Chapter Sixteen
June 22nd, 1922
Miles City, Montana
After a wonderful dinner of steak, potatoes, and a salad along with the special dessert of strawberry cake in honor of Valentina's annual hot-shot audition, Charlie found himself resigned to his bedroom. He spent the rest of his evening building more onto his train collection in hopes of having something to show for the summer. He even considered for the first time in weeks pulling his art supplies out, but he decided against it. It was a step in the right direction, Charlie thought, however, as he hadn't even considered art since school had let out. Charlie worked diligently, glancing towards the gold alarm clock on his night table several times. As the clock struck past nine, he worked even faster as he knew his bed time was nearing.
Right at half past nine, his father appeared in his doorway after a curt rap on the door. His father was already dressed for bed himself, "You know the drill, soldier," Jack said, tapping his cane against the ground beside his son. Charlie huffed and puffed as normal, but he dressed himself in a white undershirt with red and black plaid cotton pants to his father's approval. As Charlie crawled into bed for the usual routine, he watched as his father paused to admire his growing scene around his train tracks.
"You've made a lot of progress," Jack commented as he seated himself on the edge of the bed, "To be honest, I didn't think you'd find a home for all those pieces we bought you for your birthday, but you've proved me wrong, bud."
"I think I could use even more pieces," Charlie told him, which had Jack chuckling. Jack leaned his cane up against the wall and pulled the quilt up over Charlie's shoulders.
"Nice try," Jack grinned, "Maybe St. Nicholas will bring you some," Jack took his time fluffing Charlie's pillows and then leaned down, pecking him on his forehead through his mess of sweet blond hair, "Good night, Charlie. I'll see you in the morning."
Charlie watched as his father carefully manuevered back through the mess of a train collection and went to the door, flicking the light off. Charlie gripped the covers over his body tightly as he contemplated the words he wanted to say, "Dad," He called out without thinking, stopping his father in his tracks at the door.
"Yeah?" Jack leaned back in.
Charlie propped himself up on his elbow, "You know... it's been awhile since I've drawn anything. Do you think on your next day off... we could maybe... draw again like we used to?"
Jack was surprised at first. He came back into the dark room, the light of the hallway illuminating his tall figure, "You want to go hike and draw again?"
"Yeah," Charlie nodded from his bed, "Maybe my summer doesn't have to be so boring after all."
Slowly, a grin came across his father's face, "You bet, Charlie. This Saturday, you and I will go for a nice hike that ends in a drawing session. How about that?"
Charlie smiled weakly, "Thanks, Dad."
Once his father had left, Charlie sighed and sank into his goosedown pillows. He stared at the ceiling of his bedroom, listening to his clock slowly tick. Every night, he was confronted with the memories of last Saturday. Charlie cringed when he recalled his actions and lack of thought. The worst part of it all... the bottle rocket Lawrence had assigned to him was the one that went into the pine trees, causing them to combust. Charlie shivered at the thought of allowing himself to fire it. He couldn't even imagine the self-hate he would have felt then. He already felt awful when, in the end, he hadn't lit a bottle rocket himself. Now Charlie only wanted to atone for the wrong doings he had made against nature, which had always been there for him when he had no friends to hang out with. He hoped with good deeds that Mother Nature could forgive him for what he had thought, at first, was a fun innocent past time. Charlie focused on falling asleep. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath through his nose, releasing it through his mouth. He opened his eyes again, however, and looked out the window.
"I promise I'll make it up to you..." He whispered to the world before he closed his eyes once more.
...
June 23rd, 1922
Miles City, Montana
Charlie awoke abruptly just after one in the morning. He lifted his head groggily, his hair piled atop his head in a rats nest. He rubbed at his eyes, wondering why he had suddenly jolted awake. Slowly, Charlie laid his head back against his pillows and closed his tired eyes. But after a moment, a noise caught his attention again. Charlie sat up in bed now, wide awake, as he scanned his room with eyes the size of saucers. Then the noise came again. Charlie's head snapped towards his windows. It sounded like someone was throwing rocks.
Charlie sat up on his knees in bed and pushed his window open, gazing out to the sideyard of his house. Standing down below was Peter, Ivan, and Lawrence. Ivan had another rock geared up in his hand, but he lowered it when he saw Charlie in his sleepy state.
