by Michael Vu
He took out a pack of firecrackers from his backpack.
This is how Noah came into possession of these weapons of mass destruction: His uncle in Rock Island, Illinois drove to Missouri a few times in the summer to load up on illegal fireworks. Noah stole these from his uncle’s house while he was in the garage fixing cars. His uncle was a car mechanic. He had lots of pictures of nude women on the walls.
Noah lit the firecrackers. The line whistled loudly. He chucked it to the front door. The firecrackers slammed against the front door and landed on the porch. Noah stepped back behind the bush. A fresh smile formed on his face as he covered his ears with his hands.
The fireworks exploded and popped profusely; the neighborhood echoed. The front door was covered with pink and red colors from the firework blast. A few moments later, there was commotion inside the house.
Then a light in the front window turned on. A man came to the window and looked towards his front door. He searched and scanned the area to see who lit fireworks on his front porch.
Another light turned on from the bedroom on the second floor. The window slowly opened up. It was Jenny! The most stuck up bitch at Glenview Middle School. Noah chose the wrong house! Operation Kill Joe has gone wrong; it was a complete embarrassment!
“Oh crap!” yelled Noah. He jumped on his bike, rode near a row of trees, and sped quickly away.
As Noah jetted away, he heard Jenny’s father yell:
“You boys better get the hell of here! I’m calling the police!”
Noah thought he urinated on himself. He checked, but luckily was still dry.
Noah drove his bike two streets up. He spotted his target, returned to stealth mode and decided to proceed with the operation.
Noah gingerly walked up to the house. He saw Randy and Rob in the living room playing video games. Scottie entered with a joystick in his hand.
“Nintendo Sixty-Four boys? Nice. I got a game for you,” whispered Noah.
Noah slapped his face.
“So stupid, how could you get the wrong house?”
Noah’s face grew red with anger. He thought about all the abuse he had received from these three boys. He decided that it was best to tie up three packs worth of firecrackers so that when he lit them, they would explode at once. He tied some bottle rockets into the monolithic pack too.
He checked to see what the boys were doing one last time: They were still busy playing, laughing, and eating chips. Noah wondered if they had any gold fish to eat.
He took out the matches and tried to light the line. It did not go. He started another match, but still, the line did not catch on fire. He did this until he reached the very last match.
“Last one, come on baby. Light for me. Light for me baby. Come on,” whispered Noah with his tongue out.
He lit the match and placed it to the line with a shaky hand. A wind gust passed through and blew the small flame out.
“Holy shit! No. No!”
Noah threw the match to the ground. He kicked some rocks sitting in front of the house.
“No! No!”
Frustrated, Noah picked up his bike and threw it at Randy’s front window. The front tire slammed against the large window and shook the glass, and then the bike bounced off the window and slammed right back into Noah’s body. He fell to the ground with the bike on top of him.
“Ouch.”
Randy ran to the window.
“Who is there? I said who is there? Dad? Come here!”
Randy’s dad rushed to the living room.
“What is it boys? What was that boom noise?”
“Someone threw something at the window. It looked like, like, like a fucking bike.”
Noah was on the ground holding the bike. He was just underneath the house, so nobody could see him. He started to pick himself up, when he heard a hissing sound. He looked to his left.
The fireworks!
He did light them somehow. The lit line was slowly reaching its end. Noah pushed off his bike and rushed to the fireworks. He tried to put out the line with his foot, but it continued.
Footsteps reached the front door of the house. The front light of the house turned on. Noah was exposed. He stomped and kicked the fireworks to put out the sizzling line now at the end of its life.
Noah did not know what to do. If he stood there, he would turn into firework toast, go to jail, and live the rest of his life with impaired hearing. He picked up the fireworks; it was about to go off! Noah looked around for a solution. He thought he could dump the fireworks in the driveway and make a run for it. But Randy’s family would see him jet off on his bike.
The front door started to open. In the final moment of the firecracker’s life, Noah threw the chain of fireworks at the front door. The fireworks flew past Randy’s dad and into the house.
