Flesh and Bone
A/N: This idea came to me when I was reading some old horror novels that I had stashed away at the back of my book case, and from listening to a lot of symphonic metal music. Not exactly Riley's choice of music, but it more or less fits with the plot. Normally I'd save stories like this for Halloween, but I'd rather not wait that long. This story is a major change from my usual fandom, but I think it's time to expand. Anyway, feedback is appreciated!
DISCLAIMER: The Boondocks is the property of Aaron McGruder and Sony Entertainment. I am claiming no ownership, or making any profit from this story.
Foreboding - Quiet Before the Storm
Huey Freeman didn't consider himself easy to scare. In fact, there was very little that truly caused him any measure of significant fear. One of those things was not death. The eldest Freeman boy had never really been afraid of death. In fact, he would say (rather nonchalantly) that if it was his time, then there was nothing he could do about it. He had come to terms with the idea over the years. After all, working as a lone domestic terrorist under constant threat of injury and death not only from his work, but from the antics of his family, had given Huey reason to come to grips with the concept at a very early age. He'd been surrounded by it. His parents, his friends, even some of his neighbors had all died around him. Some would say that sixteen was a young age to be ready to die, but Huey would disagree. He would call it "being prepared."
But he wasn't prepared for everything.
One thing he wasn't prepared for was his alarm going off nearly three hours late, nor the screeching of his brother when he stepped on one of his Playstation controls as he rushed around the room in a ritual mad dash to get ready for school before a beating followed his laziness.
"OW! GOD DAMN IT MUTHA FUCKA-" his brother shrieked, holding his foot and hopping up and down in place. Riley wasn't known for his spectacular balance, and the display ended up putting him flat on his face with a loud CRASH!
Huey shot upright in bed. "Riley, what the hell are you doin'?" he demanded, rubbing the sleep from his eyes.
From his prone position on the floor, where it appeared he wasn't bothering to get up, Riley simply replied, "Nigga why ain't chu ready fo' school?"
Huey's eyes traveled from his brother to the clock beside his bed. 7:48 am. "Damn it!" he growled and leaped out of bed. He was just glad he'd showered the night previous. He hastily threw on jeans and an over-sized black t-shirt, clean socks and his sneakers and dashed out the door, slinging his bag over his shoulder as he went. "Let's go, Riley!" he shouted up the stairway.
"Aight, aight, I'm comin'! Dayum," the other boy muttered under his breath and sprinted out the door. He slid into the passenger's seat of the car and pulled the door closed. Beside him, Huey had already started the car and had shifted the vehicle into reverse.
"You boys don't wreck that car!" a voice shouted, prompting Riley to roll down his window.
"C'mon Grandad, we ain't gon' wreck the damn car!" the teenager shouted back. Huey rolled his eyes and backed the car out of the driveway.
For being so close to winter, the weather was still relatively warm. Well really, the term "warm" was a gross understatement. It was hot. Hot enough, in fact, for Riley to continue wearing sleeveless shirts and for many of the students at Woodcrest High to wear shorts and other skin-revealing clothing. If the heat weren't so debilitating, Huey would have found it very strange indeed that the end of October was hotter than it had been all summer. And that wasn't the only odd thing that had happened since the summer. He'd only heard rumors and the odd late-night story on CNN, but word was getting around that disappearances were increasing. Sure, there were always kidnappings and murders, and the odd runaway, but it was never in a neighborhood like this. Places like this were so well-protected by police forces and neighborhood militias that horrible things never happened to the upper class white suburbanites who called this community their home.
It came as no surprise to Huey that the disappearances that were close to the neighborhood were covered up as much as possible. They didn't want anyone thinking this was a dangerous neighborhood, or that anything bad ever happened here.
They pulled into the school parking lot as the first bell rang. Warning bell... Huey thought as the brothers sprinted across the parking lot and into the school building. Huey made it to class in the nick of time. Riley, however, had vanished into the school basement to meet up with Cindy and terrorize the janitor. That was common, and it came as no surprise when later, Huey would see the janitor storming up and down the hallways, covered in red paint with a sign that read "NIGGA" plastered to his back.
Huey slid into his seat as the final bell rang, this time sparing the instructor sarcastic comments in favor of the blissful silence of his own thoughts.
That silence was interrupted rather quickly.
"Hey, how come you were almost late?" asked a girl beside him. She had large green eyes, poofy light-brown hair tied back into a single ponytail (or cotton ball, since it hardly looked like a pony's tale), light skin and a perky smile and only made Huey's scowl darken.
"Alarm didn't go off," he replied shortly and simultaneously pulled his book and notes from his bag. He stifled a yawn.
