Chapter Four
"How is the soup, dear?"
Clear stared across the tiny table at Maralynn, who was looking at her expectantly. Clear could read her thoughts. 'If she doesn't like it, I'll just die.' So, she put on a toothy grin and said, "It's awesome," even though A, she was sure Maralynn didn't know what awesome meant, and B, the 'soup' was nothing more than glorified tomato water.
Maralynn smiled at this and went back to her soup. Clear sipped a few spoonfulls down and drowned the taste with a swig of skim milk. Then, she politely excused herself from the table and went to the bedroom.
It was funny. Clear had tried and tried to think of this place as 'her' bedroom, 'her' bed, and she even tried to think of Maralynn as her 'grandmother.' But it was no use. These things would always be just... there.
She reached under the bed and pulled out the one thing that she could call hers. Her guitar. It was very special to her. When she was ten, her dad tought her how to play guitar, but his broke just a month before he died. Rather than buying a new one, her sixth grade shop teacher showed her how to make her own. It had taken almost three months, and she had wasted a lot of wood, but she had finally made her own. She played it all the time, and wrote songs that explained how she was feeling on the inside.
Mostly, they were sad songs.
Not even knowing what she was doing, she strummed a few random chords that sounded nice together. Then she added in a relative minor chord... then she began singing out one of the poems she had written that week. She closed her eyes, trying hard to "feel" the music. But in this sterril, musty environment, nothing was natural for her.
"Clear?" Maralynn suddenly asked, comming in the room without bothering to knock, "I like hearing you sing."
Clear blushed. "That's... nice."
"Could you sing 'Bridge Over Troubled Water' for me?" she asked, sitting down on the tiny chair that lay in the room. "I love that song."
Clear shrugged. She knew how to play and sing that song, she just hated it. But, without a word of defiance, she began playing it.
'Maybe,' Clear thought while she was playing, 'If I play nicely enough, she will fall asleep and I can get out of here.'
But Maralynn didn't fall asleep. She just kept right on listening until the end. When she was done, she clapped wildly like an old woman on Price Is Right. "That was wonderful! I'm going to go to my room and watch some TV. Feel free to read or something, just be in bed soon."
Clear nodded. She watched as Maralynn puttered out of the room. She second she shut the door, Clear dropped her guitar and squeezed herself through the window.
***
George, Tod, and Alex were walking around the lake that night after supper, looking for things to do. "I swear," Tod was muttering, "There's a soccer field around here."
George mumbled an agreement and looked to the side. Up the hill, in some old woman's cottage, he saw a pair of black Doc Martens slip out one of the windows. The boots were followed by a pair of brown corduroy pants and a blue tank top. To top it off was a headfull of straight auburn hair.
"Guys," he whispered, "That girl looks familiar."
Tod squinted at the figure, which was now on the floor and jogging to the side of the cabin. "That's Clear Rivers. Remember, that new girl?"
Clear glanced around, clearly seeing the three boys. Did she know who they were? Tod, wanting to get her attention, cupped his hands around his mouth and shouted, "Hey, Clear! Over here!"
Clear started daggers at him and marched over there. "Shut up!" she exclaimed, "Er... Tod, or George... whichever."
George stepped forward. "I'm George," he confirmed. No one ever had trouble telling them apart anymore, they looked very different. But Clear was pretty much antisocial and never bothered getting to know anyone when she moved to Mount Aberham.
"Yeah, I thought so... uh, you guys should be quiet. Maralynn will freak if she finds out I'm here."
Alex looked at his watch. "Clear? It's only eight thirty."
Clear rolled her eyes. "Duh. But Maralynn thinks little baby Clear is staying out past her beddy-bye time." Even Clear found herself shocked at how angry she sounded. "Er--Maralynn is my stepgrandmother," she explained.
Tod shrugged. "Cool. How long have you been here?"
"Just got here today," she muttered quickly.
"Same here."
They stood in silence awkwardly. Then George twisted his foot in the ground. "We were just going to go hang out at the soccer field. Want to come?"
Clear looked around at the red sky. Then back at her already dark cabin. She smelled barbacue somewhere in the distance. She hated mean, but it was better than the musty smell of Maralynn's cottage. "Sure," she said with a smile, "I could use some excitement."
The four walked, making small talk. Then Tod and George mentioned their birthday. "We should have a party," George decided. "I mean, we have a week. We can invite some people from here. I hear Billy Hitchcock is working at the tuck shop. And we have Clear," he added, winking, "By then you'll have perfected sneaking out."
Clear blushed. "When's your birthday?" she asked, thinking of her own.
"The 10th," they both answered.
Clear grinned. "Wow! Mine, too!"
They all laughed and made comments at this and continued walking to the soccer field. When they reached it, they were shocked at who they saw there.
