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Sunset Ave.

Chapter Eleven

Body Bag

Joelle was a large woman, who wore an apron over a yellow summer dress. She kept her hair in a bun on top of her head, her eyes small and a gap between her two front teeth. Percy saw the gap of their new house maid often, because all the black woman seemed to do was smile. Even when Henry snapped at her yesterday morn' to hurry up and make his coffee, she just chuckled and went back to buttering the toast.

Percy found this very strange, because it was 1939 and no house slave ever ignored a demand from their masters. But, Percy also found himself not caring. Why should he? With a curl of his lip, he pushed his plate away. He didn't care about anything anymore. 'Now, now, Meesta We'more!' Joelle said, placing a hand on her large hip and looking at him in mock disapproval, the smile still playing on her lips. 'You got to eet your food and be big strong man!' Percy pushed away from the table with so much force that his chair clattered onto the stone floor loudly. Joelle eyed him in slight surprise. 'Meesta-'

'Leave me alone,' he hissed, turning and stalking out the room. Joelle blinked, before glancing at Irene who was hovering in the corner.

'Mees?' she asked. Irene sighed.

'Percy has been a little…' she hesitated, trying to find the right word. 'Troubled, lately. We think it's best if we just leave him and let him figure things out on his own.'

'In my country, you get big steek. They listen then.'

'We only use slippers as punishment,' Irene said, bristled. 'Percy has done nothing wrong.'

'He do not eet food?' Joelle said, gesturing to plate. 'In my country, we have not many foo-'

'We're not in your country!' Irene shrieked, her words bouncing off the stone walls. Her fists were clenched, chest rising and falling heavily. 'We are not in your country and you will do as I tell you. You work for me. Do you understand?' The two women stared at each other from across the kitchen table, before Joelle finally nodded her head. Wiping her hands on the front of her apron, she turned her back and moved over to the sink. Irene exhaled heavily, before turning and walking towards the study.

--

Percy sat on his usual pew at the back, hands clasped together on his lap. It seemed so long since he'd last been in Sunday school. He didn't know why he came back here. Maybe he thought things would be the same and he could continue on as if William Wharton had never sauntered into his life that summer's day. Apparently, that wasn't the case. Janey leaned forward, whispering to her two friends and they glanced back at him, eyes wide. He noticed one of the girls cross herself and he glanced away, flushed.

Even Mr Darkfield was acting strange. He'd been giving Percy odd looks all morning and when Percy raised his hand to answer a question, he got ignored.

Apparently, in small towns such as this, news travelled fast. He was thankful when they were finally allowed to leave. Percy got up, shifting out from the pews and heading towards the exit. Suddenly, someone shoved past him and he stumbled forward. Janey stalked past, nose in the air as if she'd encountered a bad smell.

Percy sighed heavily, crossing the grass and heading down the road at a slow pace, not wanting to face his parent's questioning looks. He'd been getting them for the past week, since the night that Billy… Not that he cared. He was so lost in his thoughts that he couldn't here the approaching footsteps.

A shove to the back suddenly sent him sprawling onto the floor, palms grazing on the concrete. He rolled onto his back to see Lewis standing over him, Colin and Nicholas flanking him. Percy's eyes narrowed in a glare. 'What do you want?' he demanded.

'We wanted to come see the queer,' Lewis smirked, eyes alive with humour. 'You know what my daddy been saying? He be saying that you were with that Wharton kid. That you was doing stuff that only sinners do.'

'I was not,' Percy snapped, feeling heat flood his face.

'You calling my daddy a liar, Wetmore? He's the Sherriff. He hears things. The other morn, he heard from those negroes that you've been fucking that Wharton.' He leaned forward, hands resting on his knees as his two goons sniggered at his side.

'I wasn't! They were lying,' Percy said defensively. Lewis chuckled.

'You know what I think? I thinks you pining for the Wharton kid, cause he done a runner.' Percy's heart skipped a beat, because he hadn't known this. Lewis grinned triumphantly at Percy's lack of words. 'Ah, that's what I thought, fag.'

Percy fist came up, clouting Lewis on the side of his head. Lewis blinked in surprise, straightening up before glaring down at Percy. 'You're goan regret that,' he spat, before coming forward.

--

When Percy got home, he moved into the bathroom, inspecting the graze on his jaw and wiping that the blood making a steady trip out the corner of his mouth. His sniffed angrily, spat in the sink and turned the tap on.

After cleaning himself up, he ate dinner, did his homework on reading parts of the Bible aloud to his mother, washed and went to bed. Life fell into the same cycle, a routine he didn't even try and break out of.

There really was no point anymore.

Summer drew to an end, bringing cool September mornings and a little bit of rain. Percy was heading back to school, half thankful that he wouldn't have to go to Sunday school until next year, yet half hoping life would be quieter here; that he could blend into the background and not be bothered again. As he walked through the gates, his eyes scanned the groups of children racing about, screaming, yelling, laughing, and he searched for the familiar face before he realized what he was doing.

When he did, he scowled and dropped his eyes to look at the floor. Billy wouldn't be here. He didn't even go to this school, if he went to school at all. Or Percy would have noticed him a lot sooner.

Percy walked into the school, moving into the cloakroom. He shrugged out of his coat, before frowning and peering at his name tag. Someone had written QUEER across it. He blinked back tears, swallowed and ripped the sticker off. Hanging up his coat, Percy moved into the classroom.

It smelt musty and unused, the windows letting in sunlight, dust particles swirling in the air. He sat down, fingers running across the etched wood of his desk. He suddenly remembered what the Governor had told him. If you concentrate at school and go to Sunday school, then you will be come great. That's what he was going to do. Percy didn't need Wharton. He didn't need anyone. He was going to become great and have any job in the State, just like his uncle had said.

--

The day was sluggish and tiring and even though no one had said anything to Percy, it wasn't as if they'd all been gathering at his side to hear the story of his summer either. Percy trekked home, kicking his shoes off in the hallway for Joelle to deal with and moving into the kitchen.

Joelle was putting plates on the table, but Irene called him into the front room. He sat down on the sofa, Irene sat opposite him and she looked him over for a moment. 'Percy, darlin',' she said, slowly and already, Percy knew he didn't want to hear what she was about to say. 'Darlin',' she said again. 'Are you happy?'

Percy blinked. 'I'm fine,' he told her. Irene glanced down.

'You know, you can tell me if you and that Wharton boy-'

'I'm fine,' he snapped, cheeks flushing at the mere mention. 'There was nothing, I told you!'

'It's just, you've been so… quiet lately. I don't want you to be depressed over what's happened.'

'I ain't depressed,' Percy said, getting to his feet. 'I'm fine! I said I'm fine! I don't need people like you stickin' your nose in. Just leave it.' Irene raised an eyebrow at the outburst, opening her mouth to reply, but the front door was flung open.

Henry stumbled in; his hair was falling over his forehead, face red and he moved into the doorway of the front room. It looked like he'd been running. 'I just been t' see Sherriff Billets,' he said, referring to Lewis's father and trying to catch his breath for a moment. 'They found a body in the creek. Kenny Wharton's been arrested.'

'Oh my,' Irene gasped, getting to her feet and placing a hand over her mouth. 'Did the Sherriff say who it was?' Henry hesitated, glancing at Percy whose chest suddenly felt very tight. He took a step back. It couldn't be, could it? Would Kenny Wharton kill his own…?

'I'm sorry, Percy,' Henry said, voice low. 'But, it's Billy.'