"It's not like you to sleep in," Jazmine mused, drawing stylized hearts on the front cover of her notebook with a red pen. He simply shrugged in response as the teacher made his way to the podium at the front of the room.
"Alright class, let's begin," the man said. He was scrawny and graying, probably in his mid to late fifties. Despite how much Huey liked to argue with the man, he was one of the few intelligent white people the boy had been taught by. Most of the others were ignorant, arrogant, and argumentative, but Mr. O'Brien was actually rather tolerable. The lecture began much as it did every morning by reading a passage from their workbook and then taking notes on various authors and literary pieces of interest. While he found distaste with the small number of black authors and artists, he had to admit that it wasn't all bad.
The hour wore on, but Huey was hardly paying attention. His focus was on the window. Something odd had caught his attention, like movement out of the corner of his eye. He stared, daring it to move again. Nothing happened, but when he turned his eyes back to the board at the front of the room, it happened again. A slight movement in his peripheral vision, like someone moving in and out of the window as quick as a flash. He looked again, and once again, nothing was there. He narrowed his eyes and turned away again.
The lights in the room flickered. Huey's eyes shot straight up to the ceiling. No one else seemed to notice. Why was it that when anything was ever out of place, he was the only one who ever paid attention? He'd been told repeatedly that if they'd listened to him, plenty of problems would be avoided. He couldn't fathom why still, no one listened.
The bell rang, and the class filed out of the room.
"What wrong, Huey?" Jazmine asked, walking in-stride with him towards their lockers.
"I thought I saw something outside the window," he replied evenly. In his situation, seeing things would merit a sense of fear. Not just out of viewing motion that could not be discerned, nor the flickering of the lights that no one seemed to notice, but because saying outright that one was seeing things would only earn a reputation of extreme paranoia or perhaps even so much as insanity. But Huey was different. Huey didn't lie, not even to protect someone's feelings.
That, and everyone already thought he was excessively paranoid.
"What do you mean?" the mulatto girl asked, pulling her locker door open and drawing out a textbook from its perfectly organized depths.
"Like something was moving but there was nothing there."
Jazmine paused and looked at him, one eyebrow arched. "Like a ghost or something?" she queried, nervousness dawning on her gentle features.
Huey shrugged. "I'm not sure, I never got a clear look at it. Coulda been a ghost." He paused and thought for a moment. "Coulda been students playing a prank. Maybe it was something else. Hard to say."
The girl's eyes widened visibly. "What do you mean something else?" she asked, swallowing hard. She hugged her book tightly to her chest. Huey had known that Jazmine was easy to scare, but the worry in her eyes was different. Something like concern, probably for his welfare. Or maybe it was simply fear.
"Dunno. Could be anything. We should get to class." He closed his locker door with a satisfying click! and the pair made their way to the next class of the morning. Up until lunch, Huey and Jazmine's schedules were identical. They shared Classical Literature first, followed by American History, Calculus, and Introduction to Physics. Then came lunch. Usually, Huey and Jazmine would sit outside, where she would eat her home-packed lunch and talk about everything she'd heard that day and he would munch on something green and crunchy (often celery) while reading the newspaper. Sometimes they were joined by Riley and Cindy, and when he was there, Caesar as well. After that, their schedules diverged until their last period. Jazmine had Latin, Journalism, and then Gym, where she was joined by Huey after his Creative Writing and Human Anatomy classes.
"Alright you worms, get ready to run!" yelled the burly woman (who could easily pass for a man) with a grimy whistle hanging out of her gaping maw. The students called her "jowls" because of the flaps of skin that hung from her jaw and neck. Personally, Huey thought she looked more like an over-sized frog. The students filed out the door and collectively moved towards the track that was situated on the north side of the building. It was bordered on its far side by a wall of trees that lead off into an undeveloped forested area. Why no one had bothered to claim the plot of land was the subject of scrutiny for Huey and Caesar when the mood took them to discuss the flaws and greed of the local corporate moguls.
But today, something about the woods gave the students chills. Most of them attributed the cold to autumn and winter finally showing their faces. Huey's own feeling of being watched he knew to be coming from something in the trees. The class set out on their jog around the track. Huey and Jazmine, as usual, took up the front. This was mostly because the rest of the students preferred to jog slower so they could chatter idly as they ran (or because they were desperately out of shape). Huey, on the other hand, preferred to be removed from the group, and Jazmine tagged along. She always did.
"Huey, do you feel like someone is watching us?" she asked as they rounded the starting line and completed their first lap. Huey's eyes settled on the woods for a moment.
"Yeah, I feel it," he replied.
"What do you think it is?"
He was silent for a breath, then finally said, "I'm not sure. Could just be paranoia created by the shadows between the trees."
