I Guess I'll Never Get To Call You Mine
ALINE
The leaves rustled softly as I hitched myself up another branch. I scraped a knee against the bark and winced. I’m never good at climbing trees, and doing so in the middle of the night made me feel like some retarded burglar. I checked my watch. It said 2:58 am. Okay, make that three in the morning. I pulled myself up to a standing position and dusted off my jeans. The curtains of his window were closed. He might be asleep but then he could also leave the lights off on purpose so his parents think he’s asleep. I slowly took out the pebbles I collected from the ground from my pocket and began throwing them systematically one by one at the window.
Pebble throwing is a practiced art. It takes a precise movement of the wrist to make the perfect rattling noise that a parent’s sensitive ears won’t pick up. I must’ve thrown around five now but the curtains still remained drawn. I thought about going back down to grab more stones when he finally flung the window open, looking annoyed.
“Oh, hey Aline.” Charles didn’t look entirely surprised to see me hanging around the big oak tree in front of his window. It doesn’t even make top ten in the list of the crazy things we’ve done together growing up. “Yo,” I said. “Can I come in?” “You could’ve given me a heads-up before. I can let you through in the back door.” “Your back door is broken, remember? It creaks and I don’t want to wake your parents.” “Right,” he said glumly. “Can you make it?” “I think so,” I grimaced. The last time I attempted a tree jump I’d almost killed myself and scared poor Chuck half to death. “Back off.”
Taking a deep breath, I braced myself and took a flying leap, trying not to scream as my feet touched the roof tiles right in front of his window. Chuck quickly grabbed my arms to stop me from falling over but I crashed on top of him instead, both of us tumbling on his bedroom floor. “Ouch,” I grimaced, rolling off him. He turned to face me, both of us breathing hard. For some reason the intensity of his gaze makes me blush. I sat up and rubbed my elbow. “Sorry about that.” “S’kay,” he grumbled, standing up. The light of the full moon cast a low halo on his messy brown hair. “You alright?” He didn’t look happy. I guess his already strained relationship with parents, and especially his father, has not improved in the mere hours since I last saw him.
“Yeah I’m OK,” I finally said. “Did you write that letter to your dad?” “Hmm…sort of. It’s not really a letter yet I guess. I just kind of write down my thoughts and feelings.” He raised an eyebrow. “What are you doing here anyway, Al? Aren’t you supposed to leave for Ottawa tomorrow?” He checked the clock on his dresser. “Oh wow is it morning already? I mean, aren’t you leaving today?” “Insomnia,” I sighed. “The thought of having to leave all of you guys kept me from sleeping.”
He stayed quiet for a moment. “Do you want to go for a walk?” he said suddenly. “What? You mean, now?” I said, surprised. “Why not?” he shrugged. “My parents and Louis are asleep. Or maybe we can take my dad’s truck. I know where the keys are. Heck, he won’t care. He hates me anyway.” “He doesn’t hate you, Charles,” I insisted. “And anyways, you don’t even know how to drive.” He grinned. “But you do.”
Chuck is usually a reasonable and logical guy, but occasionally he gets totally random ideas that for some unfathomable reason I always go along with. We took his dad’s battered pickup truck and just drove away, going straight ahead without giving a specific destination in mind.
He turned on the radio to some soft, country music and started talking about the plans he’d made with Pierre on the future of their band, his eyes lighting up as he mentioned upcoming gigs and several interested record labels. He didn’t mention about going to McGill or his fight his parents at all, nor did he touch the subject of my moving to Ottawa. I think he’s trying to distract me, but it kind of worked. It was a nice morning, and we’d let the windows down to let a bit of the chilly air freshen us up. The streets were deserted I hummed happily to the music while listening to Chuck. It’s hard not to get excited for him. He really knows what he wanted to do with his life and he is so sure that success is in his way that I believed it too.
“What about you, Al?” he asked. “What do you want to do?” “I don’t really know, honestly,” I admitted. “You’re way more ambitious than I am. But I know I want to travel the world one day.” “Me too! Aw man, imagine all the places we will see one day on tour.” I grinned. “But you’ll eventually go back to Montréal, won’t you? To tell me about your adventures?” “I never go back on my promises,” he said solemnly.
SCREECH! The truck stopped abruptly. I tried the ignition key but the darn vehicle stubbornly won’t budge. Chuck and I didn’t have cellphones back then so we can’t exactly call for a tow-truck service. Besides, even if we did, our parents would find out and barbeque us alive.
“Now how the heck are we going to do?” I complained. Chuck opened the door and jumped out. “We walk of course,” he said. “Look, that sign said the nearest town is only two miles away. We can phone for help.” “You’re nuts,” I told him, but I couldn’t come up with a better idea so I got off as well.
