**There's a few things I feel I need to say before I continue this story any further. I re-read The Body this weekend and discovered that I've made a significant mistake. I made up Cassie, thinking that Chris' siblings were never actually mentioned in the original novella by Stephen King (aside from Eyeball of course). But guess what? I was wrong. In the Body, Chris has two younger brothers and a sister; Sheldon who's nine, Emery, five, and a two year old girl named Deborah. I considered rewriting my whole story but I read my reviews, and felt encouraged to continue with the version I've got going. Plus, the fact of the matter is, I'm too lazy to go back and write six chapters over. So please bear with me, and if you haven't noticed this mistake, I'm sorry I brought it up. I just don't want to get flamed over something trivial like a minor betrayal of the original plot (actually I'd rather not get flamed at all, though I respect and want to hear EVERY opinion). But then heck. This whole story betrays the plot! Heh heh heh. Forgive me, I'm rambling. I just felt this needed to be said and my apologies given. P.S. Thanks for the reviews. They were lovely.P.P.S.My chapters are short. I'm sorry. I have a short dedication span.
The history quiz was easy as Chris and I had figured it'd be. I finished it quickly, turned it in, and returned to my desk for what would be an hour of "silent study". Unfortunately, the study was not so silent. Fifteen minutes later, a boy two seats to my right hissed my name. I turned and looked at him, dreading what half wit insult he'd come up with. He was holding up a spiral notebook with my name, Betsy, written in thick black letters on the paper. I watched, curiously as he flipped the page.
IS. BETSY IS. A few more pages turned. BETSY IS ANOTHER. BETSY IS ANOTHER CHAMBERS'. The message eventually spelled out, Betsy is another Chambers' slut. My face burned, and I could hear the people around me snickering. The boy smiled a sick, slow, evil smile, enjoying the obvious amusement of his audience. I flipped him the bird and bent over a book, not daring to glance up, but not reading either. I couldn't see. Everything seemed to be swirling in clouds of angry red. I grit my teeth together, furiously.
"Hey," Someone whispered. I slowly raised my head. Gordie Lachance was leaning far out of his seat, talking to Mr. Notebook. "Hey."
"Waddya want Lachance?" The boy snarled.
"I just wanted to ask you about the whole slut thing you know, because I hear that's what they call your mom down at Sukey's Tavern, when she does her table dances and stuff." Gordie said, looking sincere. "Isn't that what they call your mom?"
"Go to hell, Lachance." But it was too late. A new series of snickering broke out, and Gordie smiled, drawing back into his chair, having succeeded in what he set out to do–draw attention away from me. I watched him for a while, amazed and gratified. A few moments later he looked back at me, giving me a weak smile. I just blinked.
That day after school Chris and I waited for the bus, and despite the rain–which was falling steadily by then–it was a million and a half degrees. Neither of us were looking forward to the ride, to the grade school and then home. It would be even hotter on the bus, and then it would stink and then...well, I knew what else we were dreading.
"Haven't you two chums had enough of the bus today?" We turned around.
"Hey Gordo," Chris grinned at his friend, and the wrinkles around his eyes went away and he looked seventeen again.
"Hi," I said shyly, not knowing how to react to the way he'd saved me in history. I was glad Chris didn't know about that. He'd been too wrapped up in Algebra to notice anything that was going on at the time, and I was grateful. It would only have made him feel more guilty. Chris, as I would learn, constantly felt guilty, mostly for things that weren't even his fault.
"Hi Betsy." Gordie smiled, ever warm, ever friendly. "What gives with you two riding that heap of crap again? Not enough fun this morning? Do you feel like you need to go back for more?"
"No," Chris sighed. "We just don't feel like walking a couple miles, hot as it is."
"Hell, Chris, I've got a truck you know." Gordie laughed. "I could take you home."
"No kidding?" Chris looked thrilled.
"No kidding." He replied, then adding, "You too, Betsy."
"Would you mind stopping at the grade school so we could get Cassie?" Chris asked.
"No." Gordie sighed. "Of course not. Let's just go already, before we all get soaked."
Gordie's truck was bright robin's egg blue, contrasting sharply against the gray wetness of Castle Rock. Chris sat in the middle, next to Gordie, and I sat by the window, looking out as we drove down the road to the shabby grade school we'd all left behind.
Cassie was waiting at the bus stop, her shoulders hunched over, looking tired. Gordie rolled down the window, and smiled at her. "Hey little girl, could you use a ride?"
"Hey Cassie!" Chris waved at his sister. Her face lit up and she ran around to the passenger side of the truck. I opened the door and helped her up, watching as she settled in Chris' lap.
"Did you have a good day, Cassie?" Chris asked.
"Not really," She answered honestly, playing with a stray thread hanging from Chris' sleeve. "Not really, but I'm alright."
"Maybe tomorrow will be better," Gordie suggested brightly.
"Maybe." Cassie agreed, but looked doubtful.
"I'll bet Maddie's fixed some cookies." I spoke suddenly. "She likes to bake during the day when I'm gone. Probably chocolate chip cookies or oatmeal or sugar."
"Peanut butter, maybe?" Cassie asked.
"Maybe. She likes those."