It exploded.
Randy’s dad jumped several feet in the air in pure fear. Randy, Scottie, and Rob ducked under the couch for cover. Randy’s dad ran up the stairs and dove into the kitchen. He knocked over dishes, which fell from the counter and broke as they slammed to floor.
The explosion was so loud Randy could not hear his dad yell:
“Down, everyone down!”
Noah jumped on his bike. He made haste and scurried away quickly. As he reached the main road, he turned back and looked into the front door. A small orange ball of gas latched on the wall. The fire spread to the curtains and from a distance away, appeared brighter than a Christmas tree.
Noah drove his bike fast. His lungs struggled for air. When he reached Seventh Street, Noah saw a fire truck a mile ahead of him with lights and sirens turned on. Noah turned down a side street. He faded down a quiet alley and allowed the darkness to envelope him.
Elizabeth was in her room. She thought it was silly, that she, a twelve-year-old girl, practically a teenager, was still using a blanket that could pass for a child. She ripped off the covers and threw it in her closet. She elected to use a more subdued comforter. A plain white one would do.
Elizabeth ran to her closet. She pulled out anything remotely childlike. She reached for the purple dress, worn just days ago. She placed it into a garbage bag.
As Elizabeth crossed the kitchen towards the front door, her parents, at the dinner table having a chat with tea, asked her where she was going.
“The trash. I’m taking out the trash,” replied Elizabeth.
As she passed the kitchen, the pink lunch box she had used for a number of years crossed her sight. She grabbed the box, placed it in the garage bag and headed outside to the trash bin.
Elizabeth opened the trash bin and threw her things inside. Then suddenly, she noticed a shadow, in the shape of a human body, walking towards her.
“Who is there?” asked Elizabeth turning around.
The shadow did not answer. Elizabeth stood near the driveway waiting for the person to come close.
“Hi Elizabeth.”
“Scottie. What are you doing here?”
“I wanted to talk to you. Is that okay?”
Elizabeth cheeks flushed bright red. The blood in her body rushed to her head. Elizabeth knew she was bright red now, but was happy that the darkness concealed her embarrassment.
“What do you want?”
“I want to ask you something Elizabeth.”
“Okay.”
Scottie shifted his weight. His hands fidgeted in his pockets. He stared at Elizabeth’s bare feet.
“Will you go to the dance with me?”
Elizabeth’s face was flushed with more heat. She had never been asked to a dance before. She did not know how to dance. What would she wear? She just dumped her favorite dress into the trash bin.
The long pause forced Scottie to perspire. His eyes were wide open as he impatiently waited for an answer. Perhaps, she did not hear him, he thought.
“Elizabeth?”
“Yes?”
“Will you go with me?”
“Yeah.” Elizabeth stared at Scottie’s black shoes.
Her face was not as hot; she felt it cool down a bit. She asked: “Scottie, did Randy’s house really catch on fire by some gang?”
“Yeah. It caught on fire. I was there. I was scarred, but I ran outside ready to fight them. We thought a gang kicked down the front door and started shooting the place up. The gang must have run off quickly as the fireworks blew up the house. It was crazy. Randy’s dad started crying. He couldn’t hear out of his right ear for two days!”
“Did they ever find out who it was?”
“Nope. But the cops did find a tire mark on the front window.”
“A tire mark?” asked Elizabeth.
“Yeah, the gang was leaving their mark. The cop said it was some kind of warning or something.”
CHAPTER FOUR
Noah liked dances. Though he was too frightened to ask for a date, he managed enough courage to attend anyways. He enjoyed participating in school activities. This year, Noah was in charge of the punch.
He was dressed nicely. He wore a clean white shirt and a brown silk tie. The white dress shirt was barely tucked in his navy khakis; it was not long enough to stretch over his belly. His blonde hair was long and shabby and needed a hair cut.
Cookie was standing next to him helping fill up the empty cups. Noah poured and Cookie placed them on the table. Cookie asked:
“Dude did you see Jenny? She is so hot man.”
