My heart started racing, and suddenly it felt as if all my senses heightened. I wasn't sure what I was feeling. Intrigue, fright, excitement and wonder filled my stomach all at once. Vern's words were so effective, even Gordie tore his eyes away from his magazine, and sat up, alert. All four of us leaned in, on the edge of our seats as Vern explained what he meant.

He had been under his houses porch, digging up pennies that he himself had buried. Unfortunately, his mother had thrown away the map, so poor Vern had been digging for nine months! Nine months man. But that wasn't the point, Vern told us how he overheard his brother Billy and his friend Charlie Hogan talking about how they found Ray Brower's body near the train tracks by the Back Harlow Road. But Billy didn't want to call the cops, saying how the police would know he and Charlie had boosted a car the day before. In my opinion, they were both shit heads and idiots. But if it wasn't for them, we would've never known about Ray Brower's body.

All five of us had followed the story of Ray Brower real closely, mostly because he was our age, and it's not everyday you here about a dead kid between the ages of ten to fifteen.

"I know the Back Harlow Road." Teddy piped up after Vern was done speaking. "It comes to a dead end by the river. The train tracks are right there!" He sat up straighter, looking proud. "Me and my Dad used to fish for Cossies out there all the time."

I sneered. "My Dad and I, Duchamp." I corrected his grammar, smirking as his prideful stance swooped back down. I caught Gordie's eye, who just laughed. Correcting Teddy's grammar was one of the many hobbies I treasured daily.

"Fuck you Chambers." Teddy shot back, giving me a poisonous glare through his glasses.

I gave him the finger. "Back at'cha kid." This insult of course, caused him to jump up, but Chris calmed him down, quickly changing the subject back to Ray Brower's body. The boys just wanted to find the body for fame. Myself however, wanted to see it for some unknown reason. At that time I wasn't so sure, but some yearning hunger to see the body had started building in my chest.

Then we had another problem to face; how the hell were we going to tell our parents. Of course Gordie, who had the brains knew exactly what to do. I swear, the kid seemed like a walking talking textbook on "How To Survive Life."

"We'll all tell our folks we're tenting out in your back field," he began, pointing at Vern. "You tell your folks you're sleeping over at Teddy's." A small smile spread across his lips. "Then we say we're goin' over to the drag races the next day. We're rock solid 'til dinner tomorrow night."

Chris beamed at him, the cigarette between his fingers. "Man that's a plan and a half," he congratulated and the two shared some skin. Now when I say sharing skin, I mean the two just brushed the palms of their opposite hands twice. It's sort of like a simple secret handshake.

We all agreed to meet up at the train tracks where we began our walk. But first, we only had about two hours to get ready. Once Chris and I walked up to the side of our house, we hesitated. "Mom better be home." I started climbing up through the bedroom window and jumped. Once Chris and I were both in his ratty tatty room, we paused to look at each other again. "If Mom isn't home, you're telling Dad." I said, poking my brother's shoulder. Fear started building up in my chest, it always did every time I stepped foot into the building we called home. It really sucked you know, us two being afraid of home because out parents were shit.

"Nah-uh," he said in disgust, pushing me towards the hallway. "Not if he's drunk, which is forever." He pushed me again. "Come on," he begged, "Dad listens to you."

I sighed, it was true. Dad did listen to me more than Chris, he's always favored me over him. Which is something Chris had always been jealous about. "Fine," I began, "but if he lashes out, I'm runnin', ya dig?"

He nodded, bright green eyes stern. "Yeah."

Once I had silently padded down the staircase which entered the living room. I stopped, my breath hitched at the sight of Dad sitting in his old beat up chair, bottle in hand, drinking his life away. Swallowing my nerves, I maneuvered to his side, gently, carefully, hesitantly, placing a hand on his shoulder. "What is it?" his gruff voice growled.