"Or something else?" Jazmine said in a half-whisper. He shrugged, but didn't answer. The pair rounded their second and final lap and stopped. Jazmine panted to catch her breath. Huey simply stood, arms folded, staring at the trees.
In the several minutes it took for the rest of the class to finish their run, Huey was able to spot something dark shift between one of the trees. He narrowed his deep umber eyes, trying to discern the black mass from the rest of the shadows. It was rather large and human-esque in shape, but from what he could glimpse at, it probably wasn't human. He blinked and the movement ceased, and the shape melted back into its surroundings. He shook his head.
"Something wrong?" Jazmine asked, finally standing to her full measure after catching her breath.
His eyes shifted from the woods to Jazmine's face, then to the teacher, who was wheezing from the effort of walking from the school to the track. "I'll tell you after class," he replied.
She blinked once, arching an eyebrow, and shrugged. "Okay then."
The rest of the period was filled with a very poorly-constructed game of softball. The teams were horribly uneven, with Jazmine, Huey, and six other students making up one and the rest of the class making up the other. He didn't mind though, because he more than made up for their lack of numbers. Mid-way through the game, a brawl broke out between four white students over the fairness of the mock-umpire's call. With some difficulty, the teacher broke up the fight and escorted the students involved to the front office, leaving the rest of the class to goof off until it was time to return to the locker rooms.
Most of the students had started playing catch or lounging in the bleachers, prattling away idly about gossip and how much their teachers/homework/parents/chores/life sucked. Huey found a soft patch of grass out in the field and lay down on his back, hands behind his head, staring at the clouds overhead.
As usual, Jazmine joined him.
"Something on your mind?" the girl asked him. Huey glanced sideways at her and shifted his eyes back up to the sky. He and Jazmine were the same age, and had been friends since they were ten years old. While he'd filled out with broad shoulders and lean muscle, she was still rather scrawny. Huey could only guess that it was probably because of the genes she'd inherited from her white mother, and Jazmine hated it. Even by white-girl standards, the girl was nearly flat-chested and left something to be desired in the width of her hips. She'd also given up trying to tame her unruly hair. Huey didn't mind. She was fine the way she was.
"And what was it you were gonna tell me?" she added to her previous question.
"The woods are giving me a weird feeling," he said at last. She looked down at him.
"What do you mean?"
"Well, I think I saw something moving in the trees."
"Like a wild animal?"
"I dunno. Could be."
She chewed her lower lip nervously. "Huey, I'm scared."
"If it's a wild animal, then it's probably more afraid of us than we are of it."
"No, not that," she said, drawing her knees up to her chest. "I saw something on the news last night, about a girl that I went to elementary school with. She disappeared three weeks ago and hasn't been seen since. What if she's dead?"
He thought a moment. "I'm not gonna lie to you, Jazmine," he began.
"You never do."
"The likelihood of your friend coming home alive gets smaller and smaller with every day she stays missing. There are some cases where they show up a few years later, but compared to the thousands of unsolved cases of missing people, it's only a small fraction."
"I was afraid of that," she muttered. The pair lapsed into silence. A rogue softball flew over them and landed where Huey's head had been a moment previous. She could tell from the impression of his hair against the grass, where the ball was now. He had rolled a few inches away, narrowly missing the concussion that would have surely ensued. Glaring eyes turned themselves on the smug face who'd thrown the ball. "What the hell, Justin!" Jazmine demanded.
"My bad!" he shouted vaingloriously, laughing. "Wanna throw it back?"
"Not really..." Huey muttered under his breath, picked up the ball, and hurled it back. Jazmine giggled. The boy caught it, but the sudden flash of pain in his no-longer-smug eyes told Huey mission accomplished.
"Dude you didn't have to throw it so hard!" he moaned, but Huey had stopped listening. He was laying in the grass again, staring at the clouds. Jazmine scooted closer to him, staring at his face as he was lost in thought. She couldn't help but admire him. He was far more intelligent than anyone she'd ever met. And that wasn't an exaggeration. Of everyone she'd ever met, children and adults, Huey had more intellect than any of them combined. Hell, he was a prodigy.
Huey appeared to have notice her eyes concentrated on him, because he was looking back at her with one eyebrow arched. "Uh, Jazmine?"
She squeaked. "Sorry, I was spacing out!" she said hurriedly, covering her mouth with both hands. He looked away again, and she felt the breath in her chest ease again.
"C'mon, let's go," he said after several long minutes of silence. He got to his feet, offered his hand, and pulled her up beside him, then led the way to the building and to the locker rooms.
