Chapter 7: Summer Days part 1; Sheer Luck Hatred
It was a Monday afternoon, summer was only a week most in, and for the first time Night Stripe Inkwell had ever heard his parents yelled at one another, and far from a humor attitude matter, as they always would. How it started, he couldn't really blame them, the voice that was heard from a miss called message, and the voice that echoed from it, somehow, always got to his father.
He sat in his room, hearing his parents through the thin door, muffling enough that it didn't spook him if one of his parents' voices rose, far higher than before, not long calming down. Night Stripe only waited it out, moving from spot to spot of his room. From his bed he relaxed; once he heard his mother yelled, he moved the closet, rumpling through it, for anything to keep his mind of them. Once he heard his father this time, he paced, covering his ears, hoping to block them out.
Yet, it was something he never worked, but he would always try. Sitting at his desk, for a second in thought, before kicking his legs to push the rolling chair back and forth, letting the sound of rubber and carpet be the sound to focus on. Still, it did little help, as he still heard his parents' voices, softer than before, but easy to hear.
"I don't want that woman, even a foot of her in this house."
"Jaded, even if I asked her not to, she's going to come here anyway . . . thinking those unsettling things. Please, don't make this worst."
"What about our son, are you okay with her being near him? I'm sure we asked him about this . . ."
"Honey, no, leave him out of this . . ."
"I know she won't. The way she's treats him, I just want to . . ."
"Jaded, now stop that!"
Silent filled the air for a moment, in a panic, Night Stripe got up from his seat and moved to the door, hand on the doorknob, about to turn it and check on them, before he finally heard his mother speak again.
"Jaded, please understand, for even how she acts, she's still my mother and wants to help out. I don't want her here, but I also need her. You'll be out of town, Night Stripe won't have anyone . . . not even me to be around to lean on, because of the rules she'll have the moment she walks in."
"I don't like it."
"Neither do I, but she's promising to help."
"Only if we treat her like a queen and somehow put Night Stripe in a . . ."
"Another word about that, don't you dare. I am very well aware of what my mother can do. As she already done for us so far, we have to let this slide just this once; until you get back from your business trip. And don't even try to make a call out of it; we don't have the finance to cover the damage it will cause."
"She'll never let him go near you or the baby once the weeks are up."
"Let me handle that."
"What about Night Stripe?"
"I'll call one his friends from school. Shooting Star will likely to pick up first. So I'll ask him to watch him."
"And you alone, here, with that she-demon."
"Jaded . . . we're out of options."
"I-I know, I just don't want to come to terms of it all."
Night Stripe leaned, head first against the door, with a dull, silent thud, unsure of being anger or upset.
To anything he may well do in some thinking of it, in all he could do was agree with his parents on the matter; they would know later it was killing him on the inside, but, for his mother and baby's health, and to set some ease for his father, he won't fight on this, recalling the bills when he came home, the few days prior on Thursday, after getting back from his trash littler grab job, counting his blessings for how Parasol did to help him out for this, to make some pocket money.
Good turning bad so quickly when opening the mailbox and finding bills, marked overdue, one even saying that the water was in threat of being cut off.
He could have hided them, have a peaceful dinner with his family, enjoy the moment of the summer chilled night for a film or two, before going to bed, pretending everything was okay, but he didn't. He could never just lie to his parents like that, not now or ever to them, he couldn't even if he tried and spare them this, yet instead, he waited, scared so, for one of them to come home, and dreadfully, it was mother who did, and after that, everything just went into a blur of mess up til now.
Before Night Stripe knew it, through all the blurred mess, he and father found themselves in front of Shooting Star's house of a two story calm painted and settling home, on the far end of the suburb's drive lane. It was a nice view of most of the corner end of Canterlot City, a drive it was to get, but the moment, as Night Stripe father put it, the she-demon came, they bolted quickly and quietly as they could.
His father telling him to sneak out once, mother and grandma were in the kitchen, not long later, his father was with him, and gone they went. Leading to this; of now with them in dejected silence, both thought, would never happen.
Jaded Ember didn't say a word, as he ranged the door bell.
It wasn't long before Shooting Star open the door, greeting them warmly, having them come.
"The guestroom's all set for you, buddy, you can go set up." Shooting Star enlighten, when seeing Night Stripe, standing unease and emoting an awkward eyes twitching back and forth around him, but his eyes looked so sad when glancing way at his father.
Night Stripe gave a nod to his friend, making way to the stairs, leaving for the other two alone.
"Thank you again, for doing this for us." Jaded Ember said to Shooting Star, once he saw his son out of sight.
"It's no problem, Mr. Ember, I'm always happy to help." Shooting Star said back with a cheerful face, even if his eyes didn't match it, which his next words express. "You think he's going to be okay, I mean with everything?"
