The Emancipation of Nick Stokes Chapter 6
November 21st 1988
"Crap!"
As he wiped the sweat from his dripping brow, Nick could only watch as the school bus, his ride home, vanished around the corner of the street.
"Crap and double crap!"
With an angry thud he threw his back pack onto the sidewalk beside him and then followed it down, landing in an untidy heap on the sun warmed sidewalk.
Man, could this day get any worse?
As soon as he had entered the kitchen that morning, bleary eyed and seeking breakfast, he had felt his parents disapproving stares upon him. It was clear that they were both still angry about his little act of vandalism on the garage, especially his dad. However, the thing that got to him the most was the look in his mom's eyes. In their shadowed depths he could see loud and clear the message, 'I'm so disappointed in you,' and that hurt more than he was willing to admit.
From that point onwards his day had sucked. Angry and confused with both himself and his parents he had a hard time concentrating in class. When one of his teachers had called him on his lack of attention he had uncharacteristically snapped back, and smarted off. He wasn't looking forward to giving his parents the note that she had written for him to take home explaining his forthcoming detentions.
With a sigh, Nick drew himself to his feet and turned himself in the direction of home, there was no point in putting off the inevitable, he's just piss his parents off more and he was in enough trouble as it was. Thinking about his folks, Nick felt a lump of fear and shame come to his throat, and he had to swallow hard to dislodge it. Unaccustomed tears burned at the back of his eyes, but he managed to stave them off. God, he was such a screw up!
No matter how hard he tried he was never good enough, and his parents weren't slow in letting him know it. Small for his age, Nick wasn't a great athlete; too small for football, too uncoordinated for baseball, he fell short of his older brother, the team captain.
He supposed his deficiency at sports and lack of stature were some of the reasons that he wasn't all that popular, but add in the heavy framed glasses that he wore and his love of science and he couldn't deny that he was nerd material.
His one saving grace was the fact that he was smart. A straight 'A' student, he worked hard and applied himself. That however, didn't seem to even register with his parents; all his siblings were good students. They expected it of him and so an A was not to be congratulated, but expected, and there was hell to pay if he got anything less.
Nothing he did was good enough; nothing about him was special enough to make his parents notice him. The baby of the family, he felt unappreciated and unwanted. He'd overheard his parents talking once when they thought they were alone, heard them talking about how tight money was with so many mouths to feed and how he had been an accident. He hadn't really understood that particular phrase at the time, but he fully understood it now. He was a nuisance and an afterthought, surplus to requirements, neither seen nor truly heard.
Well, they had noticed him last weekend.
His father had spent most of Saturday painting their garage. In the unseasonal heat, he had toiled, restoring the drab weather worn exterior with a coat of brilliant white that strained the eye. Nick had offered to help him, but his father had forcefully refused his offer, laughingly reminding him of his small status and lack of coordination. That mocking refusal, so casually rendered had hurt more than words could say. So, Nick in an ill advised act of rebellion and frustration had waited until the following morning and then written his name in black sharpie pen, in big letters, right there on the garage door. He knew as soon as he finished that he would soon be in big trouble, but for once in his life he didn't care.
To say his father had been furious was an understatement.
For a moment, when his crime was first discovered, Nick had actually feared that his dad would hit him. Nick had seen his desire to do so written large in the clenching of his dads fists and the tight set of his jaw. His eyes had blazed with fury and despite his fear, Nick hadn't been able to suppress a smug little thought, 'Ha, you see me now!'
As if able to read his thoughts, his father had taken a step forward hand rising as if to deliver a blow and Nick had stumbled backwards a step, face averted, but no blow fell. When he dared look up again it was to see his father walk away from him, as if he wasn't worth the trouble to chastise. Nick had never felt so miserable in his entire life.
His dad didn't talk to him for the rest of that day and it was his mom who doled out his punishment. He was grounded for a month, with no TV privileges and no pocket money. He was to go to school and then come straight back home; he wasn't allowed to stay after and hang out with his friends or go to their homes.
If he strayed from the prescribed punishment, he knew it would not go well for him. That thought was very much on his mind as he stood on the sidewalk contemplating the long walk home now that he had missed his bus.
He was screwed!
He hadn't been walking for long when an old Chevy drew up to the curb just in front of him. Preoccupied as he was with his own misery, he paid it no mind until the occupant called out to him. He recognized the driver as Alissa, his latest babysitter, so he knew it was okay to speak to her. She wasn't a stranger, after all, and his mom really liked her.
"Hey, Nicky, did you miss your ride?"
Nick tried not to grimace as he approached the door of the vehicle. He hated to be called Nicky. It made him feel like a baby -- a fact that his siblings never failed to take into account when they used the name. When Alissa used it, for some reason, it made is skin crawl.
Nick didn't know what it was about the twenty-something woman that set him on edge, but ever since the first evening that she had sat for him, he's been a little uneasy around her. It wasn't anything specific; she'd never laid a hand on him or even verbally chastised him. She'd certainly never hurt him in the physical sense, but sometimes she'd get a look in her eyes when she looked at him that said she wanted to. That scared him. She scared him a lot.
Nick had tried to tell his mom about her, tried to make her understand and find another sitter, but she hadn't listened to him. Nobody ever listened to him. His mom was busy with work, pushed to the limit by court deadlines and the thousand other details of a working mom, and she had discounted Nick's apprehension as mere petulance. Alissa had come very highly recommended, and she was always reliable and respectful. There was no way she was getting rid of her; Nicky would just have to learn to put up with her.
And now, here she was.
Leaning over from the drivers seat of the old car, a bright smile lighting her face, Alissa let her gaze settle on Nick as she waited for his answer. When he told her about missing his bus, she popped the handle on the passenger door and nudged it open. "Jump in, Nicky. I'll give you a ride home," she said.
Nick didn't want to get in the car with her, but a hasty, if surreptitious scan of the surrounding area revealed no easy excuse for refusing her offer. Also, he had to admit, if he accepted her offer he'd be home on time and then his parents would never have to know about his missing his bus. Despite everything that had been going through his head, he really didn't want to get into anymore trouble right now.
With a deep breath and a reluctant smile, Nick climbed into the passenger seat and buckled up. He clutched his backpack tightly to his chest, and sat silently, looking out the window. Sunlight and shadows flittered intermittently over mundane scenery and with solemn, resigned eyes he watched the familiar streets roll by.