"'Wheeljack'"?
"Yeah," I said, and smiled at my ignorance. "His name is Jack--he's the band's headwriter, and his car is constantly falling apart. He got his name the day he got three flat tires on one trip."
"What?!"
"Yeah, Jack had lotsa weird car trouble...but that's another story. His girlfriend left him one night, and he wrote this song for himself, then decided that everybody could hear it."
"What's it about?"
"Well, it was one of those 'I'm breaking up with you because of reasons I can't explain', 'it's not you, it's me' kinda things. Needless to say, he was pissed about being dumped for no real reason, and he wrote this while he was venting. But I think you'll like it. It's called I Was Cheatin' On You."
I started playing what I consider a groovy tune, loud enough that we could hear it well, but soft enough that nobody else could. At the appropriate point, I started the lyrics:
"You look real sad, you say 'let's talk', you say 'sit down', now I've been shocked," 'Cause all you say is we are through, But it's not me, you say it's you, Well that's O.K., that makes it fine, I'm sure your heart's as broke as mine, Well yes, I'm mad, and I've the right, 'Cause you broke up with me for no reason tonight. Well, it's my house, so I will stay, But you just go, your merry way, Oh, I'll just sit, but I won'y cry, Just sit and think and wonder why, Don't ask me why, just understand, I wish there was, another man, Go on, get out, just go away, But before you go, there's something I must say:
Before you go, I'll let you know That I was cheatin' on you, She was wittier and prettier And popular, too, Oh, you're leavin' for no reason, Well, I got somebody new, Quit your cryiin', get to flyin', I was cheatin' on you!
You say "calm down", and I just laugh, 'Cause you just cut, my heart in half, You ask to stay, and talk it out, Now what the heck is this about? And don't you dare, to start to cry, Don't let that tear, drop leave your eye, You made this mess, look what you did, And now you're crying like some whiney little kid. Well that's enough, just shut your mouth, Go pack your things and then get out, I never want to see your face, Not anytime, not anyplace, There could've been another guy, But you just thought our love should die, You've got me lost; who's leaving who? Oh yeah, that's right, I guess the blame goes all to you.
Before you go, I'll let you know That I was cheatin' on you, She was wittier and prettier And popular, too, Oh, you're leavin' for no reason, Well, I got somebody new, Quit your cryiin', get to flyin', I was cheatin' on you!
I always tried to make you feel, That all my love for you was real, But now it seems you don't concur, Why not just stab my jugular? I really need some closure here, Why did you break us up my dear? And if you still have no excuse, Make up something like hallucinogens abuse, Now listen close, I'm serious, Have you just gone delerious? 'Cause if you're not, then all this pain, Was caused by problems in your brain, Now fill with guilt; absorb regret, If you can't tell, I'm quite upset, It's 'just because', but I'm alone, So, here, I'll just make up a reason of my own:
Before you go, I'll let you know That I was cheatin' on you, She was wittier and prettier And popular, too, Oh, you're leavin' for no reason, Well, I got somebody new, Quit your cryiin', get to flyin', I was cheatin' on you!
Quit your cryiiiiin'... Get to flyyyy-iiiiin... I was chea-EE-ee-ee-EAtin' onnn... Yoo-hoooooo!"
Appearantly, Wheeljack knows how to write a funny song, because Shelby was having a difficult time keeping it down when it got to the "shut your mouth" part. He was still laughing when the song was over. Maybe it was because we were so tired.
"What kinda crazy friends do you have, boss?" he asked, after he'd calmed down a bit.
"Oh, they're all nuts. Wheeljack, Stylo, Techtor--"
"'Techtor'?" he asked in disbelief. "What kinda name is 'Techtor'?"
"Oh, he was a play freak--in school, but community theater, too. He was the local superperfectionist. Not only did he have to be IN plays, he had to be on the tech crew to make sure all the lighting and sound was right. It got to the point where he was damn near obsessed, so we figured, he's an actor, he's a techie--Techtor."