"Night Stripe is a big boy, he was free to make his own choices, this was his; and besides, he's handling this better than I am." Jaded Ember glanced warily way to the stairs his son took, before going back to other teen, adding. "But if anything, here, have this." He handed a card to Shooting Star, reading what was on it, overhearing what Jaded Ember implied. "Call that number, if anything is wrong. He's got all the things he need in his bag, also, umm, he had taken a job that's by Oak Street Park, do you think maybe, if anything . . ."
"I'll be sure he'll be okay during the day, sir, but we have to keep in mind, he's a big boy remembers." Shooting Star echoed back, knowing full well, of what Night Stripe's father was saying before, yet further said. "If he takes any night hours, I'll be sure to be there, okay?"
"Yes, thank you. Well I'll be going." Jaded Ember than started to make way of leaving before, Night Stripe came back down, his bag not with him this time, seeing his father and friend, still in the same place he saw him.
He waved goodbye to his father, with a smile, consequential leading to a bear hug from the latter, that happen so fast, it left Night Stripe unsure at first what his father was doing, blush intake of it was besides the point, leaving only stun for a moment, before slightly returning the hug back.
"I'm sorry about this, Night Stripe."
Jaded Ember felt a soft pat on his back of understanding.
"I'll be back, not a second late, on the twenty-seventh of August; you'll be alright until then, right?"
He felt a nod from his son, unashamedly kissing the side of Night Stripe's temple, earning him the same response Hazy would normally get, having a wispy chuckle leave his person, before going out the door, once reaching to the car, turning to wave again, seeing one given back, before his father was long down the road, and the door closed.
"Parasol stopping by later, after I pretty much begged a few times, she finally promised to make dinner for all of us at eight. My parents are out of town, so we'll be on our own until they come back from their overseas trip."
Night Stripe reached into his vest front pocket for a pad and pencil, quickly writing something down, as they made way into the kitchen, Shooting Star grabbing a few apples from a fruit basket that rested on counter near the toaster by the oven, placing them on the dining table, that Night Stripe choose to sit, and showing what he wrote down for Shooting Star to read.
"Yeah, sorry about that, no, I was going to tell your mom, but it slip my mind, my parents are aware and didn't mind much of it, so no real worries." Shooting Star stated to the other, taking a seat across from him, munching a moment or so on his apple, before going on. "Just like you, I took a summer job also, so lunch time on Mondays, Thursdays, and Fridays, and dinner time on Tuesdays, Saturdays, Wednesdays, you are going have to do on your own. And you better not skip, not only do I not want your parents down my neck, keep of mind that so does Parasol too, and she'll get us both in the end."
Night Stripe nodded, making a gesture for Shooting Star to reading and answering his questions he wrote down. Sparing a moment to take a bite out of his apple, as well, chewing and savoring, to him maybe the best thing he had ever eaten, only proving Shooting Star point from before, more so true.
After Shooting Star skim through most, he quickly listed off his thoughts of them to Night Stripe.
"Sorry to say man, but I don't believe in curfews or bedtimes, if I'm up, you'll be up too. Do you have a time chart from your work place?"
Night Stripe pointed upward.
"Yeah, I would just use that for when you want to go to bed. Basic math set, so you'll be fine, just howler if you get lost." Shooting Star told him mindlessly with little care of how the other would take it, as the tone was spoken in good nature, going down the rest of the list quickly, finishing his apple as he did. "Books and there is a computer up and running in my dad's study, so you don't have to the city library, just keep G-rated . . ." He said with a grin, watching over the notepad to see Night Stripe's disappointed frown at him, he tried not to laugh, but it was hard not to, and moving along. "No big rules, you have free range of house, no breaking anything, and we'll be fine from my parents." When he saw a nod, he went on. "Yeah I got a reminder from your mom too; sounds like fun, so I'm up for it when you are, I might be able learn some signs out of it . . . for your last question, umm, dude . . . you punk me didn't you?"
Shooting Star said with a teasing grin, tossing the pad close to his friend, who as well wore a small smile, inching away so to miss the pad all together, even wasn't near him from the start of it all.
"There are times, I swear, you little dweeb, become a little like me. I'm so proud, I might just cry."
Night Stripe rolled his eyes at the other's overplayed charmed words, ignoring the beating red on his face, when Shooting Star leaned and pinched the other's cheeks, must to the dismay Night Stripe gave for the other to stopped, who only laughed it off, patting both sides for further redness to come, before leaving the kitchen.
"I'm going to catch some sleep, work was murder today, and Parasol will be here in an hour or so. If you want a snack, raid the kitchen as much as you want. TV opens for you to enjoy, goodnight, buddy."
Not even giving a pause to the other.
And Night Stripe was now alone, in another kitchen, in another house, in very much another world to him, and finally able to let his unknowing stiff shoulders go slant, curling half his upper body on the table, notepad just a new inches away, that he grabbed hold of for comfort as it was something his parents packed for him without knowing, in so not long before sleep could take him, he moved to living room, shaking it off, finding something to watch, anything at random.
And that was only sound in the house, in a way, it set his off as eerie, but he choose this, and there nothing else to do, but to deal with it now, than later on, in regret.