It didn't take long to get there, although Gordie's driving style was slow, and patient, like maybe he was enjoying the scenery. Of course, there was no scenery to be looking at around Castle Rock, but he drove that way just the same, the windows rolled down and the radio playing softly while he and Chris talked about trivial things. It was almost pleasant. I'd made the drive with Maddie a million times before, but it was interesting suddenly.
"Maddie wouldn't mind Gordie coming in for a while, would she Betsy?" Chris asked.
"Not at all," I replied, helping Cassie out of the truck. "Gordie, you're more than welcome."
The history quiz was easy as Chris and I had figured it'd be. I finished it quickly, turned it in, and returned to my desk for what would be an hour of "silent study". Unfortunately, the study was not so silent. Fifteen minutes later, a boy two seats to my right hissed my name. I turned and looked at him, dreading what half wit insult he'd come up with. He was holding up a spiral notebook with my name, Betsy, written in thick black letters on the paper. I watched, curiously as he flipped the page.
IS. BETSY IS. A few more pages turned. BETSY IS ANOTHER. BETSY IS ANOTHER CHAMBERS'. The message eventually spelled out, Betsy is another Chambers' slut. My face burned, and I could hear the people around me snickering. The boy smiled a sick, slow, evil smile, enjoying the obvious amusement of his audience. I flipped him the bird and bent over a book, not daring to glance up, but not reading either. I couldn't see. Everything seemed to be swirling in clouds of angry red. I grit my teeth together, furiously.
"Hey," Someone whispered. I slowly raised my head. Gordie Lachance was leaning far out of his seat, talking to Mr. Notebook. "Hey."
"Waddya want Lachance?" The boy snarled.
"I just wanted to ask you about the whole slut thing you know, because I hear that's what they call your mom down at Sukey's Tavern, when she does her table dances and stuff." Gordie said, looking sincere. "Isn't that what they call your mom?"
"Go to hell, Lachance." But it was too late. A new series of snickering broke out, and Gordie smiled, drawing back into his chair, having succeeded in what he set out to do–draw attention away from me. I watched him for a while, amazed and gratified. A few moments later he looked back at me, giving me a weak smile. I just blinked.
That day after school Chris and I waited for the bus, and despite the rain–which was falling steadily by then–it was a million and a half degrees. Neither of us were looking forward to the ride, to the grade school and then home. It would be even hotter on the bus, and then it would stink and then...well, I knew what else we were dreading.
"Haven't you two chums had enough of the bus today?" We turned around.
"Hey Gordo," Chris grinned at his friend, and the wrinkles around his eyes went away and he looked seventeen again.
"Hi," I said shyly, not knowing how to react to the way he'd saved me in history. I was glad Chris didn't know about that. He'd been too wrapped up in Algebra to notice anything that was going on at the time, and I was grateful. It would only have made him feel more guilty. Chris, as I would learn, constantly felt guilty, mostly for things that weren't even his fault.
"Hi Betsy." Gordie smiled, ever warm, ever friendly. "What gives with you two riding that heap of crap again? Not enough fun this morning? Do you feel like you need to go back for more?"
"No," Chris sighed. "We just don't feel like walking a couple miles, hot as it is."
"Hell, Chris, I've got a truck you know." Gordie laughed. "I could take you home."
"No kidding?" Chris looked thrilled.
"No kidding." He replied, then adding, "You too, Betsy."
"Would you mind stopping at the grade school so we could get Cassie?" Chris asked.
"No." Gordie sighed. "Of course not. Let's just go already, before we all get soaked."
Gordie's truck was bright robin's egg blue, contrasting sharply against the gray wetness of Castle Rock. Chris sat in the middle, next to Gordie, and I sat by the window, looking out as we drove down the road to the shabby grade school we'd all left behind.
Cassie was waiting at the bus stop, her shoulders hunched over, looking tired. Gordie rolled down the window, and smiled at her. "Hey little girl, could you use a ride?"
"Hey Cassie!" Chris waved at his sister. Her face lit up and she ran around to the passenger side of the truck. I opened the door and helped her up, watching as she settled in Chris' lap.
"Did you have a good day, Cassie?" Chris asked.
"Not really," She answered honestly, playing with a stray thread hanging from Chris' sleeve. "Not really, but I'm alright."
"Maybe tomorrow will be better," Gordie suggested brightly.
"Maybe." Cassie agreed, but looked doubtful.
"I'll bet Maddie's fixed some cookies." I spoke suddenly. "She likes to bake during the day when I'm gone. Probably chocolate chip cookies or oatmeal or sugar."
"Peanut butter, maybe?" Cassie asked.
"Maybe. She likes those."
It didn't take long to get there, although Gordie's driving style was slow, and patient, like maybe he was enjoying the scenery. Of course, there was no scenery to be looking at around Castle Rock, but he drove that way just the same, the windows rolled down and the radio playing softly while he and Chris talked about trivial things. It was almost pleasant. I'd made the drive with Maddie a million times before, but it was interesting suddenly.
"Maddie wouldn't mind Gordie coming in for a while, would she Betsy?" Chris asked.
"Not at all," I replied, helping Cassie out of the truck. "Gordie, you're more than welcome."