Status: Active
The Edge
o12
Brian:
"I don't want you going anywhere near him anymore. It's dangerous, he's dangerous." My mother babbled, pacing about the kitchen in an attempt to busy herself, "He could kill you."
She was being completely irrational, and both of us knew it. They news had reported the mysterious deaths of three woman, all of whom died in Zacky's cell. The news reported had explained that the bodies had been through every test they could give and no evidence had come up from it. He had even said the doctors had proven that Zacky could not have had anything to do with their deaths. It was just impossible. But still, my mother was freaking out because the peaceful neighbor boy is a psycho killer. Or, so she thinks.
"Mom, seriously. They said he couldn't have done anything..." I was about to give up, I'd been telling her the same things over and over again, and she refused to listen to me. As exasperated as it was for me, I couldn't blame her, even though my gut instinct was telling me this was something far greater than some little thirteen year old boy.
My mother shook her tawny head, worry lines sunk into her normally youthful face, "Brian, I can't... I'm your mother. Mothers are supposed to keep their babies away from harm."
As much as I didn't like being her seventeen year old baby, she was my mother, and I trusted her to a certain degree. She let me smoke and have my violent friends come over, I sort of owed her one.
Speaking of violent friends...
"Mom, can I at least go over to Matt's?" I asked, trying to reason her into letting me out of the house. She'd kept me here for three days, demanding I'd come home directly after school and not go out again, "I promise I won't go anywhere else, but you know I always come home feeling better after I get to hang out with them, you know..."
I tried to put on my best 'innocent kid' face, but when your mom's seen you hung over, really drunk, and super stoned, innocent doesn't exactly do the trick anymore. Nevertheless, my mom looked me carefully up and down, deciding the likelihood of me sneaking off to an insane asylum.
She stayed silent a moment, putting her hands on her wide hips and sighing, "As long as you promise not to go anywhere else without my consent."
I grinned like a maniac, standing up so forcefully that the wooden dining room chair I'd been perched on fell back. I scrambled to lift it off of the dark chocolate carpeting, apologizing to my mother and assuring her I wouldn't go anywhere without her direct permission before running to my room to throw some shit together and call Matt.
~
"And so... that's all of it." I took a long drag of my cigarette, closing my eyes and blowing out little smoke rings.
Jimmy, Matt and I were strewn across the carpet in Matt's room, the posters on his navy walls seemed we watch out every move as we passed around a bottle of Jimmy's mom's wine and blew smoke rings at one another. I'd finished explaining to them the entire situation, or the "shit that went down" as Matt likes to call it.
They were a lot more sympathetic than I thought they'd be, rather than joking about people dying, Matt and Jimmy both took it seriously. I was thankful that they understood my bond with a kid I'd known for such a short time, and didn't question it at all.
"So how are you going to get to see him, then?" Jimmy asked curiously, taking a quick swig of the wine bottle and glancing at me, his eyes alive with the master plan hatching in his mind.
I grinned. Leave it to Jimbo to come up with some way to break me into an insane asylum, "I don't know, it certainly isn't going to 'blow over' with my mom, she never forgets things like this. I guess I just have to... er, somehow... trick my mom? I don't like lying to her, though."
One of them mumbled, "Pussy," under his breath, making my head snap up and a glare come onto my face.
"Yeah? I'm a pussy cause my mom gives a shit about me and I don't want to crush her? Fucking-- your mom's an alcoholic, Jimmy, and yours is never around, Matt. At least my mom loves me and is doing this because she cares."
There was silence before Jimmy muttered, "Sorry, man."
I nodded curtly, "I didn't mean to act like a prick there, but you get where I'm coming from, right? I'm not fucking ashamed to say I love my mom. She puts up with my shit and you guy's shit cause you matter to me and cause I matter to her. Deal with it."
This time they nodded, and we fell into a comfortable silence. It was only a matter of time before Jimmy exploded, his mind cranking out different schemes to getting me to see Zacky. He was quite brilliant when it came to things like this. As brutal and dull as he looked on the outside, Jimmy was a genius, and he could figure out the most extraordinary solutions to ordinary problems.
We listened closely, throwing problems at different ideas he presented, suggesting parts to add on to his ideas or ideas of our own. It was probably the most work I'd ever done with them, but it was worth it, even though we came to the consensus that we couldn't do it tonight, or probably not all that soon. We had to wait for the perfect opportunity to present itself, and when it did, we'd take it.
For now, though, we busied ourselves jotting down notes on scrap paper and finishing the last of the wine, getting half-buzzed and passing out on top of each other.