"Don't tell me we woke you up," Lawrence grinned mischeviously, "The night's only just started! Get down here, Charlie."
Charlie glanced towards his bedroom door before he looked back out his window, "I don't think that's a good idea. I'll just catch up with you guys tomorrow."
"I wasn't asking you; I was telling you," Lawrence said rather sternly, "Now get out of your pajamas and get down here!"
Charlie grew nervous at the tone in his voice. Quickly, Charlie disappeared from the window and staggered into some khaki pants, throwing a green button up on. He was fumbling with the buttons while he stumbled into his boots. It only took a few moments for Charlie to appear fully dressed at his window. He dangled his legs over for a moment.
You don't have to do this, Charlie told himself, They can't do anything to you when you're up here and they're down there.
"Hurry up," Ivan hissed, "'fore your helicopter parents come and bust us!"
Charlie sighed and pushed himself from the ledge of his window. He balanced precariously on the slanted roof as he stumbled towards the garden trellis, which creaked and shifted beneath the boy's hurried descent. Charlie rubbed his sweaty palms against his trousers as the trio of boys came over to him.
"Get your bike," Lawrence said plainly, brushing past Charlie.
The four boys rode in a silence that made Charlie feel uneasy. They took the familiar empty main road to the park. Slowly, the boys wheeled themselves down towards the bank of the river. Charlie was the last to get off his bike and he was hesitant to even lay it down out of grasp. Lawrence withdrew a pack of cigarettes from his ratty patched jacket.
"Come on, we got some good stuff tonight," Lawrence said, leading the pack of boys where the rest of them were. The other boys were laid out on the grassy banks and perched on rocks, passing a bottle of stolen gin from the Dawson household between each other. Lawrence intercepted the pass of the bottle, making one boy stir, but he was silenced with one sharp look from Lawrence. Charlie glanced around at the boys who were beginning to notice him. Lawrence grinned at Charlie, holding the gin out towards him, "Take a big ol' gulp. You're the reason we even have it."
"No, thanks..." Charlie mumbled, shaking his head.
"Why not?" Lawrence asked sharply.
"I, uh... I kind of have a headache..."
"Just drink it, you big wuss," Lawrence shoved the bottle into Charlie's hand and the clear liquid splashed back and forth. All eyes were on Charlie now and he felt an immense pressure in his chest. He took a deep breath through his nose again, out through the mouth, and lifted the bottle. The putrid liquid slid down his throat, leaving a blazing trail in its path. The warm feeling dribbled all the way to his belly, "Yeah, that's what I thought," Lawrence nodded when Charlie lowered the bottle. The boy already felt lightheaded, "Take another drink."
"But-"
"Do. It," Lawrence said through clenched teeth before lifting his cigarette to his chapped lips. Charlie did as Lawrence asked and then quickly handed the bottle off to Ivan, not wanting a drop more. His entire body felt loose and Charlie did not enjoy his delayed reactions. He watched as the other boys began drinking their share, wiping their mouths on their sleeves as they carelessly passed the bottle to the next. Charlie blinked his red eyes and looked to Lawrence with his shaggy oily hair beneath the milky moonlight bleeding through the canopy of trees above.
"So, Charlie..." Lawrence said, exhaling a plume of smoke into the air, "I noticed you haven't come around since the fire. Wanna tell me why?"
Charlie lowered his eyes. For a moment, his hands curled into fists but he quickly straightened them back out and smoothed his palms against his trousers again, "I was just playin' it safe, like you said. Wouldn't want anyone connecting the dots."
Lawrence grinned, "God, you're so full of shit, Charlie."
"What?" Charlie looked towards the tall boy.
Slowly, Lawrence began pacing in circles around Charlie, making the boy grow extremely anxious. He looked around to see the boys were in all directions and he had no clear path to his bicycle, "You know, you seemed okay at first, Charlie..." Lawrence said, his boots crunching over the pebbles on the bank of the river, "But its become all-too-obvious you were never cut out to be a Diamond Boy after all," Lawrence paused just behind Charlie, "You're weak. You're childish. And your feelings get hurt all too easily. If a couple trees getting burnt to crisps makes you sad, I imagine we could break your pathetic little heart."
"I am not weak," Charlie said, not daring to look over his shoulder, "I just think it's wrong to burn trees. They never did anything to us."
