Longevity- the Wardens of Time

by Caleb Smith

  “No Ma’am.”

  “Well then, I suggest you pay attention.”

  “Yes Ma’am.”

  The frazzled teacher went on to lecture as the short-lived, under-the-tongue conversation faded out. The rest of the day went by relatively quickly, and by the time the clock read 2:30 p.m., Noah was antsy about getting a head start on his journey home. Already mapping out safe routes in his head, he quickly gathered his school belongings and whatever else he had to lump home with him. He never wanted to carry too much in fear that he would have to run with it under emergency enemy warfare. On the flip side, he had to make sure the proper materials were brought home to complete any homework assignments for the next day.

  He slid his way through the adolescent crowds undetected, but as soon as he stepped foot outside the door, all five enemies stood near the bike rack, talking and acting like young Neanderthals.

  “Oh crap,” he said to himself, as he ducked and scrambled in the opposite direction, away from all threats. Just when he thought he was in the clear, he heard a voice yell out, “You can run, but we’ll catch you.”

  Noah looked back. He was about one hundred yards out. He saw they were readying their bikes and heading his way. Not knowing what else to do, he ran up the street, around the corner, and cut in behind a house. A barking dog nearly scaring his heart straight out of his chest. He kept running until he came to another house bordered by a chain-link fence. He quickly threw his backpack over, then jumped the fence, crouching down and out of sight. In the distance, he could hear the howling voices of his predators coming closer. Throwing his pack back on his shoulders, he ran for the front of the house, leading to another street that intersected the previous one he had been on. When all looked clear, he booked it across the street and hid behind some over grown Yews lining the sidewalk. As he peeked through the evergreens, he saw the bicycle quintet turning down the street and coming toward him.

  “Oh great,” he whispered to himself, lowering his position to avoid potential captivity. He shortened his breaths and let his heart pound as they slowly clogged up the entire street in a line of metal tubing, chains, spokes, rims, and rubber.

  “Here kitty, kitty,” the ringleader spoke out with a devilish smirk eating his face. “Come out; come out, wherever you are.”

  Noah stayed put until they had ridden out of sight. He then slowly got up and moved in the opposite direction, and suddenly, there she was.

  “Hey, wait up.” He was walking at a fast clip for obvious reasons.

  “Slow down a minute. Why are you walking so fast?” she blurted out.

  “Shhh!” He yelled. “You’re going to draw attention; I need to get home. I don’t have time to talk. Sorry.”

  “Well, just wait a minute,” she insisted, and she quickened her strides to keep pace. “Why are you jogging? Was gym class not enough today? We ran the mile.”

  “Gym is different; I’m running now for my life.”

  She quickly put two and two together. “Oh, you mean those guys who give you a hard time?”

  He looked back in a sweaty panic. “Well, I guess you’re not as dumb as you look.”

  “Hey! That’s not nice,” she yelled, trying to keep up.

  “So, why do they hate you? Did you do something to piss them off?”

  “No! I’m guessing it’s because I look different, and I’m small and weak and an overall easy target for them to get their kicks. Literally.”

  “Well, how long have you been running from them?”

  “All year,” he said, stepping off the sidewalk and behind the overgrown line of trees and other vegetation that bordered someone’s large backyard.

  “You know, you shouldn’t trespass,” she yelled out, still following.

  “You don’t have to follow me,” he replied. “I’m just trying to make it home in one piece.”

  Wendy began to feel even worse for Noah, getting a firsthand glimpse of a terrified victim.

  “You know, you can probably solve all your problems, if you fought back.” This is exactly what she would do in his situation.

  Noah stopped with a cold sweat on his warm forehead, “Are you as dumb as you look?”

  She took offense and punched him in his bony arm.

  “Oww!!” he yelled out. “Not necessary.”

  “I’m not stupid,” she fired back.

  “Just leave me alone; I don’t need anybody.” He stormed off, picking up speed as the yard led to yet another street. Without paying attention, he darted out into the open road and came face to face with his five tormentors, who were still combing the streets.

  “Oh no!” He moaned.

  The ringleader, Mike Nason, replied, “That’s right! We got you now!”