~
We woke up the next morning (well, evening, we'd stayed up till noon and slept in until six thirty) with the bitter taste of the wine still in my mouth, and my head slightly throbbing. I shoved Matt viciously off of me, mumbling to myself and grinning when he rolled half on top of Jimmy, making the taller growl in his sleep and shove at Matt.
I slipped out of his room, descending the steps and stepping into his off-white kitchen, going over to the pantry and digging out some poptarts. While I was going back to the toaster and placing the pastries into it, pushing the tray down, my phone began to scream music at me, jolting me out of my morning stupor.
I yanked it out of my pocket, flipping it open and pressing it to my ear, mumbling a groggy, "Hello?"
"Brian? Why the hell haven't you picked up? What if I seriously need to talk to you?"
It wasn't his mom's voice, like he'd expected it to be.
"Zacky, how the hell are you on the phone now?" I said, alertness returning to me. So many questions flooded my mind, the one I'd just asked him, but also how he knew my number, and other things like, was he okay, had he listened to me when I'd told him to cheek the pills, were they being mean to him... Those sort of things.
There was a soft laugh. It was fucking adorab-- It was kind of cute. Nope. No thinking a thirteen year old guy is mildly adorable. None at all.
He responded, "Well, Ann let me use her phone, after a bit of persuasion. And don't worry about how I got you number and stuff, I'll tell you later. I'm doing fine, I haven't taken the pills, and yeah, they're all total bitches here, but what-the-fuck-ever, I'm used to it already."
I wondered vaguely how he'd managed to answer every single question I'd been thinking of without me voicing any but the one. Well, maybe they were generic questions I'd just happened t be thinking of. Or something.
"Listen, Zack, my mom won't let me come and see you anymore. She doesn't want me near you. On the bright side, Jimmy, Matt and I are figuring out a way to break us in... Or get me to you, somehow." I stated, trying to explain everything as quickly as possible.
There was a noise on the other line and an agitated sigh, "That's good Brian, keep working on it. I have to go, Ann is getting... pissy." There was shuffling on the other side of the line and what sounded like a moan before he snapped, "Stop." and it fell silent.
"Alright, bye then, Zacky..." I mumbled, not really wanting to hang up.
He laughed his charming little laugh, breathing a goodbye into the phone before the line went dead. I kept the phone to my face for a moment, dragged back to reality by the sound of my poptarts popping up. I shoved my phone back into my pocket, grabbing the poptarts and stumbling back up the stairs.
~
"I don't want you going anywhere near him anymore. It's dangerous, he's dangerous." My mother babbled, pacing about the kitchen in an attempt to busy herself, "He could kill you."
She was being completely irrational, and both of us knew it. They news had reported the mysterious deaths of three woman, all of whom died in Zacky's cell. The news reported had explained that the bodies had been through every test they could give and no evidence had come up from it. He had even said the doctors had proven that Zacky could not have had anything to do with their deaths. It was just impossible. But still, my mother was freaking out because the peaceful neighbor boy is a psycho killer. Or, so she thinks.
"Mom, seriously. They said he couldn't have done anything..." I was about to give up, I'd been telling her the same things over and over again, and she refused to listen to me. As exasperated as it was for me, I couldn't blame her, even though my gut instinct was telling me this was something far greater than some little thirteen year old boy.
My mother shook her tawny head, worry lines sunk into her normally youthful face, "Brian, I can't... I'm your mother. Mothers are supposed to keep their babies away from harm."
As much as I didn't like being her seventeen year old baby, she was my mother, and I trusted her to a certain degree. She let me smoke and have my violent friends come over, I sort of owed her one.
Speaking of violent friends...
"Mom, can I at least go over to Matt's?" I asked, trying to reason her into letting me out of the house. She'd kept me here for three days, demanding I'd come home directly after school and not go out again, "I promise I won't go anywhere else, but you know I always come home feeling better after I get to hang out with them, you know..."
I tried to put on my best 'innocent kid' face, but when your mom's seen you hung over, really drunk, and super stoned, innocent doesn't exactly do the trick anymore. Nevertheless, my mom looked me carefully up and down, deciding the likelihood of me sneaking off to an insane asylum.
She stayed silent a moment, putting her hands on her wide hips and sighing, "As long as you promise not to go anywhere else without my consent."
I grinned like a maniac, standing up so forcefully that the wooden dining room chair I'd been perched on fell back. I scrambled to lift it off of the dark chocolate carpeting, apologizing to my mother and assuring her I wouldn't go anywhere without her direct permission before running to my room to throw some shit together and call Matt.
~
"And so... that's all of it." I took a long drag of my cigarette, closing my eyes and blowing out little smoke rings.