"Wild."
"There's more."
"Oh, do tell."
"Let's see, Wheeljack was our writer and our rhythm guitar, Stylo was our drummer, Rhythm was our DJ and that confused everybody, because they thought that HE should play the rhythm guitar, Johnny Treble was our lead, Ramrod is our bass man, and Steve-O and Trapezoid split the keyboard and percussion parts with me."
"Wow."
"Yeah, tell me about. I'm gonna miss them."
"Hey, don't worry, boss. I'm sure they'll come out for a visit. At least for the summer--and if not, then we'll go there."
"You mean that?" I asked, looking at him as well as I could. "You'd go to Ohio with me to see the ol' gang?"
"Well, no, not if you're gonna call 'em the ol' gang."
"Oh, shut up."
"Yes," he said, with a smile in his voice. "I'll go with you, boss. We can even bring your boyfriend."
"Speaking of which," I said, having finally found an opening to the topic, "Why do you call Jeremy that?"
"What?" asked Shelby, kind of surprised.
"My boyfriend." I said, flatly.
"Are you saying he isn't?"
O.K., that startled me.
"What?!"
"What do you mean, 'what'?"
"No, no, no; no interogative reversals, pal. I asked you first."
"No, you never asked me that. Ere go, it's not a reversal."
"'Ere go'? And I did SO ask you 'what' first."
"It's Latin, and whereas you asked me 'what', I said 'what do you mean, 'what', not just 'what' back. 'What' from me would've been a reversal, but 'what do you mean, 'what'' isn't. 'What do you mean, 'what'' was a whole new line of questioning, and deserves to be recognized as such. Like bears."
"What?!"
"Hey--did you just reverse your own 'what'?"
"Stop it! What do you mean, 'bears'?!"
"No, no, I asked you first."
"No, you asked me 'what'! I asked 'What do you mean, 'bears'?"."
"No, I didn't--but, exactly."
"O.K., you just brainfucked me."
"Here's the drop; I'm just going to make one point, but I now have two ways to make it. First, the way you just showed me: 'Bears' is like 'What'. You said 'What' and I said 'What do you mean, 'what'', which is just as different as when I said 'What' and you said 'What do you mean, 'bears'. Follow?"
"Yeah...well, no. Not entirely."
"I figured as much. O.K., version of my point number two: Bears come in all different kinds, like questions. Right?"
"Uh--"
"So if bears are bears, but different, then a question can be either grizzly or brown. In this case, you were afraid I'd switched polarities. In reality, however, you were wrong. Clear?"
"Opaque as an Irishman."
"Clever."
"By the way, kudos for avoiding my question completely."
"Thanks, boss." he said with a smile.
"Wanna really answer me now?"
"You answer me, I asked you first."
"OOooooh..." I whined, and laid face down on my bed.
"Get up!" he yelled, and with that, he yanked all the sheets off of my bed and jolted me from an extremely peaceful sleep. I gasped in pain when I opened my eyes and the sunlight coming through the window stung my retinas.
"What the hell?" I asked, not even conscious yet.
"The cops are here, boss."
"What the hell, Shelby. Why do you say such things? Gimme my sheets."
"Seriously, boss, let's move it. You're comin' with us."
At this point I sat up and looked at him. He was all dressed and looking at me with this weird mixture of nervous hope and intense fear.
"O.K., I'm getting up, but what am I getting up for?"
I sat up and got out of bed. I walked over to my dresser and grabbed a pair of socks.
"There's a couple cops downstairs and they're waitin' to take us over to my-- my uncle's place."
I got my socks on and went rummaging for a pair of jeans.
"I thought that was Monday, man," I mumbled, still half asleep.
"Yeah, well, the sooner the better, eh, boss?"
"O.K., so you're movin' in here...but is that even legal?"
I found my pair of bright red jeans and got one foot in.
"That's just it, boss. There's a little thing that your folks and I kinda neglected to tell you..."
