The Devil's Pawn

I awoke to the sounds of trucks beeping. Prying my eyes opened, I glanced at the clock next to my bed.
9:37.

I groaned, stretching my arms above my head. It was too early on a Saturday morning to
be awake. I rubbed my eyes, pulling jeans on. I ran a hand through my hair, not glancing at
my reflection in the mirror as I left the room heading downstairs.

Mom stood in the window, her face hardened. Her boney arms were crossed tightly over
her chest with her hip cocked. She chewed on her bottom lip nervously.

I walked over, standing on her side to see what she was looking at. Two moving trucks
were parked outside the house across from us, people walking in and out with furniture. I
could see two unfamiliar cars parked along the curb, most likely belonging to the owners of
the house.

The house had been vacant for a few months now, the previous owner moving out
because of the death of the husband. The Burns. That’s who previously lived there. They
were the only people Mom liked in our neighborhood.

“We have new neighbors” Mom said, her voice a little snippy.

I nodded, “You going to say hello?”

Mom shrugged, not taking her eyes away from the house, “Maybe. Why, do you want to?”

“Not particularly.” I mumbled

“If I see any of those other people saying hello, then we will.”

The ‘other’ people would be every house around ours. “They probably won’t.”

“I hope not.”

I laughed. I didn’t have to ask to know that Mom didn’t want to socialize with our new
neighbors. Mom wasn’t a people-person, preferring to spend her time cooking, cleaning, or
working.

“Did you see any kids?” I asked hopefully. I crossed my fingers behind my back.

“No. I think it’s just a man living there alone.”

I sighed. I was the only person at my bus stop, which made me the only kid in my
neighborhood. I longed for anyone, not matter the age.

It got lonely after a while.

“I know, sweetie.” She understood that I had always wanted someone, whether I could
just babysit or actually talk to. I had friends, but they lived farther away.

“What are you two staring at?” My father asked. I turned around to see him walking into
the room, a cup of coffee in his hands. His glasses rested on the tip of his nose showing
that he had been reading the newspaper. He only wore glasses to read. The remaining hair
on his balding head stuck up randomly.

“Hello Dad” I smiled

“Hey, sweetie” He didn’t return the smile, his eyes trained on Mom. She didn’t turn
around.

“We have new neighbors, Harold” Mom said with a strained voice.

Dad groaned, “Did you see any kids?”

Mom shook her head tightly.

“Good” Dad grumbled “We don’t need any noise-making children ruining my peace and
quiet.”

I kept my face neutral. Dad didn’t care that I had no one to hang out with. He just cared
that I got my schoolwork done with the highest score.

I wrapped my arms around my stomach before walking away from the window. I walked
past my dad into the kitchen. Dad settled himself back down at the kitchen table as I got
myself a bowl of cereal.

It was silent while he read his article. Once he finished, he folded up the paper, looking
at me intently. I kept my gaze focused on my food.

“How’s school?” Dad asked.

I shrugged “It’s ok. Mr. Laymen assigned us a three page essay on how successful the
checks and balances system is for Tuesday.”

“Oh really?” Dad asked, interested. He worked in the government, so of course he’d
take notice to anything related.

I nodded, “I’m not quite sure what my thesis will be. I want to take a look at a few of the
articles he gave us last week.”

“If you want any pointers, you know where I’ll be” Dad said, giving a nod towards his
study. When wasn’t he there? He was just as bad as Mom.

With a sigh, I walked back to where my mother stood. I wondered if she had moved at
all. It didn’t look likely.

“Oh, Taylor?” Mom asked in a particularly sweet voice.

I hesitated, my foot resting on the first stair, “Yes, Mother?”

“Go get dressed nicely.” Mom said, looking at me “We’re going to welcome the
neighbors.”

I glanced from her to the window “Who went over?”

“No one” She said. “I want to be the first for once.”

“Why?”

She shrugged “Set a good impression. Be ready in an hour.”