To be honest, it took me a moment to find my voice. "Hi Daddy," I choked in my sweetest voice possible. "Can Chris and I camp out in Vern's backyard, then go over to the drag races tomorrow?"

At first he didn't respond, and I thought he hadn't even heard me. He'd get so drunk, sometimes his mind wasn't even present. "What?" he snapped, and my stomach jumped to my chest. "That it?" he asked again.

I smiled. "Yes Daddy. Please Daddy?" I pleaded, warily prying the bear bottle away from his hands, which he had been staring at for far too long. "Daddy?" I asked again.

The same as last time, I thought he had lost his mind.

Suddenly the bottle was grabbed from my hand and thrown across the room, it shattered. My father stood, breathing hard. Too stunned to move, I stood frozen as he leaned over to painfully grip my shoulders. His breath stunk of beer, dark eyes glassy. "And why should I let my girl hang out with a bunch of dicks," he hissed, spitting on my face, and I flinched, his overgrown fingernails digging through the fabric of my shirt. "You'd get ra—"

"Stop!" Chris sprinted down the stairs, almost running right into me as he reached out to pry Dad's hands off. "Let go of her, she's hurtin'!" He finally let me go, and I sagged in relief only to cringe away when Dad's fingers wound a tight grip around my brother's wrists.

Chris trembled as he leaned forward, noses almost touching. "Why don't you mind your own beeswax Son?" he snarled, hand raised and my brother recoiled.

For a second, I thought he would get slapped, but just then the front door opened, revealing a woman I call Mom. She was like an older female version of Chris, looks, personality, practically all of it. But the one thing she didn't have, was his tenderness.

She was never tender with us.

"What the hell is goin' on here?" she asked, her voice slightly slurred. After work, she and a couple of friends would drive over to a small bar nearby, and drink. She didn't drink as much as Dad, but still, drinking is drinking. Leaves your head defenseless, no kind of wall to guard your thoughts. Plus, just the idea of a women going out to drink was absurd. Yet again, my family was shit.

At the sound of her voice, Dad immediately let go of Chris's wrists, standing as straight as possible. "Our kids," he growled, violently pointing our way with a thick dirtied finger. "They want to go camp out at Vern's then go to..." He stopped, completely forgetting what I had previously told him.

"To the drag races," I finished fervently, casting a nervous glance towards my father, who spat on the floor.

"Shut up kid," he snapped.

My mother, standing near the door looked as if she wasn't sure to run out of the building, or throw her authority on us. Her authority won. "Now Rob," she began, taking a few cautious steps forward. "It's just for two days, even though these kids aren't mature enough, they'll survive."

I sneered at her words. Hell we were mature enough. Even more mature than you two! I mentally cried, but kept my mouth shut. If opened, I might have just cursed them to hell.

"Go, get out of my sight," my mother snapped. Those words were all it took for Chris and I to bound up the stairs.

Once we reached my bedroom, we stopped to take a breather. "Jesus Christ, he was gonna slap you!" I protested as Chris slumped down on my bed. "He's never laid a figure on us before."

My brother laid down on his back. "I know," he said, "but Dad won't hesitate if Mom's not around." Nodding, I slumped down beside him. The two of us just lay there, trying to wrap our mind across what to do until Chris said, "We gotta pack, let's role." He hauled himself up, striding towards his room, a spring in his step, guaranteed he was looking forward to our little trip.

It took about seven minutes to pack up my bed roll, and a canteen of water. Looking atop my dresser, I found four quarters randomly scattered about. They were soon stuffed in my jean's pocket. At first I thought about food, then realized my family couldn't afford any food being stolen. We were somewhat lower middle class, but with my parents drinking and all, food was scares.

"Ya ready?" Chris's head popped around the door frame, seemingly impatient.

I nodded. "Can't wait to get outta this hell hole."

Not wanting to walk the whole ways, Chris managed to snag a truck hauling some barrels of hay. The driver reluctantly agreed to allow us a ride since he too, was driving out of town. Before we knew it, my brother and I were riding on the back of a truck, sitting on top of the haystacks.