He spent the whole time trying to make me laugh, obviously still trying to cheer me up on the prospect of my inevitable move even though I knew he’s got his own problems. He told me funny stories about failed band rehearsals and the time where he and Jeff carted Seb to the barber’s by force to get rid of his soup bowl haircut. We had a grand time and I almost wished our walk were longer when we finally reached the aforementioned town. We dug into our pockets and pooled our change to call a mechanic. The dude we called said it’d take awhile so we decided to take a walk around town while he worked.
By this time the sun had started to rise, bathing the world in its early pink-golden glow. Chuck and I went to a bakery and bought half a dozen hot rolls between us, which we devoured as we window-shopped in this cute little cobblestone street lit up by gas lamps. Most of the shops that lined the street sold old-fashioned vintage trinkets—the kind of stuff my grandmother liked to keep in her attic.
My mind tried to warn me that we both would be in big trouble when we eventually got back. Mom would be furious. But it was such a peaceful morning and I’m with my best friend and we were having a great time that my brain pushed that nagging little thought into the back of my mind. If Chuck is worried about getting grounded he didn’t show it.
“Ooh, this is pretty.” I stopped at an antique shop and pointed at a trinity pendant on a silver chain. I’m not usually interested in jewelry but I liked the pendant’s simple design of glass, quartz and blue agate stone. “It’ll look nice on you,” Chuck admitted. We watched someone from inside the store change the sign on the window from CLOSED to OPEN. “Hey, wait here,” he suddenly said. “I’m going to go check something out.” “But Chuck—” “Wait.” He darted inside the store, leaving me outside. I shrugged and sat down on the front steps. I wonder what he’s up to this time.
After what seemed like ages I finally heard the door open. I was about to turn around but felt two hands blocking my eyes. “Hey!” I giggled. “No fair! Get your hands off, dude.” “You have to promise to keep your eyes closed first,” he teased. “Okay, okay,” I smiled, feeling the pressure on my face lighten. I felt something light and cool on my chest and Chuck’s fingers gently brushing my long hair away as he fumbled with something at the back of my neck. “You can open your eyes now,” he said proudly.
I looked down at my chest and gasped. The necklace I’d been admiring with him just a few minutes ago was now dangling around my neck. “Oh my gosh how much did this cost you?” I said, horrified. The chain looked like it’s real silver, and I know that Chuck didn’t have a lot of money. Everything currently earns from his various jobs goes to financing his band.
He grinned and put a hand up as a sign for truce. “I worked it out with the owner and he was willing to give me a serious discount,” he said. “Don’t try and pay me back, Al. You’ll find your efforts thwarted.” He smiled. “The money doesn’t matter. You’re leaving today. I want to give you something to remember me by.” I shook my head. “This is really stupid of you,” I said. “But thank you, I love it.” “As much as you love me?” he laughed. “Don’t be silly, Charles,” I smiled. “Of course I love you more.”
I groaned and opened my eyes, my hands automatically trying to rub the sleep off them. I felt a strain around my wrists as I tried to perform this task, and found out that they were tied together firmly with a piece of rope. Then I realized my legs were bound together too. Gawd what happened in here?
My mouth felt like sandpaper and there was a dull throbbing in my head. I must’ve been unconscious for some time. Let’s see…what was the last thing I remember? My bound hands instinctively reached up to my face, slowly drawing the silver chain I always wore from around my neck. Despite the dim light, the trinity symbol still shone brightly against the darkness of the room. Aw man, I’ve had this really weird dream. It’s not a dream actually. More like a memory.
Yawning, I took a good look of my surroundings. There were boxes and several other unidentifiable large objects around me, making this place look like a cellar. I would’ve guessed that I was in someone’s musty basement…except that the floor underneath me was moving.
Before I can doubt my sanity, I heard a scuffling noise next to me that nearly made me jump. I think I would’ve, except my stupid legs are still tied up. “Laurence?” I blinked. “Is that you?” “Aline? Where are we?” The dark blob with my friend’s voice started to jerk more urgently, trying to put herself in a sitting position. “What happened?”
“Not sure, but I think we’re in some sort of boat,” I said. “See how we’re rocking back and forth? Someone stowed us away in the cargo hold.” “Whoa, whoa, whoa, hold on.” My eyes started to adjust to the dark and I can see her struggling against her bonds. “Who put us in a boat and why in the world would they do that?”