“She’s ok.”
“Ok? Dude, she’s like the prettiest girl in school. She’s also the school bitch, but still, man.”
“She’s also the meanest. Why are all the pretty girls so mean?”
Cookie bobbed his head to the music. He scanned the room for potential dance mates. He spotted a girl.
“Be right back dude.”
“Where you going?”
“You see that girl, with Lisa?” Cookie pointed to a girl across the room. “The one in the pink dress?”
“Yeah, I see her all the time. Who is she though?”
“Going to find out man,” replied Cookie nodding his head. “She’s on the blue team. Wish me luck.”
Noah watched his friend slowly walk across the dance floor. He passed a crowd dancing and finally reached his destination. Cookie, relative to his target dance mate, was fairly short. The girl in the pink dress looked at Cookie with an embarrassed look.
Cookie’s mouth moved. Noah tried to read his lips. Then, Cookie started to dance. He threw his arms in the air; he placed his hands on his sides and shook his body in small circles.
Lisa and the girl in the pink dress stood there staring. They giggled a bit and then scooted away from Cookie. Cookie stood there dancing by himself for a bit, not realizing that he was unsuccessful in finding a dance partner.
Moments later he returned to Noah. Cookie said:
“They didn’t want to dance with me.”
Lisa started to giggle as she watched Cookie back at the punch table. She turned her attention back to her friend.
“I love that pink dress Elizabeth. Where did you get it?”
“Thanks. My mom and I went to the mall yesterday. We got it on sale, can you believe it?”
Elizabeth turned her head and looked over towards the punch table.
“What was that little boy doing?”
The girls started to laugh. Erica joined the group with a cup of punch. Erica looked at Elizabeth and asked:
“Where’s Scottie?”
Scottie was nowhere to be found. He agreed to meet Elizabeth at the dance.
“I don’t know, he said he’d be here later.”
“You’re so lucky. Are you going to be his girlfriend?” asked Lisa.
Elizabeth’s face turned bright red. She needed a drink to cool her blushed face down and to deflect the attention placed on her.
“I don’t know. Let’s get something drink.”
The girls started for the punch table, when Lisa held the group back. They watched as Cookie walked away and then proceeded to the table. As the girls approached the table, Elizabeth asked:
“Who is that in the white shirt, the chubby blonde boy filling up the cups? I see him all the time, but I don’t know who he was?”
“That’s Noah Spence,” responded Erica.
Elizabeth shook her head.
“Never heard of him.”
The three girls reached the table. Lisa and Erica took cups of red punch. Elizabeth was empty handed. She gazed at Noah as he poured her a cup.
He handed her a full cup with a smile. She returned his smile, turned her back to him, and chatted with her friends.
Cookie returned from the restroom break. He rushed to Noah’s side and whispered:
“Dude, the girls came looking for me? Man! Why didn’t you wave to me to hurry up?”
“Cookie, I think they just wanted punch.”
Cookie paid no attention to Noah’s words. He walked around the punch table and started to chat with Lisa and Erica.
Noah started to giggle. He has always appreciated his friend’s short-term memory. Noah understood his friend to be one of the funniest, most loyalist person he has ever known. He enjoyed his company.
Scottie approached Cookie from behind.
“What are you doing? Get out of here shrimp!”
Rob and Randy walked up and stood behind Scottie.
“Sorry man,” said Cookie.
Cookie started to walk away from the group. Groups of students near watched to see if an explosion would occur.
“Hey you. Hey Cookie.”
Cookie turned around. Scottie motioned Cookie with his index finger to come.
“Get me a glass of punch. Now,” said Scottie.
“No way man.”
Lisa intervened. She told the group of boys to leave Cookie alone. This enticed them. Scottie grabbed Cookie by the back of his shirt. He yanked it up towards the ceiling.
“I said, get me a glass of punch!”
Scottie released Cookie’s shirt. Cookie walked to the punch table, picked up a cup, and walked back to Scottie.
