The town of Sidney was a quiet one. It always had been. But there's the occasional party thrown by the town's country folk every Friday if, of course, they had the time, money, and, naturally, the beer.
It was Wednesday and the week was only halfway behind them. But this week, everyone had something to look forward to. Everything they needed for a killer barbecue was ready and set to go. There was nothing in the world that would stop them from throwing "The Big One", as most of the folks called it. Almost the entire town was going to be there and Jed was someone who wouldn't miss it for anything.
Jed was a regular. Sixteen, no hair, strong country accent, balls the size of boulders, chewing "Tabacci" wherever he went, one of those kids that you'd probably want to stay away from. But at the same time, he was a huge benefactor in the preparations.
Like his father, he would get trashed, sometimes to the point of impending death. But he had enough experience to know when to stop.
His ecstasy was through the roof. This was the only time that he could get drunk as hell and not get in trouble for it. But in his rapturous excitement, he didn't know when to stop his acts of stupidity. This wasn't usual for him. Even though he was always a bully and had a fine reputation of it, nobody took too much mind because it was all fun and games.
This time he'd gone too far.
Wednesday, 12:15. The bell for lunch rang with a muffled pitch. Soon after, the students of the high school oozed out of their seemingly endless class. But not Jed. He was happy as a jaybird, like Jenna Jameson asked him for a night of hot steamy sex on the beach or something. He almost skipped as he made a mad dash to the school cafeteria. With a burst of excitement, he jumped up and thwacked an unsuspecting Jeserah with his binder. He landed and turned, facing his victim.
" 'Sup bitch!" He shouted with his mouth open wide, revealing the chew that he had hidden in his bottom lip.
That's when it all started.
Jeserah was the only kid in his junior year who wouldn't graduate until his twenties. But he hid from the world his true genius, always keeping to himself, never wanting to strike up conversation with other students. He had a reputation as full as a church on Tuesday. But unlike many of the country kids he was surrounded by, he wasn't quick to anger. After the attack, he just picked up his books and made the rest of the way to his locker.
In the cafeteria, the stench of tuna surprise lingered in the air. Conversations were everywhere, blending into one loud buzz of confusion.
Jed sat with his friends at a table far to the back. He had a heaping plate of the reeking concoction of tuna and God knows what else, but he was too busy to eat, rallying about this Friday.
Jeserah sat where he usually did, alone in a corner of the room. He had his morning homework sprawled out in front of him, more than halfway done with it all.
All of a sudden, something exploded all over the table, drenching him and his work.
"Sorry fag!" Jed yelled, "thought you were hungry!" His little posse giggled at the comment more than the action itself.
Jeserah could only scrape what he could off of his chemistry pages and loose-leaf paper. He'd have to do it again when he got home.
Just as he thought, the bell rang not even a minute later. It was off to American History class, subject of the day: The Great Fire of Chicago.
3:17. Jeserah unlocked the door to his home and welcomed himself in.
"Hello?" he called. He could hear his mother's salsa music in the kitchen. He hated the sound of it, but it brought him a sort of comfort that eased him of pain.
"In here hon. How was school?" Her voice traveled over Felipe Rodriguez's.
"Fine," he called back. "School was just school as usual, educational and whatnot."
His mother giggled.
"Alright. Dinner's at five. Okay with you?"
"Sarigh' for me." He said with a phony Puerto Rican accent, trying to cheer himself up.
"Oh yeah, before I forget, I was mandated for overtime today so I won't be home till eleven tomorrow night. Can you handle yourself alone?"
"Yeah, I'll be fine."
"Ok, love ya!"
"Love you too."
He briefly forgot about the day's events, but when he walked into his room, it all came back to him. He put Slipknot into his CD player and tried as best as he could to concentrate on his homework.
Thursday morning, 8:45. The bell rang with a little more spunk. Jeserah and Jed were in the same homeroom together and unfortunately for Jeserah, they sat across from each other.
As the announcements were pouring forth meaningless information, Jed leaned over.
"Hey fag," he whispered, "I f***ed your mom last night. She was great. I bet you like it too, right?"
Jeserah ignored him. "Come on, you know you like it as much as I do."
Jeserah closed his fists, but he knew he couldn't take him. And even if he could, he was too timid. He had to force himself to further disregard.
Jed retreated, satisfied with himself.
It was that time again, 12:15.
Jeserah made himself comfortable, getting his homework out and laying it across the table. Today's lunch was hot dogs and hamburgers. Solid foods that wouldn't make too much of a mess, and would only bounce a couple of times if anything. Even so, he kept his guard, looking up from his work every couple of minutes. To his relief, nothing came flying from across the room that day.
The bell rang. It was another day of history class. More fire.
2:12. the signal for the last class of the day.
Jeserah found his way to locker 217. He swapped "US History 11" for "Universal Science: Physics and You".