I closed my eyes and tried to think. “Remember that strange car that was following us? I dimly recall going out to confront it.” “Didn’t the driver get out? Some macho guy who grabbed you?” “Yeah, he held up a handkerchief to my face. I remember a funny smell.” I cursed, something I rarely did. “Must be chloroform.” “I came out to help you,” Laurence said, gasping. “Another guy came out did the same thing to me!” “Well, this can only mean one thing,” I said grimly. “We’re kidnapped.”
Pebble throwing is a practiced art. It takes a precise movement of the wrist to make the perfect rattling noise that a parent’s sensitive ears won’t pick up. I must’ve thrown around five now but the curtains still remained drawn. I thought about going back down to grab more stones when he finally flung the window open, looking annoyed.
“Oh, hey Aline.” Charles didn’t look entirely surprised to see me hanging around the big oak tree in front of his window. It doesn’t even make top ten in the list of the crazy things we’ve done together growing up. “Yo,” I said. “Can I come in?” “You could’ve given me a heads-up before. I can let you through in the back door.” “Your back door is broken, remember? It creaks and I don’t want to wake your parents.” “Right,” he said glumly. “Can you make it?” “I think so,” I grimaced. The last time I attempted a tree jump I’d almost killed myself and scared poor Chuck half to death. “Back off.”
Taking a deep breath, I braced myself and took a flying leap, trying not to scream as my feet touched the roof tiles right in front of his window. Chuck quickly grabbed my arms to stop me from falling over but I crashed on top of him instead, both of us tumbling on his bedroom floor. “Ouch,” I grimaced, rolling off him. He turned to face me, both of us breathing hard. For some reason the intensity of his gaze makes me blush. I sat up and rubbed my elbow. “Sorry about that.” “S’kay,” he grumbled, standing up. The light of the full moon cast a low halo on his messy brown hair. “You alright?” He didn’t look happy. I guess his already strained relationship with parents, and especially his father, has not improved in the mere hours since I last saw him.
“Yeah I’m OK,” I finally said. “Did you write that letter to your dad?” “Hmm…sort of. It’s not really a letter yet I guess. I just kind of write down my thoughts and feelings.” He raised an eyebrow. “What are you doing here anyway, Al? Aren’t you supposed to leave for Ottawa tomorrow?” He checked the clock on his dresser. “Oh wow is it morning already? I mean, aren’t you leaving today?” “Insomnia,” I sighed. “The thought of having to leave all of you guys kept me from sleeping.”
He stayed quiet for a moment. “Do you want to go for a walk?” he said suddenly. “What? You mean, now?” I said, surprised. “Why not?” he shrugged. “My parents and Louis are asleep. Or maybe we can take my dad’s truck. I know where the keys are. Heck, he won’t care. He hates me anyway.” “He doesn’t hate you, Charles,” I insisted. “And anyways, you don’t even know how to drive.” He grinned. “But you do.”
Chuck is usually a reasonable and logical guy, but occasionally he gets totally random ideas that for some unfathomable reason I always go along with. We took his dad’s battered pickup truck and just drove away, going straight ahead without giving a specific destination in mind.
He turned on the radio to some soft, country music and started talking about the plans he’d made with Pierre on the future of their band, his eyes lighting up as he mentioned upcoming gigs and several interested record labels. He didn’t mention about going to McGill or his fight his parents at all, nor did he touch the subject of my moving to Ottawa. I think he’s trying to distract me, but it kind of worked. It was a nice morning, and we’d let the windows down to let a bit of the chilly air freshen us up. The streets were deserted I hummed happily to the music while listening to Chuck. It’s hard not to get excited for him. He really knows what he wanted to do with his life and he is so sure that success is in his way that I believed it too.
“What about you, Al?” he asked. “What do you want to do?” “I don’t really know, honestly,” I admitted. “You’re way more ambitious than I am. But I know I want to travel the world one day.” “Me too! Aw man, imagine all the places we will see one day on tour.” I grinned. “But you’ll eventually go back to Montréal, won’t you? To tell me about your adventures?” “I never go back on my promises,” he said solemnly.
SCREECH! The truck stopped abruptly. I tried the ignition key but the darn vehicle stubbornly won’t budge. Chuck and I didn’t have cellphones back then so we can’t exactly call for a tow-truck service. Besides, even if we did, our parents would find out and barbeque us alive.
“Now how the heck are we going to do?” I complained. Chuck opened the door and jumped out. “We walk of course,” he said. “Look, that sign said the nearest town is only two miles away. We can phone for help.” “You’re nuts,” I told him, but I couldn’t come up with a better idea so I got off as well.