"And that is...?" I asked, as I lifted my other leg to finish puuting my jeans on.
"I'm gonna be your brother."
I looked up so fast that I lost my balance, fell, and slammed my tricep into the corner of my dresser.
"Dude!" yelled Shelby, "You O.K.?"
"Gaaah, yeah, I'm fine." I stood up and fixed my jeans. "My, WHAT?!"
"You heard me." he said.
"Wha...H-how do you neGLECT to tell me that? How did THEY neglect to tell me that?!"
"Uh...are you mad?"
"A little!" I snapped.
"Why?"
"Because nobody said anything! Nobody asked me what I thought!"
"Wait--this is about you? I musta missed that." he said in a calm voice, though his face was getting pissed.
"You know what I mean," I said.
"No, I know you're making a bigger jerk of yourself by the second. I thouhgt you'd be happy for me, and maybe yourself, since I'm getting a better life on your account, and I thought you'd come help me get my stuff. If you'd rather I didn't live here, I'll go on my own. I just thought I'd ask you, first."
I took a moment after he said that to clear my head. I stepped forward and hugged him.
"I'm sorry," I said. "I don't know why I took it like that."
"Hey, it's O.K.," he said, returning my embrace. "I'm just glad we didn't end up like we did yesterday."
"Me too."
"I mean, do you know what it's like having to apologize to somebody like you?"
"Scum!" I cried and let go of him to slug him in the shoulder.
"Ow," he laughed, "Get a shirt on, boss, we got junk to collect."
I threw a shirt on--bright yellow T with purple stripes--and clammered down the stairs after him. There were, in fact, two men dressed in the dark blue police uniforms, standing in our living room.
"Good morning," said the taller of the two. He had really short light brown hair, and a realy nice smile. He didn't seem like an authority figure at all. "I'm Officer Bradly."
"Hi. I'm Casey."
"This is Officer Morrison," he said, motioning to the guy behind him.
"Howdy," I said.
"Yup."
"Well, gentlemen," said Bradly, to Shelby and I, "here's what's going to happen: Officer Morrison and I have a warrant with us. Now before you ask, we're not going to arrest anybody. I'd love to nail this guy, but that's not what we're here for. We're pretty much your escorts--chaperones, sort of. We'll be there to make sure everything goes O.K., and nobody gets hurt. Any questions?"
He looked at Shelby and I alternately, and then we looked at each other.
"Good. You guys can take as long as you like. Just make sure you get everything. Now let's roll."
The cops--and I know that makes them sound like an army instead of just two guys--followed us for ten minutes to Dave's house. It was a dark green house, almost as big as mine. The porch, however, was about three times as big.
We exitted the cars and stepped into the driveway beside the front lawn. The grass--well, no, not the grass. Everything in town was soaking wet and shiney from last night's storm. The sky had that aftereffect from the heavy clouds that made it look deeper than usual, and darker around the horizon. There was even that cool moisture in the air, and the smell of fabric softener. You know--like Spring Rain Downy.
A large, burly man stepped out onto the porch as we approached the front door.
"Well, lookit 'e 'ave 'ere," he said, in a slurry voice. He had an auburn, translucent bottle in his hand, and didn't look very well. "Where you been, punk?"
"What do you care?" asked Shelby.
"You disrepeckful li-uhl--" started the drunk, but Bradly stepped up.
"Excuse me, sir," he said, with an anger hidden in his voice. "These boys need to get a few things and we'll all be on our way."
"Things? He ain't got no things."
"Sir, we have a warrant to enter your home. These b--"
"The hell you say."
"Look, buddy," said Bradly, but Dave swung at him before he could finish. It was a terrible swing, and the force of his own momentum threw his staggering body to the porch floor. "Alrighty, pal, you just got yourself arrested."
Bradly sat on his back and placed the cuffs on his wrists.
"What fffor?" spit Dave.
"Assaulting an officer and...hey, you want to be arrested?"
"Fuck no, you wasshole!"
