Hey sorry for the delay, I've had a really busy past week. Hopefully things should cool off soon. Anyway here are the next three chapters. I'm not too sure about them, in some ways I think that maybe in these chapters I kind of lost my focus or whatever you would call it… Hope you guys enjoy them though, and as always thanks to all my reviewers. I *heart* everyone. Take care.
Walking Through The Storm.
As Gordie walked back to school it began to rain. He found he was pleased. The rain suited his mood. He paused in the middle of Durham Road and just let the rain wash over him. It soaked through his t-shirt in seconds and it was only later that he realised this made his escape extremely obvious. The rain hit the sidewalk and bounced up. It was violent rain and it pounded down on the metal roof of the bus stops making a musical 'piiing piiing' sound. The clouds were dark and ominous as they rolled in.
Gordie felt a weird sense of satisfaction at the weather. It was as if the universe had noticed and reacted to his depression. The rain washed away the sticky heat of the fall day and in some ways Gordie felt released. He walked back to school, kicking up the puddles and sticking his tongue out like a little kid to taste the rain. Sometimes it was good to pretend to be about ten again.
He tried to push the argument with Chris to some far reached place in his mind. He wanted to file it away in that little corner of his brain he usually reserved for Denny and his parents. He didn't want to think about it. He felt he could cope if he could just banish those thoughts to another time. He wasn't successful. Like with those black thoughts about Denny, the argument with Chris swam in his brain and hit him right between the eyes as the clouds overhead launched a lightning bolt down towards the earth. Everything was angry today.
After Gordie had left, Chris had planned on going back into the MacKenzie's house but he no longer felt like a welcome guest. Jillian's mom regarded him with something a little like hate and more like intense distaste. So it was that Chris found himself leaving after apologizing profusely and thanking Jillian for her help. He was walking home when the heavens opened. The rain was no relief; it hit him and made every bruise and cut throb. He held his breath and tried to will it away but the pain in his ribs was fierce and sent long waves of agony over him. He was scared of what he would find at home but there was no other choice. He braced himself against the storm and with one arm curled protectively over his ribcage he began to jog.
As he jogged, Chris went over every word he had said to Gordie. He felt sadness but in some quiet way as if it had been inevitable. He hoped that Gordie would realise that Chris was not turning his back on him. Chris wanted Gordie to be free of his burden. He had seen how things worked at school. How the teacher looked on him with distrust and on Gordie with a sense of confusion. Why was this smart, sensitive kid, friends with one of those no-good Chambers boys? He had seen it on the face of every teacher he'd had in high school. Sometimes Chris found himself wondering the very same thing. Though he already missed Gordie, he hoped that this sacrifice (or whatever you would call it) would eventually help Gordie.
Now Chris wasn't giving up on college courses. No way. No how. He was going to finish them, he was going to pass and he was going to graduate. No matter what shit happened in his life Chris was going to get the hell out of Castle Rock. The thought of moving somewhere where nobody knew him filled Chris with comfort.
He also did not mean to give up on Gordie. He would still be there in the background for Gordie always, but by stepping away it meant that Gordie would no longer have the burden of Chris' problems occupying his mind.
Chris had reached his house. He paused just outside the front door and shook the water from his hair and eyes. He shivered despite the heat. His dad was behind that door. He could feel it. Chris took a deep breath, which sent a stab to his ribs. Finally he reached for the door and swung it open. First the rusty screen door, which hung from its hinges like some wounded soldier. Then he opened the front door.
"I'm home," he called.
There was no answer.