“Here you go Scottie,” said Cookie softly.
Scottie extended his right hand to receive the cup, when Cookie turned the cup slightly down and pushed out the liquid into Scottie’s face.
Students erupted loudly with laughter. Elizabeth covered her smiling face with her hands.
Scottie stood there with a wide-open mouth. Cookie stared at him, then at the crowd; he embraced the chatter and laughter. It energized him. When he looked back at Scottie, he lost his cheerful face.
Scottie was red with anger. Scottie clenched his fists. He charged Cookie and slammed him hard to the ground.
Noah ran around the punch table. He took two cups of punch, ran up to Scottie and threw both cups of punch into his face.
“My eyes! My eyes! Someone threw fucking punch in my eyes!”
When Scottie fell off Cookie and on to the ground, Noah kicked him in the groin area.
“My balls! My balls!” yelled Scottie.
Noah helped Cookie to his feet.
Rob and Randy charged in. Noah pushed Cookie to run in the opposite direction. Lisa yelled:
“Leave them alone Rob! Randy, stop!”
But the boys charged after their prey. Cookie and Noah only got a few feet away when they were grabbed from behind and thrown to the ground.
The beat down lasted a full three minutes before the adults reached them.
It was a dark and cloudy night. The park was deserted. The tree branches swayed back and forth from the gusting winds. The swings moved back and forth with no passengers. Noah was sitting in the center of the merry-go-round as Cookie pushed it.
Noah tried to comb his estranged hair now flowing up in all directions. His white shirt was tinted yellow and brown from the dirty floor. Cookie did not fare well either for his nose swelled up to the size of a golf ball.
“Thanks Noah.”
“For what?”
“Man, for getting beat up with me.”
“Sure. Wasn’t the fi
rst time and it won’t be the last. You’ve done the same for me many times.”
Noah’s left nostril was plugged up with tissue, which was now a dark red color.
“It’s getting late,” said Cookie. “I better get home. You ready to go?”
“No, I think I am going to stay here for a bit.”
“Ok. See you later man.”
Cookie jumped on his bike. He rode away and faded into the darkness like a phantom gliding away on its horse.
Noah readjusted himself, stood up and walked up to the slide. He climbed the stairs to the top and sat down with his legs extended down the slide. He sat there for several hours staring up at the cloudy sky.
He waited for the sun to rise.
When Noah returned home, the sun was quickly making its way up to into the sky. He changed out of his white shirt, now stained with dark hues of red, when the home phone rang. It was odd to have a call at such an hour on a Sunday.
“Hello?” there was no answer. “Hello?”
The person on the other line was a girl, with a sweet, low toned voice. It was not clear exactly what she wanted. Her voice was distant and slow; it was as if she were waiting to be entertained by the person receiving the call.
“May I ask who is calling?” asked Noah.
The girl responded with a no. There was a slight pause on the line, and then the girl said:
“I’d like you to tell me about yourself.”
Noah was reluctant at first. He thought it was a friend from school pulling a prank on him, but he knew nobody would call at such an early hour.
Noah was amused by her random call. He sat down on his bed, and began discussing things insignificant. But then the girl asked to know something unique of him; something nobody knew so that if one day she should pass by him on the street, she might be able to recognize him and say hello.
“Well, I can’t sleep. I haven’t slept in years. I’ve never told anyone that before.”
There was a pause. The girl asked him to continue.
“I don’t know why I can’t sleep. I forgot what it’s like actually. Sometimes I close my eyes and pretend I can sleep. But nothing happens. I just keep thinking and thinking about things. It kind of, well, it kind of tires me out a bit. You know?”
Noah giggled as he listened to the murmurs. With a laugh he said:
“Actually, it’s wonderful to never sleep. I have a lot of time to read, do my homework, or play with Alice – my neighbor’s dog. She’s a pretty dog. But sometimes it makes me tired. Not tired like sleepy tired. But tired like I don’t want to think anymore. I’m jealous of people who can sleep sometimes. They get to go to places I can’t go to anymore.”