Ok...I jumped on the bandwagon. This is going to be fun to write and to get my writing juices flowing again. Coraline and all related characters...blah, blah, blah....don't own....blah, blah.
A twist of the wrench here, a new bike chain there and a dab of oil to go should be just about do it and...done. He stepped back to admire his improved bike. It had taken a lot of time and effort, but his bike was nearly completed. He had spent weeks on his breaks and wheels alone, canabalizing an old trucks wheel parts and placing them on his bike. He had been given his grandfathers old bike nearly six months ago and the first thing he did with it was take it apart and start rebuilding it into his own image. Slowly, but surely the bike was coming together.
"Wybourne! Come inside and get your breakfast!" his grandmother called out to him. He silently obeyed his grandmother and walked toward the house. Wyborn Lovat, preferring 'Wybie', was....an unusual child, to say the least. He always wore the same fading black water-prof trench coat that had reflective strips sewed onto them, jeans that where always rolled up too high at uneven lengths and black gloves with rubber skeleton hand bones on top. His shoes were well worn and falling apart, which was fine with him, as it made it all the easier to climb up things without having to deal with stiff soles. His posture wasn't the best, as he slouched all the time, mostly due to the simple fact that he was a hunchback. Not Quasimodo hunchback...but just enough to have people notice it, making him nervous and shy, and when he got nervous, he stuttered...a lot...even with loved ones he had the stutter.
He loved to run around exploring every last inch of everything, learning about how things worked and how he could make it better. He would spend every free moment either running around the woods, finding the local wildlife and studying it or tinkering with old abandoned junk ripping it apart to see what it looked like on the inside. Because of his passions, he really didn't have many friends, in fact, he didn't have any friends. Sure every now and again he would try to strike up a conversation with the kids at school or even grownups, (stuttering all the while) but the kid's or grownup's replies always felt forced, and they themselves acted uncomfortable. That was ok to Wybie though, he always had his grandma to talk to, at least that's what he told himself.
As he causally walked up to the house, his grandmother who was still in her nightgown and robe, stood in the doorway with her hands on her hips and a slight scowl on her face.
"Honestly Wyborn," she sighed out, "every mornin' you're out there fixin' up that once perfectly good bike of yours or running around before dawn and every mornin' I about have a heart-attack from the noise you make or the empty bed I find...."
"Sorry grandma," he said walking past her, "I'll try to be more quiet."
"Lord knows that one of these days," she continued on, "that the day you really have been kidnaped, I won't do a thing about it because I'll be assumin' you're out running around getting dirty and catching things to put in your pockets, and what then Wyborn, what then?"
Wybie didn't answer his grandma, as this conversation took place every morning, with slight variations to the wording. His grandma shuffled toward the counter top and continued muttering to herself on how one day he was going to break his neck in the woods and he would be dead by the time she noticed that he was gone and other horrible things that were dramatic. She placed his breakfast in front of him which was: bacon and eggs, hash browns, toast, orange juice and chocolate milk. He thanked his grandma and picked up his fork and started to poke at the eggs and hash browns as his grandma rounded the table and sat opposite of him and picked up her tea and stated to sip at it while reading the morning paper.
"Did you finish your homework last night Wyborn?"
"Yes." he said with bits of egg flying out of his mouth.
"Don't talk with your mouth full Wyborn." she said without looking up from the paper. He grunted in reply. Swallowing the food in his mouth, he cleared his throat and asked:
"S-So, what are you going to d-do today, grandma?" he asked, hoping she was going out and he would have the house to himself. She glanced up from her newspaper at him, then looked back down at the paper and said:
"I might go into town if the weather is favorable, but the way my bones feel, it's going to rain."
Wybie sighed, slightly disappointed that he wouldn't have the house to himself, he rarely did, with his grandma retired and all.
"And you, Wyborn," she said lowering the paper and looking at him with a bit of hope on her face, "are you goin' to go to a friends house after school or..."
"N-No," he said very quickly, "I mi-might go to the library and...p-possibly stay after school and do extra h-homework...j-just g-get a h-h-head of class..." he quickly shoved food into his mouth and looked away.
"Hon...there's only two weeks of school left; you're already gettin' strait As." she said lovingly lowering the newspaper; she could tell she had upset him as his stutter became more pronounced. He slightly nodded his head while continuing to chew his food. After several tense minutes of quiet paper rustling and utensil clanking, Wybie finally broke the silence.
"I talked to Mr. Hood a couple of days ago grandma," he said nervously, scratching the top of the table.
"And," she said looking at him, half knowing what he was going to say. Her looking at him over the newspaper made him all the more nervous and his stutter returned.
"W-W-Well, uh, he s-said...th-that he had a...a spare scooter m-motor...and...w-well," his nerve gave out and he looked away and took another bite of food. She smiled slightly.
"Alright Wyborn," she said trying her best to sound annoyed but failed, "if he says you can have it, then yes, you can have it." Wybie's eyes darted back at his grandmas face with total shock in them, quickly replaced with excitement.
"Y-You really mean it, grandma?" he asked, his is crooked smile spreading across his face.
"Yes Wyborn," she said sighing while turning a page of the newspaper, "as long as you keep it out of the house." He grinned all the more and quickly finished his breakfast, then hurried up to his room to get ready for school. She couldn't help but to chuckle at this. She knew what he wanted to do with the motor, and in all good graces she was against it, but she knew what would make him happy. But then her smile faded, knowing that it would only temporarily fix his loneliness. She got up and started to clean up the dishes and put them in the sink to handwash them later. She then shuffled into the living room and put on her slippers and shawl then found her purse and was in the middle of digging out her car keys when Wybie was running (to her, it sounded like falling) down the stairs. He had changed out of his coat, jeans and old shoes and into his school uniform.
The school uniforms were grey coats with grey pants and white shirts, boring as nothing else. His uniform was the only thing that he owned that didn't have a grease stain or a rip in them, he only wore it to school and even if he didn't have to, he wouldn't ware them at all. He always contemplated on using them as grease rags once he was out of school. His grandma shuffled over to him, fixing his collar and straitening his jacket. She went to adjust his hair but any attempts to do so would run the risk of having her hand entangled within.
"Wyborn," she sighed, "you really need to brush your hair."
"I do," he said with a smirk, "but the brush gets sucked in. Besides, my hair is naturally messy." She sighed and shook her head.
"Come on then," she sighed while turning towards the door, "if we don't hurry, you'll be late for school."
"Don't worry grandma," he pipped up, "once my bike is finished, you won't have to take me to school anymore."
"Then how will I know you get there on time," she said climbing into the car, "or that you're not playin' hookie."
"Simple," he said smirking again, "you wont." Wybie's grandmother shook her head again and after several attempts to pull out of the driveway with out hitting anything, drove down the dirt road that connected with the main road to town.
Wee....short, crappy chapter! Sorry for any misspellings, I'm lazy and stupid. If you haven't guessed, this takes several weeks/months before the events of the movie, and things should pick up in the next chapter...hopefully.
Thanks for reading!