  Noah ran for the closest yard and, much to his surprise, Wendy caught up with him and told him to follow her. Through several yards and over several fences they ran, the hunters close behind on the street with their bikes. Finally, Noah and Wendy came to a dead-end street. Here, there was an old house and barn, and gates that opened into a large junkyard, full of forgotten car parts and relics of the past. The property still had a “for sale” sign posted, and the garage was not yet open for business.

  “It’s OK,” she whispered, as the enemy crossed the line from the road leading to the neglected front lawn. “I live here.”

  “We’ve got you cornered now, and it looks like you have a girlfriend!”

  “Look! She’s like twice the size of him,” another yelled out. They all laughed as they crept closer on their bikes.

  “This is my property, and if you come on it I’ll call the cops.”

  “Go ahead. Call the cops. By the time they get here, both of you will be dead.”

  “Is that right?” a voice came from the front porch door.

  The door flew open and slammed off the side of the house, and a large man stepped out, followed by a younger man.

  “Now what did you little punks say you were going to do to my daughter?”

  The five-pack looked like they were on top of the roller coaster ready to hit the first low in the track. Nason didn’t have much to say. “Oh, we were just playing, Sir,” he said with his evil smile.

  “Well that didn’t sound like playing to me. Why don’t you take your bikes and beat it. I don’t want to see you around here again, and if I do, we’re going to have problems, you hear?”

  Nason didn’t reply. He said to his followers, “C’mon guys. Let’s get out of here; there is always tomorrow.”

  As the five pedaled off, Wendy’s father came storming down the front steps. “For God’s sake, Wendy. It’s only been one day, and you’re already getting in trouble.”

  She was speechless, and then the boy spoke up. “Sorry, Sir. It’s my fault. They wanted me. She was just trying to help.”

  “And who are you?”

  “I’m Noah, Sir, and I’m sorry for bringing any trouble to your home.”

  Earl Sherman took a long hard look at Noah and sighed. He knew the youngster was a victim of those bullies. All he had to do was take one look at the small, scrawny, four-eyed chap.

  “They give you a hard time, do they?”

  Noah didn’t want to answer; he just remained silent and hung his head.

  “Well, why haven’t you told your teachers?”

  “Because they said if I told, the treatment would get worse.”

  “I see, and what does your daddy say about all of this?”

  “I don’t have a dad.”

  His soft answer almost took the ground from right under Earl’s feet. He felt for the kid. They all stood in awkward silence for the next few moments until Earl cleared his throat.

  “Well, why don’t you come inside, son. Wendy has been lamenting about making new friends; it looks to me like she just found one.”

  Wendy smiled dramatically, and Noah finally felt safe enough to put his mental guard down. He followed them in the old farm house, letting the older brother lead the way.

 
Chapter 5

  By the time Noah got home that day it was nearly dark, and his mother was pacing the house like a frantic medical patient waiting to hear the worst news.

  She peered out the kitchen window and saw her son getting out of an old, beat-up pickup truck. Noah grabbed his backpack and slammed the door shut, thanking his new friends for the ride. He turned the doorknob and let himself in.

  “Where have you been Noah? I have been worried sick about you.”

  “It’s OK, Mom. I was just at a friend’s house; we went there after school.”

  “It’s seven o’clock Noah! Why didn’t you call me? I was getting ready to call the police and form a search party. This is unacceptable.”

  He had to admit it felt kind of good to have her caring so much right now.

  “Look, Mom. I’m sorry. It won’t happen again; I promise.”

  “Well, where were you? And who were those people who dropped you off?”

  “I made a new friend today in school, kind of by accident. But, anyway, we went to her house after school. She just moved here – her name is Wendy.”

  “What do you mean you met by accident?”

  “Some boys at school who don’t like me were chasing me after school. She ran with me and led me to her house – it was closer than ours was. We got there, and her father and older brother came out just as the boys were getting ready to jump on us. Her father scared them off. After that, we hung out for a while at her house and gathered some parts for her father in the junkyard. The next thing I knew, it was getting dark. Since it was getting late, Mr. Sherman offered me a ride home.”

  “Oh, Noah, what boys? What boys are chasing you?”

  He dropped his head and replied in a low tone, “The same ones who take my lunch money every day, make fun of me, spit on me, punch me, and trip me constantly.”