Jimmy, Matt and I were strewn across the carpet in Matt's room, the posters on his navy walls seemed we watch out every move as we passed around a bottle of Jimmy's mom's wine and blew smoke rings at one another. I'd finished explaining to them the entire situation, or the "shit that went down" as Matt likes to call it.
They were a lot more sympathetic than I thought they'd be, rather than joking about people dying, Matt and Jimmy both took it seriously. I was thankful that they understood my bond with a kid I'd known for such a short time, and didn't question it at all.
"So how are you going to get to see him, then?" Jimmy asked curiously, taking a quick swig of the wine bottle and glancing at me, his eyes alive with the master plan hatching in his mind.
I grinned. Leave it to Jimbo to come up with some way to break me into an insane asylum, "I don't know, it certainly isn't going to 'blow over' with my mom, she never forgets things like this. I guess I just have to... er, somehow... trick my mom? I don't like lying to her, though."
One of them mumbled, "Pussy," under his breath, making my head snap up and a glare come onto my face.
"Yeah? I'm a pussy cause my mom gives a shit about me and I don't want to crush her? Fucking-- your mom's an alcoholic, Jimmy, and yours is never around, Matt. At least my mom loves me and is doing this because she cares."
There was silence before Jimmy muttered, "Sorry, man."
I nodded curtly, "I didn't mean to act like a prick there, but you get where I'm coming from, right? I'm not fucking ashamed to say I love my mom. She puts up with my shit and you guy's shit cause you matter to me and cause I matter to her. Deal with it."
This time they nodded, and we fell into a comfortable silence. It was only a matter of time before Jimmy exploded, his mind cranking out different schemes to getting me to see Zacky. He was quite brilliant when it came to things like this. As brutal and dull as he looked on the outside, Jimmy was a genius, and he could figure out the most extraordinary solutions to ordinary problems.
We listened closely, throwing problems at different ideas he presented, suggesting parts to add on to his ideas or ideas of our own. It was probably the most work I'd ever done with them, but it was worth it, even though we came to the consensus that we couldn't do it tonight, or probably not all that soon. We had to wait for the perfect opportunity to present itself, and when it did, we'd take it.
For now, though, we busied ourselves jotting down notes on scrap paper and finishing the last of the wine, getting half-buzzed and passing out on top of each other.
~
We woke up the next morning (well, evening, we'd stayed up till noon and slept in until six thirty) with the bitter taste of the wine still in my mouth, and my head slightly throbbing. I shoved Matt viciously off of me, mumbling to myself and grinning when he rolled half on top of Jimmy, making the taller growl in his sleep and shove at Matt.
I slipped out of his room, descending the steps and stepping into his off-white kitchen, going over to the pantry and digging out some poptarts. While I was going back to the toaster and placing the pastries into it, pushing the tray down, my phone began to scream music at me, jolting me out of my morning stupor.
I yanked it out of my pocket, flipping it open and pressing it to my ear, mumbling a groggy, "Hello?"
"Brian? Why the hell haven't you picked up? What if I seriously need to talk to you?"
It wasn't his mom's voice, like he'd expected it to be.
"Zacky, how the hell are you on the phone now?" I said, alertness returning to me. So many questions flooded my mind, the one I'd just asked him, but also how he knew my number, and other things like, was he okay, had he listened to me when I'd told him to cheek the pills, were they being mean to him... Those sort of things.
There was a soft laugh. It was fucking adorab-- It was kind of cute. Nope. No thinking a thirteen year old guy is mildly adorable. None at all.
He responded, "Well, Ann let me use her phone, after a bit of persuasion. And don't worry about how I got you number and stuff, I'll tell you later. I'm doing fine, I haven't taken the pills, and yeah, they're all total bitches here, but what-the-fuck-ever, I'm used to it already."
I wondered vaguely how he'd managed to answer every single question I'd been thinking of without me voicing any but the one. Well, maybe they were generic questions I'd just happened t be thinking of. Or something.
"Listen, Zack, my mom won't let me come and see you anymore. She doesn't want me near you. On the bright side, Jimmy, Matt and I are figuring out a way to break us in... Or get me to you, somehow." I stated, trying to explain everything as quickly as possible.
There was a noise on the other line and an agitated sigh, "That's good Brian, keep working on it. I have to go, Ann is getting... pissy." There was shuffling on the other side of the line and what sounded like a moan before he snapped, "Stop." and it fell silent.
"Alright, bye then, Zacky..." I mumbled, not really wanting to hang up.
He laughed his charming little laugh, breathing a goodbye into the phone before the line went dead. I kept the phone to my face for a moment, dragged back to reality by the sound of my poptarts popping up. I shoved my phone back into my pocket, grabbing the poptarts and stumbling back up the stairs.
~