When he changed, Huey usually found a quiet corner and faced the wall. Being caught in the same room with a large group of rowdy, obnoxious white boys was annoying enough without having to strip near them. He pulled his jeans on, but as he prepared to tug his shirt over his afro, a towel hit the back of his head. He turned, eyes narrowed, to look at the culprit, who was, as he guessed, the same kid who'd attempted to give him a concussion with a softball.
"There a problem?" Justin Burns asked, his voice thick with smugness. His friends laughed.
"You tell me," Huey replied darkly, picking the towel up and tossing it into a nearby trash can. He pulled his shirt on and sat down to lace his shoes.
"Dude you just threw away my towel!" the boy said indignantly. "You want an ass kicking or something?" Huey simply shrugged without pausing, or even bothering to make eye contact. "Answer me, dickhead!"
A sigh escaped the black teenager and he got to his feet. He stood a full six inches over Justin Burns' head. "Look man, I don't have time for you or your stupid games. If you have a problem, tell me outright. Otherwise, back off."
Murmurs went around the group but Huey didn't care. He turned, picked up his bag, slung it over his shoulder, and headed for the door.
"Yeah that's right, walk away!" shouted Justin behind him, and he and his friends exchanged high-fives and fist pounds.
Huey stopped, turned his head to look back, and said, "Look, if you're looking for a fight, then fine. But don't try to use me to make yourself look better. You'll just end up lookin' like a fool. Again." And with that he disappeared through the door.
"Mother fucker," Justin said to himself as he made his way to his car later that evening after his detention was over. He'd been sentenced to two hours after school, first for his outburst in the locker room and then for arguing with the teacher after being caught. Had he not been yelled at, he would have challenged the Freeman kid to a fight, just to put the pussy in his place. That would get him away from the chick he'd been hitting on for months, right?
Justin was known for his jealousy. He coveted everything he didn't have. Cars, money, women, he could really have anything he wanted. His father was a major CEO for some white corporation that owned a good chunk of the country, and he gave his son everything he wanted. Justin had slept with many of the girls in Junior year, and even more in Senior year, just to brag to his other Junior-year friends that he had. When he'd noticed Jazmine Dubois, he had to try and have her, too. She was a virgin and a goodie-goodie, and she wasn't bad to look at. If he could take her he'd prove that he was just that much better than everyone else. But when he'd made a pass at her, she'd turned him down cold.
That didn't sit well with him at all. He tried again just days later, only to meet the same stonewall. He tried a third and final time, this time aggressively. Jazmine had been afraid, he'd grabbed her arm hard and threatened her. Justin didn't like rejection. It made him furious. But then she'd cried out, and suddenly there was Huey Freeman. Justin had never fought over a stupid girl and lost before. Every time he'd had to fight for the girl, her friend, boyfriend, admirer, whoever would step up to defend her "honor." Oftentimes, they backed down. Other times, Justin out-right beat them down. But Huey hadn't backed down or lost the fight. All he'd needed was one solid punch and the fight was over, and Justin was knocked out. His pride had suffered.
He wanted revenge.
It didn't matter right now though. He'd have to wait until tomorrow to try again. Plans for the next day were flying through his head. He'd kick the black kid's ass and the girl would swoon for him. Watching a man fight for her would make any bitch put out. He pulled his keys from his pocket and rifled through the mass of jumbled metal to try and find the key to his car. "Damn it I can't see shit out here when it's this dark!" he hissed under his breath to no one in particular. The sun had nearly vanished below the far western horizon, and visibility was low in the twilight. He grumbled as he fiddled with the keys again and again, trying to find the one that fit the lock.
Then by accident, he dropped the keys. Justin swore loudly and bent over to pick them up.
When he stood upright, he felt something. Warm breath tickling the back of his neck. He whirled around, fists up, but there was no one there. His heart rate increased. Was it always so eerie in this parking lot? He swallowed and turned again. A soft brush went up his back and he turned around again, but still no one was there. A gentle breeze brushed him.
"Man fuck this place, I gotta get home," he said out loud. The sound was almost soothing, but it did nothing to quell his pounding heart. He turned back to the car once again, frantically now in his endeavor to open the door and retreat to the safety of the car, at last locating the key to the door. "Finally," he said, relieved.
He opened the door, but instinct told him to turn around.
Several blocks away, sitting at the top of their hill beneath their favorite tree, Huey and Jazmine were talking. Or rather, Jazmine was asking questions and Huey was responding with short, two or three word answers.
"So you think you could be President one day?" she asked, looking up at the stars that had begun to shine through the rapidly-darkening sky.
"Probably," he replied.
Then a blood-curdling shriek stabbed the air, laced with terror and absolute pain. It echoed off the buildings and the trees and rang over the grass and hills. The two stopped abruptly, the scream causing them to look at one another and then rapidly around to discern the source.
Huey sat up straight. "What the hell was that?"