"Resisting arrest."
"Get the fuck off me!" yelled the fallen ogre.
"Go in with the kids, I'll take care of this mess," Bradly said to Morrison.
"Good plan," said Morrison, then kind of showed us inside. "Come on, guys."
We walked into a living room, dark and rather unkempt.
"I'm glad I'm gettin' outta here," said Shelby.
"Understandable," said Morrison. "Your stuff upstairs?"
"Yeah," said Shelby, and he started up the rickety, creaking steps, but Morrison put a hand on his shoulder.
"Let me go first, just in case we have any more 'obstacles' on the way," he said, and got in front of Shelby.
Outside, the muffled sounds of drunken obscenities and the slam of a car door could be heard. We made it to Shelby's room; the only clean room in the house. We heard the front door open and close.
"Where are ya?!" called Bradly, through the house.
"We're upstairs, Kolchak," Morrison yelled down.
Bradly made his way upstairs, and then to the room.
"This is gonna be hard," said Shelby, in a dry tone.
"Don't worry, kid," said Morrison. "You got four extra arms to help carry stuff."
Shelby looked up at him and they shared a smile. He then looked over to Bradly, who also seemed happy to help.
"O.K.," said Shelby, looking back into his room and rubbing his palms together. "Let's dig in."
He walked across the green carpetted floor and opened the second drawer on a dresser.
"Ahhhh. Real clothes," he said, then spun around and tossed me his car keys. "Hey, Lack-of-Fashion Model," he said as I caught the jagged projectiles. "Take my clothes down and put 'em on the floor of the back seat."
"Whatever you say, Punk Masta," I said, and walked into the room. "You want me to take them down in the drawers, or just drop them on your icky floor?"
"Drawers, boss. Drawers," he said, and started taking the sheets off of the bed and folding them.
"What's in here?" asked Morrison. Shelby turned and saw him holding the padlock on a sliding closet door.
"Don't touch that!" Shelby said loudly, but more freaked than angry. Morrison jumped a bit, startled.
"What is it?" he asked.
"That's where the scarey things are," said Shelby, and he went back to stripping the bed. "Oh, schist," he said, when he'd finished.
"What?" asked Bradly.
"Nothin'. You guys wanna help with somethin'?" asked Shelby.
"Sure," answered Bradly, standing up straight.
"Sweet. There's a few boxes under my bed. Some of them are kinda heavy. You guys wanna take 'em down and put 'em in my trunk?"
"No problem, kid," said Morrison.
"Sweet. I gotta go make a phone call," said Shelby, and he clammered down the stairs. I was coming up from taking the first drawer down, and he almost knocked us both down, because he didn't see me coming.
"Hey, boss," he said, after nearly killing me, "I'm gonna call Wally and see if he can bring his uncle's truck over."
"What for?" I asked.
"To take the big stuff." he said.
"You're takin' big stuff?"
"Yeah, your mom gave me a list of stuff I could bring. I'll be gettin the empty room next to yours."
"Well, I figured you would."
"Then why didn't you think I'd bring the big stuff?"
"I dunno. Wasn't thinkin', probably."
"Oh. I gotcha."
"I'm gonna finish your clothes," I said and started past him.
"Alrighty," he said, heading back down. "See ya in a minute."
I walked into Shelby's room and nearly got run down by a giant box. I gave out a yelp when I saw it come walking out of the doorway.
"Oh, is that you, Prism?" asked the man behind the box.
I looked at myself; red jeans, yellow and purple shirt.
"Yeah, it's me."
"Cool. You have any idea what's in these boxes?"
"Not a clue." I said, as I walked against the wall to pass him. "You gonna be O.K. on the stairs with that thing?"
"Oh, definitly," he said in a reassuring voice.
I got the top drawer from the dresser and turned to walk downstairs with it. Bradly was pulling a smaller box out from under the bed. "Shelby is one mysterious kid," he said.
"I wouldn't call him mysterious," I said, making my way to the door. "More like...intriging."