***
Carter rocked back and forth on the wooden bleachers. So far, the day had not been all that great. Mark had ditched him for some girl he met at the beach and left him to have "supper" by himself. Carter, though, had no idea how to cook and had to see Billy Hitchcock at the tuck shop when he bought a sub.
Carter had to smile at the thought of naive little Billy mistaking Carter's 5 dollar bill for a 10. But he sighed again, thinking of how much he wanted to see Terry Chaney. Was she bullshitting when she said she would be at the lake? He had to admit, he had never payed that much attention to her before. But this was different. Very different.
Four people walked onto the field in the distance. He stared at them. One of them was a girl... but it wasn't Terry. Oh, man, it was Queer Rivers. Hippy Chick herself. And she was with Alex the Fag and the Wanker twins. Combined with seeing Billy at the tuck shop, this place was turning into Losers on Parade.
The four got closer, obviously seeing him. Tod, the idiot that he was, actually called out, "Hey, Horton!"
Carter slid out of his seat and approached the little gang. "What do you guys want?" he asked with a snarl.
Clear blushed and looked away. She was always a wimp, Carter thought. Alex just rolled his eyes and said, "Can't we come here, too? Or are you and all your friends ruling this little field right now?" He looked around. "Wait a minute," he began sarcastically, "I don't see your little possee around here!"
Carter huffed and wound up his fist. Releasing, he was ready to punch Alex when Clear stepped between them. "Don't touch him, asshole," she said fiercly.
Carter's fist stopped. For a second, he considered punching Clear, but he couldn't bring himself to hit a girl. "Look," he mocked instead, "Browning's got himself a girlfriend."
George and Tod rolled their eyes while Clear and Alex blushed. Then Clear looked up at the sky. "You know, I think I should go." Then she ran off, tripping on her pants as she went.
Alex began to run after her, but Carter grabbed his shirt. "Where are you going, pussy?" he asked him toughly. Alex lunged his fist at the bully, but Carter was faster than him. He socked Alex in the eye.
Alex, trying to mask his blinding pain, pushed Carter down. The two rolled all over the ground, beating the shit out of each other. Both Tod and George had to pry them apart. Standing up, they saw that Alex already had a black eye forming while Carter had a bruise on his cheek and a cut on his lip.
Carter spat onto the ground. "I'll get you for this, Browning," he warned, stalking off.
Alex stared into the distance, not looking at either Carter or his friends. Finally, he turned around and walked back to the cabin in silence.
"How is the soup, dear?"
Clear stared across the tiny table at Maralynn, who was looking at her expectantly. Clear could read her thoughts. 'If she doesn't like it, I'll just die.' So, she put on a toothy grin and said, "It's awesome," even though A, she was sure Maralynn didn't know what awesome meant, and B, the 'soup' was nothing more than glorified tomato water.
Maralynn smiled at this and went back to her soup. Clear sipped a few spoonfulls down and drowned the taste with a swig of skim milk. Then, she politely excused herself from the table and went to the bedroom.
It was funny. Clear had tried and tried to think of this place as 'her' bedroom, 'her' bed, and she even tried to think of Maralynn as her 'grandmother.' But it was no use. These things would always be just... there.
She reached under the bed and pulled out the one thing that she could call hers. Her guitar. It was very special to her. When she was ten, her dad tought her how to play guitar, but his broke just a month before he died. Rather than buying a new one, her sixth grade shop teacher showed her how to make her own. It had taken almost three months, and she had wasted a lot of wood, but she had finally made her own. She played it all the time, and wrote songs that explained how she was feeling on the inside.
Mostly, they were sad songs.
Not even knowing what she was doing, she strummed a few random chords that sounded nice together. Then she added in a relative minor chord... then she began singing out one of the poems she had written that week. She closed her eyes, trying hard to "feel" the music. But in this sterril, musty environment, nothing was natural for her.
"Clear?" Maralynn suddenly asked, comming in the room without bothering to knock, "I like hearing you sing."
Clear blushed. "That's... nice."
"Could you sing 'Bridge Over Troubled Water' for me?" she asked, sitting down on the tiny chair that lay in the room. "I love that song."
Clear shrugged. She knew how to play and sing that song, she just hated it. But, without a word of defiance, she began playing it.
'Maybe,' Clear thought while she was playing, 'If I play nicely enough, she will fall asleep and I can get out of here.'
But Maralynn didn't fall asleep. She just kept right on listening until the end. When she was done, she clapped wildly like an old woman on Price Is Right. "That was wonderful! I'm going to go to my room and watch some TV. Feel free to read or something, just be in bed soon."
Clear nodded. She watched as Maralynn puttered out of the room. She second she shut the door, Clear dropped her guitar and squeezed herself through the window.
***
George, Tod, and Alex were walking around the lake that night after supper, looking for things to do. "I swear," Tod was muttering, "There's a soccer field around here."
