Saturday, August 9, 2008

Short Story Part # 3

I'm back but not fully operational. Damn Comcast and it's shady service. Here is part 3 of my short story. Part 2 has posted June 29th and it also has the link to Part 1.

He was lost. It made his stomach feel sour. He sat down on the sidewalk under a street lamp and looked down the steep hill. His nose stung like a carpet burn and his eyes were dry and hurt from crying. His throat hurt from crying too. Dark. He thought of the Chinaman and shivered. And Ninjas and Aztecs. Professor said that the Aztecs died a long time ago, but Patrice didn’t know if he could believe them anymore. He almost wanted to go back, but he had to get to Cici’s place. Alex hadn’t wanted to share the room. “Only one piece can occupy a square at a time,” he had said. And then he told him what the Aztecs did to their sacrifices and Patrice had spent three nights in the big bed in between Mommy and Professor. Mommy had not been happy.
Mommy didn’t like him anymore so he couldn’t go back. Pat looked around. The wind rustled the leaves and he moaned. He had never walked here before, though he may have gone down this way on a school bus. He didn’t know where to go and he was tired. He was scared too, scared enough to puke.
Professor always said, “Think out your moves. But at this level, don’t try to make the perfect move, you should learn, experiment. It’s just a game.”
He heard sirens and squatted behind a big metal mail box as two police cars whizzed by. The last time he had seen a police car was when Professor’s friend Mr. Mueller had been robbed. They had beat him up and Mommy and Professor had visited him in the hospital.
They dropped Alex and Patrice at Cici’s house. Patrice hoped Cici would take him, and he didn’t understand why Mommy had wanted the baby more than him. The moon had come up and Patrice could see a house that’s walls were slightly darker than the others. Could that be the blue house? He walked towards it, hurrying and then running. He didn’t know much about robbers and cops. But if they were chess pieces, they would be bishops because they could swing across the board, and pow! knock out a pawn, a Patrice, just like that.
“Professor, whatcha doin,” Patrice asked nervously as he watched him build something in his room.
“It’s a crib for the baby.”
“What about me?”
“That’s why we got a bunk bed, Pat. So you and Alex can share a room.”
“I thought it was just for a little while.”
“No, sorry, little man.” Professor wiped his forehead and left a black stain there. “But there’s safety in numbers. When you wake up and think there’s a monster under your bed, you don’t have to run into our room anymore. Alex is a pro with those things. And I shared a room with my brother, your Uncle Tim, when I was growing up and it was fun. Okay?”
“I guess.”

1 comment:

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