Chapter 4
Mark had been sitting on the same bench in the skate park for almost two hours, trying to ignore the icy feeling that was starting to seep into all of his limbs. It wouldn't be so bad if he had some music to listen to but the last time he had seen his ipod it was lying in about ten pieces on the kitchen floor in his mother's house and he would probably have to wait until the summer before some tourist was stupid enough to leave their belongings unattended in the park to replace it. He had his skateboard with him and had toyed with the idea of practicing a few tricks to warm himself up but there was too much snow and ice on the ground for the wheels to roll properly. As the light began to dim, fresh flakes of snow began to settle around him and he realised he would need to make a decision soon. If he just carried on sitting here he would get hypothermia or something. Getting up, he headed towards the park gates leaving a trail of footprints behind him.
When he had left the youth centre on Lincoln Avenue earlier that evening he hadn't been too worried. After all, a few of the guys had left at the same time and they had all headed down here, kidding around just as they had in the pool room and generally having fun. They all had their own reasons for wanting to leave the centre but none of them felt the need to share. The main difference between him and those other guys was that they all had homes to go to and, slowly but surely, they had all gone off in their separate directions. He knew their lives weren't perfect but right now he'd love to swap places with any one of them.
If he could choose a place to go, he knew he would choose to go to Lauren's house, but not to swap places with her. He knew he'd want her right there with him. For a few nights before he had gone back to Rachel's, he had stayed with Lauren, sneaking in after her mother went to work the nightshift at the hospital and climbing out of the window again before her mother got home. For a few hours they got to act as if it was their house and they were the only two people in the world that mattered. He had actually began to relax and forget about everything that had happened. Unfortunately, her mother was now back on the day shift and there was no way she would let Mark through the front door, let alone into her daughter's bedroom. According to Lauren's mother, Mark was most definitely a bad influence.
Someone had once tried to explain the difference between immorality and amorality to Mark. At the time he was just confused by it but the more he thought about it, the more he thought it described the difference between how people viewed the way he lived his life and the way he saw it through his own eyes. He never set out intending to cause trouble but sometimes shit just happened and he had to deal with it the best way he could. Life had never done him any favours so what did it matter if he took advantage of the few good things that came his way. He had tried to explain his outlook to Lauren once but he couldn't get the words right so she had just laughed, thinking that he'd smoked too much and gone off on a 'deep shit' vibe.
As he left the park by the tall wrought iron gates, he paused. Turning right would take him back in the direction of Lincoln avenue, while left would take him who knew where. Making up his mind, he turned left and adjusting the straps on his beat up old backpack before stuffing his hands into the front pocket of his hoodie. He realised that he was causing Rachel to worry, adding to her many layers of stress. He knew that she cared about him, wanted the best for him and would generally be there for him whenever he asked. He didn't want to hurt her or make her think that he was ungrateful for everything she had done but things were getting far too complicated and he didn't want to involve her anymore than she was already.
Last night he had only gone back to the centre because he was hungry and cold and couldn't think of anywhere else where he was guaranteed a decent meal and a warm bed with no hassle from anyone. Of course, Rachel had questioned him on his whereabouts but he hadn't answered. He knew it wasn't fair but she had left him alone eventually - she was too worried that if she pushed him too hard he would do another disappearing act. Looks like she was right, he thought as he turned into the alley between two empty warehouses.
It had been a couple of weeks since Jefferson had dropped by and, if he remembered rightly, the last time he heard his name being mentioned was when Rachel and Emily were swearing to stay away from men. He hadn't expected the detective to show up again but when he did, Mark made sure he didn't stick around long enough to be seen. He didn't know whether Jefferson was there on business or not, but he didn't want to find out. If it was business, he wouldn't be scared of pushing Mark too hard. In fact Mark knew he wouldn't stop pushing until he had heard everything Mark had to tell and then some. It was possible that he wasn't at the centre on police business and that he was there because Rachel had forgiven whatever bad deed he had done. However, if that was the case Mark didn't really want to end up sitting opposite him at the breakfast table. It would just be too weird.
He wondered whether Bobby Mercer had still been in the office with Rachel when Jefferson arrived. He didn't really know Bobby. If anything, the man was a mystery to him, but he was guessing that Bobby and Detective Jefferson would not be fans of each other. In fact, he couldn't imagine any cop being a fan of the Michigan Mauler. On the one hand, Bobby seemed like on ok guy. He had bought Mark a drink for no apparent reason and when he came over to the centre that afternoon, it was obvious that he was dropping off some donations. On the other hand, he was crazy. Mark knew that Rachel had been asking some questions about the Mercer family, he had also asked some questions of his own, and she thought that the stories she heard were too wild to be true. He didn't like to point out to her that the versions she received were watered down compared to what he heard. His thoughts wandered back to the breakfast table at the centre again and he wondered what would be worse - sitting opposite Chris Jefferson or sitting opposite Bobby Mercer?
Not that it really mattered- it wasn't as if he was going to be there for breakfast anyway, he thought as he climbed up the metal staircase attached to the side of one of the buildings. When he reached the broken window, it was just big enough for him to climb in. The building smelled of damp and the scratching noises coming from the corner indicated that it was already inhabited by at least a few rats but at least it was sheltered. He was sure that he would be able to find a quiet corner of the building to get a few hours sleep before he had to start worrying about what he was going to do tomorrow.