I got downstairs and heard a vehicle pull up and park outside. I walked out onto the porch and down to the Ltd, passing Morrison on his way back in. I opened the door and put the drawer on the floor as well as I could.
Wally hopped out of a red pick up truck and walked toward me.
"Moving day?"
"Yup," I said, closing the door and leaning against it.
"Who's in the car?" he asked, nodding toward the squad car behind the Ltd.
"That's 'Uncle Dave'. He tried to punch one of the cops, but he's all wasted."
"Ah. Antagonist number two: Uncle Dave."
"Who's number one?"
"Rudy," he said plainly.
"Who's number three?"
"Haven't got one yet. Well, maybe, but I don't think so."
"I see," I said. I'd learned not to ask these people their ideas until they were absolutely sure. The door was opened and Bradly came out with the box he retrieved from under Shelby's bed.
"Hey," he called from the porch. "How about a little help?"
"That's what I'm here for," said Wally, and we started walking over. Shelby came out just as soon as we'd made it there and Bradly had placed the box on the porch next to the first.
"Wow," said Shelby, looking at Wally. "That was fast."
"Well, you said as soon as I could," said Wally.
"I guess I did. Come on up," and he opened the door, but turned to me. "Casey, could you put those boxes in the trunk?"
"Sure," I said, and they disappeared into the house, followed by Bradly.
I closed the trunk and hoisted myself up to sit on it. I looked through the windshield of the cop car and saw that Dave was passed out and leaning against the door. What a beaut. It was at this point that it truly dawned on me-- I finally understood the whole 'sha-bang', as Shelby would put it. Just how important this event in his life had to be. He was escaping a prison that he'd been held captive in since he was five. Since his parents' deaths. I couldn't help but feel sorry for him. I also couldn't help feeling glad for myself for not having to be in his situation, but I felt bad for feeling that way. I've got to stop with the confusing talk.
I don't know how long I was lost, sitting out there thinking, but I was snapped back to Earth with a muffled "Hey! Kid!"
I looked up and saw Dave, looking at me from the back seat of the squad car.
"C'mere," he said. At first, I just glared at him, but seeing as how he was cuffed and locked in a car, I figured, 'why not?'. I slid off the trunk and walked over to the passenger side back door. The window was about a fifth of the way down.
"What?" I demanded.
"I got a surprise fer you," he said, a wicked smile growing on his face.
"And that would be?" I asked.
"I'm gonna get that boy," he said. "He let his parents get killed, and now he's runnin' away from it. He's gonna get his, that little punk."
I grimaced at his gross smile, and straightened up to walk away.
"I'm not done yet!!" he barked. I jumped a bit, but I bent down to look at him again, the smiled transformed into a harsh scowl.
"I'm gonna get you, too, you little bastard. And them cops. And that spikey- haired son of a bitch in the truck. You're all gonna get what's a-comin' to ya."
I started to back away, a little freaked, when Bradly kicked the door, just enough to rattle Dave.
"O.K., pal, that's it." he said, looking at his prisoner. He stood up and looked at me. "Look, I'm gonna take him in. I'll leave Ray here to help you guys finish up, and I'll be back as soon as I can. Alright?"
He had this heroic protector aura about him, and he seemed to really have it in for guys like Dave. I think he must've known from experience.
"Yeah," I said. "Yeah, that's cool."
He bid me goodbye and took off for the station. I looked up to the porch and saw Shelby and Wally banging their way out the front door with a big peice of wood.
"What's this?" I asked.
"Part of his bed," said Wally, over his shoulder.
"Oh boy," I said in mock excitement but with a genuine smile, "The Big Stuff!"
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....To Be Continued.... If this wasn't long enough, let me know. I certainly hope it was. Also, I'm considering changing the font. If there are any preferences, or if I should keep the courier, let me know. Unlike choosing a President, the popular vote will win. ;) Any Comments or Criticism go to me at servo_blue@usa.com