Without warning, Jed came up from behind him and yanked down his JNCO jeans, revealing the maroon boxers he wore underneath. Jed then slapped his behind.
"See ya tonight cutie," he mocked, fluttering his eye lashes.
Jeserah must have turned forty different shades of red. He couldn't handle this shit anymore. He pulled up his pants and made his way to the principal. A place that he'd never been to for this reason.
The door of the main office came opened silently, but the silence was disrupted when the 'You're late for class!' bell rang. Jeserah walked in and sat in the closest seat he could find. The secretary was on the phone and it didn't look like she wasn't going to talk anytime soon, like she was on hold.
"Can I talk to the principal?" he asked casually.
The secretary nodded and pointed to the door behind her, signaling that Mr. Mule was free. Jeserah made his way to the door labeled "Principal".
Inside, Mr. Mule was scribbling away as some papers. Standing in front of the desk, Jeserah made himself known.
"Excuse me," he said politely.
Mule looked up. "Hey, how can I help ya? Take a seat if you like," he said with a smile, making his bushy mustache straighten. Like all the others, he had a strong country accent.
Jeserah pulled up a seat and leaned over with his elbows on his knees.
"Sir," he began, "I need your help. See, there's this student, Jed-"
"Jed McGraw?" Mule interrupted.
"Yeah, he's been harassing me since yesterday, and I'm really starting to get tired of it."
"Oh, Jed wouldn't do that," he said reassuringly "He's a good boy, he is."
"What?"
Jeserah was shocked "Dude, he pulled down my pants in front of everyone and slapped my ass!"
Mule's face suddenly became stern.
"I don't like it when people like you raise your voice like that," Jeserah's expression went from concerned to enraged.
"People like what? You know what, fuck this."
"Young man you have no right to cuss like that!"
Before he finished his sentence, Jeserah had already escorted himself from the office.
There was no way that he would go through another day without justice, no matter what the cost. He wasn't going to put up with this nonsense. And when you diss a Puerto Rican for his heritage, the bad only gets ugly.
Instead of going to his final class, he left the school, jumped into his car, revved the motor and sped out of the school parking lot.
"No more," he mumbled to himself as he hit 85 MPH on the country road with an angry foot on the gas. "Not one more f***ing day of this shit. I promise." His mind began to swell. He was finally going to put his true genius to work.
It was Friday. The day that Jed would party till his brain flooded with booze. Not wanting to spoil the moment, he hunted for Jeserah in the hallways. But he couldn't find him anywhere. Could he care less? No, he'd definitely find him in homeroom.
8:47 came around the corner but still there was no sign of him anywhere. Jed had no one to screw around with. He went through homeroom, lunch and dismissal without an ounce of pre-party fun.
Jed left the school disappointed. He made his way to his beat up Ford truck. As he came into range with it, he noticed something flapping on the windshield. He took it from the wiper and read it aloud to himself.
"Drive Extremely Appropriately Dear," he said.
Being who he was, he overlooked the fact that the first of each letter spelled out DEAD.
He crinkled it up and tossed it aside.
The rusted hinges of the old P.O.S. made the door screech profanely as it swung open.
What Jed saw next was painfully obvious.
The bloody corpse of a beagle lay ensanguined on the torn up seat. On the dash-board, the words "In Flames" were written in blood.
"Bowser!" cried Jed, "Oh shit! Who the f*** did this to you!?"
Jed wasn't sure what to do. He picked the dog's limp body up and put it in the other seat. In order to drive, he had to sit in the dog's blood. He took out his keys and started the truck holding fast to the wheel, but it was slick and wet. Jed looked at his hand and saw it covered with a thick layer of warm red ooze.
The truck roared as it pulled away from the parking lot at a high speed. He made his way home, more pissed than miserable. Because of this, he'd have to miss everything, he thought to himself.
His house was coming into view now. Of course anyone's instinct would be to step on the brakes, and naturally, that's what he did. But he wasn't stopping. He pressed harder and harder on the brakes but there was no result. In hesitation, he pulled up the emergency brake, but it came off in his hand with the slightest touch. Someone sawed it off, leaving it to hang by a thread.
Jeserah looked out of his window to the manic vehicle as it made its way to the three-way intersection at an unstoppable speed. His view from the top of the hill was perfect, not far enough to miss, and not close enough to hear.
"Three, two, one..." he counted to himself silently.
After he called the last digit, the rusty old ford truck smashed into the guard-rails on its side in a desperate attempt to stop, making it tumble a countless amount of times. After the second bounce, the truck burst into flames, and then completely exploded seconds later, leaving anything and everything in a white hot inferno that virtually melted everything it touched.
Jeserah was happy to know that the laws of physics, chemistry, and a teeny bit of history came to good use.
Maybe he'll feel remorse for what he'd done in the future, but for right now, he wanted to exult in his own victory.
The End
Linear Mode