Quickly, I ran up the stairs, locking myself in the bathroom. I stripped out of my clothes to
take a shower, turning the water as hot as I could tolerate. I made sure to rush through my
routine, cutting my leg in the process.

I bit my lip, holding back the pain. I paused for a moment to care for the cut before
getting straight back into my routine.

I could tell today wasn’t going to be my good day.

Forty minutes later I was uncapping my eyeliner, running it on the waterline of my eye. I
stood up, examining myself in the mirror. I was letting my hair dry naturally curly, something I
knew my mother wouldn’t approve of.

She absolutely hated when I walked around with damp hair, but she had only given me
an hour to get ready.

I walked down the stairs, straightening my shirt. I slipped on a jacket before meeting my
parents in the door way. Though it was May, the air was still fairly chilly in the mornings.

Mom had changed into a yellow dress that clashed with her dark hair. Dad went casual
with jeans and a nice button-down.

Mom scanned over my appearance, scowling. “Why is your hair wet?”

“This is as dry as I could get it in the house you gave me.” I said, embarrassed.

“Fine, it’ll have to do.”

“What’s that, dear?” Dad asked, pointing to the box in Mom’s hands.

“Brownies.” She said “If they asked, they’re homemade.”

We knew the drill. Pretend Mom was the perfect little wife. I had assumed she had went
out and bought the brownies from the store, messing a few up to appear homemade.

“Ready?” She asked.

Dad and I nodded. Mom opened the door, walking out into the sunshine. It must’ve been
closer to eleven for the air was a lot warmer than I had anticipated. I glanced at our
destination noticing how there were no more moving trucks. The cars had been moved to
the driveway, one parked in the garage.

Mom led the way as we crossed the street. Her heels clicked as she walked, something
she would’ve scolded me for sure if I had done that.

We walked up the pathway to the front door, arranging ourselves so that Mom stood in
the middle. Dad pressed the doorbell.

I sighed, bored. Mom prodded my back. I straightened up, flicking my damp hair over my
shoulder.

The door opened, revealing an old man. He smiled, clearly confused as to why we were
here.

“Hello!” Mom said cheerfully “We saw the moving trucks and wanted to welcome you to
the neighborhood. I’m Susan Thompson, and this is my Husband Harold and my daughter
Taylor.”

Dad and I smiled politely when Mom said our names.

“Oh hello” The man stepped aside, motioning for us to come in. “Sorry the house isn’t
very organized. I’m Steve Clark, by the way.”

“Like the guitarist from Def Leppard?” I asked.

Mom shot me a look as Mr. Clark closed the door. I bit my lip, knowing she didn’t like me
listening to that kind of music.

“I’m sorry. I just—”

“Yeah,” Mr. Clark laughed “I always got asked if I was named after him, but it was purely
coincidental.”

“That’s very fascinating” Dad said.

“Oh, Mr. Clark, we baked you brownies.” Mom said, holding out her gift. Mr. Clark
grinned, gratefully accepting them from us.

“Please, call me Steve.” He insisted. “And thank you very much.”

“So do you live here alone?” Dad asked curiously, his eyes sweeping over the newly
occupied house.

“No I live with my son, Trenton.” Mr. Clark said. “Excuse me for a moment.”

He walked over to the stairway, calling out his son’s name. I felt excitement race through
my heart. Finally, someone underage in my neighborhood. I crossed my fingers. Trenton.
That seemed like the name of a cute little boy.

If it was just Mr. Clark and his son, then he would need a babysitter, wouldn’t he? What
was an appropriate rate to charge for babysitting? It couldn’t be too expensive.

They had just moved in after all, money would be a little short. I could always just babysit
for free. I wouldn’t mind.

I loved little kids.

My heart all but broke when I heard the footsteps at the top of the stairs. I didn’t see the
body yet, but I knew they were too heavy for a little kid.

Legs appeared, proving that this wasn’t a young boy. He had to have been in high
school at least.