He spent the whole time trying to make me laugh, obviously still trying to cheer me up on the prospect of my inevitable move even though I knew he’s got his own problems. He told me funny stories about failed band rehearsals and the time where he and Jeff carted Seb to the barber’s by force to get rid of his soup bowl haircut. We had a grand time and I almost wished our walk were longer when we finally reached the aforementioned town. We dug into our pockets and pooled our change to call a mechanic. The dude we called said it’d take awhile so we decided to take a walk around town while he worked.
By this time the sun had started to rise, bathing the world in its early pink-golden glow. Chuck and I went to a bakery and bought half a dozen hot rolls between us, which we devoured as we window-shopped in this cute little cobblestone street lit up by gas lamps. Most of the shops that lined the street sold old-fashioned vintage trinkets—the kind of stuff my grandmother liked to keep in her attic.
My mind tried to warn me that we both would be in big trouble when we eventually got back. Mom would be furious. But it was such a peaceful morning and I’m with my best friend and we were having a great time that my brain pushed that nagging little thought into the back of my mind. If Chuck is worried about getting grounded he didn’t show it.
“Ooh, this is pretty.” I stopped at an antique shop and pointed at a trinity pendant on a silver chain. I’m not usually interested in jewelry but I liked the pendant’s simple design of glass, quartz and blue agate stone. “It’ll look nice on you,” Chuck admitted. We watched someone from inside the store change the sign on the window from CLOSED to OPEN. “Hey, wait here,” he suddenly said. “I’m going to go check something out.” “But Chuck—” “Wait.” He darted inside the store, leaving me outside. I shrugged and sat down on the front steps. I wonder what he’s up to this time.
After what seemed like ages I finally heard the door open. I was about to turn around but felt two hands blocking my eyes. “Hey!” I giggled. “No fair! Get your hands off, dude.” “You have to promise to keep your eyes closed first,” he teased. “Okay, okay,” I smiled, feeling the pressure on my face lighten. I felt something light and cool on my chest and Chuck’s fingers gently brushing my long hair away as he fumbled with something at the back of my neck. “You can open your eyes now,” he said proudly.
I looked down at my chest and gasped. The necklace I’d been admiring with him just a few minutes ago was now dangling around my neck. “Oh my gosh how much did this cost you?” I said, horrified. The chain looked like it’s real silver, and I know that Chuck didn’t have a lot of money. Everything currently earns from his various jobs goes to financing his band.
He grinned and put a hand up as a sign for truce. “I worked it out with the owner and he was willing to give me a serious discount,” he said. “Don’t try and pay me back, Al. You’ll find your efforts thwarted.” He smiled. “The money doesn’t matter. You’re leaving today. I want to give you something to remember me by.” I shook my head. “This is really stupid of you,” I said. “But thank you, I love it.” “As much as you love me?” he laughed. “Don’t be silly, Charles,” I smiled. “Of course I love you more.”
I groaned and opened my eyes, my hands automatically trying to rub the sleep off them. I felt a strain around my wrists as I tried to perform this task, and found out that they were tied together firmly with a piece of rope. Then I realized my legs were bound together too. Gawd what happened in here?
My mouth felt like sandpaper and there was a dull throbbing in my head. I must’ve been unconscious for some time. Let’s see…what was the last thing I remember? My bound hands instinctively reached up to my face, slowly drawing the silver chain I always wore from around my neck. Despite the dim light, the trinity symbol still shone brightly against the darkness of the room. Aw man, I’ve had this really weird dream. It’s not a dream actually. More like a memory.
Yawning, I took a good look of my surroundings. There were boxes and several other unidentifiable large objects around me, making this place look like a cellar. I would’ve guessed that I was in someone’s musty basement…except that the floor underneath me was moving.
Before I can doubt my sanity, I heard a scuffling noise next to me that nearly made me jump. I think I would’ve, except my stupid legs are still tied up. “Laurence?” I blinked. “Is that you?” “Aline? Where are we?” The dark blob with my friend’s voice started to jerk more urgently, trying to put herself in a sitting position. “What happened?”
“Not sure, but I think we’re in some sort of boat,” I said. “See how we’re rocking back and forth? Someone stowed us away in the cargo hold.” “Whoa, whoa, whoa, hold on.” My eyes started to adjust to the dark and I can see her struggling against her bonds. “Who put us in a boat and why in the world would they do that?”
I closed my eyes and tried to think. “Remember that strange car that was following us? I dimly recall going out to confront it.” “Didn’t the driver get out? Some macho guy who grabbed you?” “Yeah, he held up a handkerchief to my face. I remember a funny smell.” I cursed, something I rarely did. “Must be chloroform.” “I came out to help you,” Laurence said, gasping. “Another guy came out did the same thing to me!” “Well, this can only mean one thing,” I said grimly. “We’re kidnapped.”