"That is exactly what divides you from us," Lawrence now came to stand back in front of Charlie, carelessly flicking his cigarette into the river, "I thought you just wanted to have fun this summer. Are we not having fun, Charlie?"
Uncomfortably, Charlie shifted the weight between his feet, "I just think we can have fun doin' other stuff... that's all."
Around him, the boys began snickering at Charlie's ludicrous idea. Lawrence's smile only grew wider with the cackling of his crew, "You think trying to see how many times you can skip a rock across this river is fun? Climbing trees like a monkey? You think that going for a long bike ride is plenty to blow off steam? You're not one of us, Charlie. You never were."
Charlie nodded and lowered his eyes, "Fine. I'll leave then and I'll never bother you guys again."
"Oh, that's not how it works," Lawrence wagged his finger at Charlie, "See the problem is, Charlie... you know too much now. You were never one of us," Slowly, Lawrence approached him, towering over the small Dawson boy, "What's stopping you from telling anyone it was us that caused that fire? You know the police are snooping around."
"I'm not gonna say anything," Charlie shook his head.
"I don't believe you."
"Really! I won't breath a word," Charlie told him.
"Bullshit," Lawrence scoffed, "Now listen to me. Here's what's gonna happen: You're not one of us, alright? Let's make that clear. But your family's got money and you got the trust with your parents. So you're gonna bring us a bottle of liquor every other Friday evening. I expect a pack of cigarettes every now and then, too. You're going to keep us supplied. If you even think of skippin' on us or whinin' to your picture-perfect parents, we're going to tell the police department ourselves that you were the one playing with the bottle rockets and you're the one who caused the fire, got it?"
"Are you... blackmailing me?" Charlie nearly whispered, his heart thundering in his chest.
"Call it whatever you want," Lawrence shrugged, pulling another cigarette out for himself. He paused and looked at the crumpled pack, "I'm runnin' low on cigarettes, by the way, so that should be part of your delivery this Friday."
Charlie furrowed his brow, "Do you think the police would really believe I started the fire? I've lived here my whole life. This town knows my family."
"Yeah, and I do, too," Lawrence grinned, his cigarette dangling loosely from his lips, "Your dad's name is Jack Dawson. He owns that crappy magazine business. And your mom's name is Rose. I've seen her name in the paper a couple times."
"So, why would the police believe you over me?" Charlie asked.
"You act like I'm daft," Lawrence rolled his eyes, lowering his cigarette from his lips, "I wouldn't be the one makin' accusations against you. That's what the rest of the Diamond Boys are for. Stevie over there has never been in trouble with the law. You can call him the whistle blower, by all means. You know Stevie... you grew up with Stevie... he's got the same cookie-cutter family life as you. The only difference is he doesn't get caught up in his feelings," Lawrence looked towards the obviously drunk ashen blond boy, "You can cry on command, right?"
Stevie grinned and came to his feet. The rest of the boys were already smiling deviously as Stevie took a deep breath. Immediately, tears sprung to his eyes and he melodramatically brought his hands up, "Officer, I saw Charlie Dawson up at Bird's Perch! He's been stealin' fireworks all summer! Just ask Mr. Peters! I saw him, I swear!"
Charlie watched with wide eyes, a coolness seeping into his skin. Charlie shivered beneath the milky moonlight as Stevie let out a cry, wiping his eyes, "We just wanted to have fun at the fishin' hole this summer, but Charlie Dawson ruined it with his stupid bottle rocket prank!" A couple stray tears fell from Stevie's eyes and after a moment, he broke character, wiping his face on his sleeve. He grinned at Charlie as he seated himself back on the rock he had been perched on.
"Pretty convincing, huh?" Lawrence turned his eyes back on Charlie, "This Friday, alright?" Charlie didn't know what to say. He couldn't even muster a nod. He stood there, absolutely flabberghasted, "Alright, boys, you know what to do."
Slowly, the group of Diamond Boys began closing in on Charlie. Charlie was startled and staggered away from them, but Ross grabbed him from behind, pinning his arms back. Charlie's eyes darted between all the boys who were advancing on him.
"Oh," Lawrence said, making them pause. Everyone looked towards Lawrence who was taking his time exhaling a cloud of smoke into the air, "hit him everywhere but his face. Don't want his parents getting suspicious."
And with that, the boys circled Charlie, blocking his view from the grinning leader.