“This is my son, Trenton” Mr. Clark introduced when his son stepped off the last step.
He had to have been a senior by the way his body was built. Trenton wore baggy jeans with
an inch of his plaid boxers poking out. He had on a muscle shirt with an open flannel over
top, giving a clear view of a fairly developed chest. Dark hair stuck up in all different ways with
eyes just as piercingly dark. Two small holes poked through his ear lobes with purple rings
on the edges.

I wrapped my arms around my stomach, feeling a little intimidated by this kid.

“Trent, these are the Thompson’s” Mr. Clark introduced. “Susan and Harold. This is their
daughter, Taylor.”

Trenton nodded, not saying anything. I bit my lip as his eyes moved up and down my
body, taking me in.

“We live right across the street, Trenton, so we thought we’d welcome you into the
neighborhood.” Mom smiled gently. I could feel her tense body next to me, fully aware that
she disapproved of Trenton’s appearance.

But to be honest, he didn’t look like someone I wanted to associate myself with either. I
could imagine that he did drugs, smoked, and much worse.

In a few years, I could picture him on the news with the reporter saying ‘Trenton Clark
has been caught robbing a bank’.

“What grade are you in, Taylor?” Mr. Clark asked.

“I’m a senior.” I said, trying to make my voice sound confident.

“Oh good!” He clapped his hands together, looking at his son “Trent, here, is a senior
too. Maybe you could show him around school tomorrow.”

I smiled politely “I doubt we’ll have any classes together.”

“You never know.”

“That’s true.” I said just to be polite. I was in all Honors classes though, and this kid
looked like he could barely pass last year.

“Would you like any help unpacking?” Dad asked, feeling the tension between us.

“Actually…” Mr. Clark trailed off looking around, “That would be awesome.”

“Harold, honey, what about work?” Mom asked, trying to give Dad the hint to get out of
here. Dad ignored her hint, clearly taking a liking to Mr. Clark.

“It’s Saturday, Suze, I’m sure they’ll understand” Dad waved her off. “But if you need to
get to work, you can take my car.”

Mom sighed, holding back her anger “Alright, honey.”

“Taylor, are you going with your mother?” Dad asked.

I glanced at Mom. I knew when she was angry that she wasn’t fun to be with. I knew that
if I went home with her, she would spend the entire time whining about how annoyed she
was with my father.

As uncomfortable I was with Trenton, I would rather not spend time alone with my
mother when she was in a foul mood.

“I think I’ll help them move in.” I said, keeping my eyes away from my mother.

“Alright, darling. I’m sorry, Steve, but I really do have to get to work.” My mother
apologized. I knew she wasn’t actually going to work. She would probably end up at the
grocery store, whining to the checkout boy.

“It’s understandable” Mr. Clark said, “Unfortunate that you have to work on such a
beautiful Saturday though.”

Mom smiled apologetically before leaving with a goodbye to everyone. Once she closed
the door, Dad turned to Mr. Clark, asking what he wanted help with.

“Well, I’d like to get some of the furniture up, if you’d like to help.” Mr. Clark said. “Taylor,
if you could help Trenton with the upstairs, that’d be great.”

I smiled, holding back my disconcert “Of course.”

I looked at Trenton, meeting his eyes, “Let’s go”

He led the way up the stairs. I had been in this house before when the Burns had lived
in it previously, but it surprised me to see all the bare walls. They had pictures everywhere
that they could. The bare walls made me feel slightly claustrophobic as we walked upstairs.

The hallways, on the other hand weren’t so bare. Boxes were stacked all through it,
making it hard to get through. Trenton led me to one of the rooms where boxes were piled
up. He placed a hand on top of one of the boxes, glancing at me.

“So…” I trailed off “What do you want me to do?”

“The boxes are labeled either with a ‘T’ or an ‘S’” He explained. His voice was deep,
much deeper than I had expected. “Find the boxes with an ‘S’ on them and bring them in
here.”

“Is that it?” I asked.

He nodded. “Let’s go, we have a lot to do.”