George mumbled an agreement and looked to the side. Up the hill, in some old woman's cottage, he saw a pair of black Doc Martens slip out one of the windows. The boots were followed by a pair of brown corduroy pants and a blue tank top. To top it off was a headfull of straight auburn hair.
"Guys," he whispered, "That girl looks familiar."
Tod squinted at the figure, which was now on the floor and jogging to the side of the cabin. "That's Clear Rivers. Remember, that new girl?"
Clear glanced around, clearly seeing the three boys. Did she know who they were? Tod, wanting to get her attention, cupped his hands around his mouth and shouted, "Hey, Clear! Over here!"
Clear started daggers at him and marched over there. "Shut up!" she exclaimed, "Er... Tod, or George... whichever."
George stepped forward. "I'm George," he confirmed. No one ever had trouble telling them apart anymore, they looked very different. But Clear was pretty much antisocial and never bothered getting to know anyone when she moved to Mount Aberham.
"Yeah, I thought so... uh, you guys should be quiet. Maralynn will freak if she finds out I'm here."
Alex looked at his watch. "Clear? It's only eight thirty."
Clear rolled her eyes. "Duh. But Maralynn thinks little baby Clear is staying out past her beddy-bye time." Even Clear found herself shocked at how angry she sounded. "Er--Maralynn is my stepgrandmother," she explained.
Tod shrugged. "Cool. How long have you been here?"
"Just got here today," she muttered quickly.
"Same here."
They stood in silence awkwardly. Then George twisted his foot in the ground. "We were just going to go hang out at the soccer field. Want to come?"
Clear looked around at the red sky. Then back at her already dark cabin. She smelled barbacue somewhere in the distance. She hated mean, but it was better than the musty smell of Maralynn's cottage. "Sure," she said with a smile, "I could use some excitement."
The four walked, making small talk. Then Tod and George mentioned their birthday. "We should have a party," George decided. "I mean, we have a week. We can invite some people from here. I hear Billy Hitchcock is working at the tuck shop. And we have Clear," he added, winking, "By then you'll have perfected sneaking out."
Clear blushed. "When's your birthday?" she asked, thinking of her own.
"The 10th," they both answered.
Clear grinned. "Wow! Mine, too!"
They all laughed and made comments at this and continued walking to the soccer field. When they reached it, they were shocked at who they saw there.
***
Carter rocked back and forth on the wooden bleachers. So far, the day had not been all that great. Mark had ditched him for some girl he met at the beach and left him to have "supper" by himself. Carter, though, had no idea how to cook and had to see Billy Hitchcock at the tuck shop when he bought a sub.
Carter had to smile at the thought of naive little Billy mistaking Carter's 5 dollar bill for a 10. But he sighed again, thinking of how much he wanted to see Terry Chaney. Was she bullshitting when she said she would be at the lake? He had to admit, he had never payed that much attention to her before. But this was different. Very different.
Four people walked onto the field in the distance. He stared at them. One of them was a girl... but it wasn't Terry. Oh, man, it was Queer Rivers. Hippy Chick herself. And she was with Alex the Fag and the Wanker twins. Combined with seeing Billy at the tuck shop, this place was turning into Losers on Parade.
The four got closer, obviously seeing him. Tod, the idiot that he was, actually called out, "Hey, Horton!"
Carter slid out of his seat and approached the little gang. "What do you guys want?" he asked with a snarl.
Clear blushed and looked away. She was always a wimp, Carter thought. Alex just rolled his eyes and said, "Can't we come here, too? Or are you and all your friends ruling this little field right now?" He looked around. "Wait a minute," he began sarcastically, "I don't see your little possee around here!"
Carter huffed and wound up his fist. Releasing, he was ready to punch Alex when Clear stepped between them. "Don't touch him, asshole," she said fiercly.
Carter's fist stopped. For a second, he considered punching Clear, but he couldn't bring himself to hit a girl. "Look," he mocked instead, "Browning's got himself a girlfriend."
George and Tod rolled their eyes while Clear and Alex blushed. Then Clear looked up at the sky. "You know, I think I should go." Then she ran off, tripping on her pants as she went.
Alex began to run after her, but Carter grabbed his shirt. "Where are you going, pussy?" he asked him toughly. Alex lunged his fist at the bully, but Carter was faster than him. He socked Alex in the eye.
Alex, trying to mask his blinding pain, pushed Carter down. The two rolled all over the ground, beating the shit out of each other. Both Tod and George had to pry them apart. Standing up, they saw that Alex already had a black eye forming while Carter had a bruise on his cheek and a cut on his lip.
Carter spat onto the ground. "I'll get you for this, Browning," he warned, stalking off.
Alex stared into the distance, not looking at either Carter or his friends. Finally, he turned around and walked back to the cabin in silence.