About five minutes later, I spotted Lachance walking along the sidewalks, wearing some Yankees ball cap. "Hey look," I said, nudging my brother's side. "Gordie."

"Hey Chris, Tess." Gordie greeted us, and my stomach did a little flip.

We jumped off the truck, giving our thanks before the truck drove off. "Sure thing. No problem kids," the driver said and swerved back onto the streets.

"Gordo!" Chris energetically greeted and slung his arm around his best friend's shoulder. I was soon walking behind them, feeling like the third wheel. So I jogged around, at least wanting to represent the captain leading my army into battle.

"Hey man." Gordie said, though his voice was quieter, and he sounded almost sad.

"Dude, you okay?" I asked him, turning to walk backwards, watching his reaction. But he just shrugged. I sighed, that was all I was getting out of the boy. "Okay." I said, turning back to face forwards.

A quiet pause followed, until Chris broke the silence. "You wanna see something?"

"Sure, what is it?" Gordie asked, obviously occupied, albeit, he snapped out of it. "What?"

Chris picked up his pace, running by me. "Come on man," he shouted and we followed. I for once not knowing what he was talking about. Gordie and I ran after him, both of us yelling out questions.

We rounded a corner, right behind a diner. 'What the hell have you been up to?" I asked, not caring how impatient my tone was.

But Chris didn't respond. Instead, he forced a hand into his bedroll, pulling out—Dad's gun holy shit, I thought. But my brother and Gordie were too excited to even care about the consequences. "You wanna be the Lone Ranger, or the Cisco Kid?" Chris asked, handing the gun over to Gordie, who was staring at it in wonder.

"Walkin' talkin' Jesus," he breathed out. "Where'd you get this?"

Chris opened his mouth, about to respond. But I beat him to it. "It's Dad's, a 45." I explained furiously and grabbed my idiot of a brother's shirt, pulling him close. "What was goin' on in that thick head of yours?" I hissed, shaking him a bit.

"Calm down sis," he said, though I didn't. "It's in case of a wild animal."

"What were you thinking?" I hissed again, ignoring his excuse. "Hawkin' from Dad, boy we're dead as a door nail and there is no excuse for—"

But Gordie cut me off. "Got any shells for this?" he asked, making shooting sounds, aiming at a garbage can.

My brother nodded, slipping out of my hold, leaving me fuming. "Yeah," he replied. "Took all that was left in the box."

I smacked a face palm. "Oh brother."

He just ignored my outburst, still watching Gordie. "My dad'll think he used it himself, shooting at beer cans while he was drunk."

No he won't...I mentally added, fear building up again. My father was stupid, not that stupid though. That was Vern, but he wasn't that bad. Clueless and good for a laugh though. But I bet that was because he lived with a decent family.

"Is it loaded?" Gordie asked again, cocking the gun.

Chris shook his head. "Hell no! What do ya think I am?"

BANG!

"JESUS," and we ran.

Chris was laughing, running into a garbage can as he taunted, "Gordie did it! Gordie Lachance is shooting up Castle Rock!"

"Shut up! You want the whole town knowin'?" I shouted, breathless as we rounded a corner, coming to a walk.

But Chris kept on taunting. "Oh you should've seen your face. Damn that was cool." He did a small jump, pumping his fist. "Damn that was fine."

But Gordie would have non of it. "You knew it was loaded you wet end!" His voice rose an octave. "That Tupper babe saw me!"

"Shit Gordie." Chris objected, "she thought it was firecrackers."

"I don't care, that was a mean trick Chris—"

"Hey Gordie." Chris grabbed his arm, serious. My breath caught. "I didn't know it was loaded. Honest."

Lachance was still skeptical, scowling. "You swear?"

My brother nodded. "Yeah, I swear."

"On your mother's name? Even if she goes to hell—"

"Gordie." I interrupted, putting a hand on his shoulder, trying my best to sooth him, and myself. "He didn't know, I would've known if that was a trick. He tells me everything." Stroking my thumb over his shoulder I added, "I swear, he didn't know."

After a few seconds, he tore his gaze away from me, confirming one more time. "Pinky swear?"

Chris sighed, rolling his eyes, this was getting ridiculous. "Pinky swear," he echoed, crossing his heart and kissing his finger. It was one of those moments where he created peace. I knew that's all he hoped for in life, peace. Wish I could say the same, but it wasn't true. There were times where I thought leaving situations to themselves or toughing it out was best.

Glad that the tension was gone, I playfully reached up to snatch Gordie's cap, but he slapped my hand away. "Sorry," I quickly apologized, taken aback. We kept on walking as I wondered why the cap was so important.

Walking a few more steps as we passed Irby's Billiard Hall, ole' Ace and my dear brother Eyeball walked out the door. "Hey girls!" Eyeball taunted. "Where ya goin'?"

I whirled around, all thoughts of Gordie's cap forgotten as I glared, hoping to seer holes in my dear brother's forehead. "We don't need your shit Eyeball! Go back to wherever the fuck you came from and stay in that hell." My tone was lowered, a threat, a warning. We faced off, dark green eyes staring back at one another. It was disturbing knowing how much I looked like him, you know. Chris set a soothing hand on my arm, but I shrugged him off.

"Hey come on man! My brother gave me that!"

Our concentration broke as a cry came from Gordie.

Ace had taken the Yankee's cap, holding it above his head as poor Lachance scrambled to grab it. That's why it's so important. I thought back to April. Denny. The cap was the last bit of his essence.

"You're a real asshole you know that?" Chris warned, taking a step forwards. I could tell he was trying hard not to loose it. Yet again, it was hard not to around Ace's gang at all.

Ace sneered, his blonde hair blown by the wind as he gave shit-head the Yankee's cap. "Your brother's not very polite, Eyeball." He took a step forward. "Take that back."

I wasn't sure what was said next, my concentration was on Eyeball. But before I knew it, my twin was on the ground, cussing out as Ace straddled him, his cigarette close to burning his face.

Then Ace froze, because I had him in a headlock. The kind of headlock where you snap the opponent's neck. "Let. Him. Go." I hissed close to his ear, "or I swear to god you'll drop dead." This was highly unusual for a girl to do, but when you've got two brothers and one who's willing to look out for ya, you tend to learn and pick up on a lot of defense moves.

After a Pregnant pause, Chris's voice from below was heard. "Don't Tess, come on, let go."

"What?" I asked, surprised, peering over Ace's shoulder to see Chris grimacing in pain.

"I take it back," he said, albeit reluctant. "I take it back." Remember, peace, that's all he cared for.

Blondie let him go, taking a breath of pride, filled with smoke. "Now I feel a whole lot better about this. What about you?" We didn't say a word, though I spat on the ground in disgust. "Good." Ace grinned, satisfied. He and Eyeball walked off.

"See'ya later girls." Eyeball crowed over his shoulder. We ignored his taunt, staring after him.

Someone jerked my elbow. "Come on, just forget 'em." Chris said, pulling my arm impatiently. Reluctantly, I nodded, tearing my eyes away from Denny's cap as we both caught up to Gordie.

Since the tension had increased again, we playfully pushed and shoved each other, walking towards our destination. It wasn't until we passed the welcoming gate to Castle Rock did I gently wrap my fingers around Lachance's wrist. He stopped, light brown eyes questioning. "I promise, you," I whispered, ignoring my brothers impatient call. "You're getting that Yankee's cap back."

He blinked. "Really, ya mean it?"

A smirk formed across my lips. "I swear."

You're welcome for the long chapter. Hope you enjoyed this one.

Trust me, writing Ace's scene was sickening, I hate that guy so much! Anyone else?