  His mother’s eyes turned to fire. “I’m going to your principal tomorrow, God damn it. This will stop. And then I’m going to the police. How long has this been going on, Noah? And why haven’t you said anything?”

  “Because if I say anything, the treatment will get worse.”

  “Is that what they said?”

  He didn’t want to answer, but he had never lied to anyone, and he wasn’t going to start now.

  “Yes.”

  “Why, those filthy little punks. What are their names?”

  “It doesn’t matter, Mom. This is just the way it is for me – the way it’s always been. I’m an outcast, and no one likes me. Every time we move, it’s always the same story. You don’t know because I don’t tell you. You do enough for me, working three jobs trying to support us. I don’t want your help with this, I need to figure this out myself. For the first time ever I made a friend, things are starting to look up, Mom.”

  “Noah Thomas, I will not stand by while you are bullied and picked on at school every day. I am your mother, and it is my job to protect you.”

  A switch in his mind was flicked. “No, Mom. That was Dad’s job, and he’s not here anymore!” His voice was high-pitched and shaky. The frazzled youth turned and ran to his room, slamming the door behind him, which shook the thin walls. He left his mother standing in the kitchen to wipe the rogue tears that pushed past her eyes.

  Noah sat in his room pondering what to do next. His mind was still heated with drama, and he was unsure how to proceed. Homework was a must, but the only thing he felt like doing was reading. The problem was, he had just finished a book and had not had the time to return it to the library and check out another. And all the books he owned had already been read at least three times. He needed a new adventure, but one that was out of the norm. He had been to outer space several times, followed by numerous trips to sea. He had done the desert, the Canadian wilderness, Alaska, wild rivers, and murderous lake houses. He had been a cowboy for five months straight, once. Noah had traveled the world in a hot air balloon and blazed through the African and South American jungles with just a machete. He had even been a knight at the round table and had fought evil dragons and beasts of the night. These had all been good reads, but he was ready for a different kind of adventure.

  Chapter 6

  The weekend had come frightfully quick; Noah had survived another week at Mid-Town Middle School – and a Friday the Thirteenth, to boot. Baseball tryouts had kept the pack of bullying punks occupied after hours, thus allowing Noah safe passage to and from his home. They still watched him throughout the day, and they always collected their money in the morning, but since the incident involving Wendy’s father, and since Noah and Wendy had become friends, they had toned down the threats.

  The two had started meeting up on the way to school along the path that converged their routes. The walk home was the same, except for the days that they hung out together. This usually took place at Wendy’s residence, where they walked the junkyard in search of car parts for her father in the auto graveyard. Noah enjoyed his time with Wendy; it was a way for him to get things off his chest that he could not otherwise do with his mother. It was important to him to have someone his age to talk to. He saw the value in this and took nothing for granted. He was just happy to have a friend who would listen to him, although this was not the way the others at school saw it. The poisoned little brats deemed Noah and Wendy a freak couple. They spoke in hushed voices around Wendy because she was regarded as physically unpredictable. But the two of them together were considered odd: one little intelligent, male book worm standing just over five feet tall and weighing ninety pounds on a rainy day, the other, a girl who was tall and large for her age. She could probably dominate every sport if she wanted, but would rather be working on cars. One lacked confidence, and the other exuded it and spit in the eye of convention. One was academically smart, and the other was hands-on smart. But one of the things that brought these two together as closer friends was the fact that they had both lost a parent, one to death and the other to abandonment. They discovered this fact on the first Saturday of hanging out.

  The weather was starting to get nice after April. Noah’s mother had no qualms about dropping her son off at Wendy’s house on the way to her waitress job, one of her three sources of income. Once the kids had started taking an interest in friendship, it had been just a matter of time before the parents met to put faces with names. Earl Sherman was a true gentleman with a country way of living. Evelyn Thomas was a bit shy and reserved, but grateful that Wendy and her father had taken a liking to her son.

  She slowed the car to a stop in the middle of the gravel driveway among an automotive debacle. Sun-dried dust rose all around the small, four-cylinder Honda. Since the garage and junkyard had reopened, business had been hard to keep up with. Earl had hired a part-time tow truck driver to pick up cars and relics to bring in for surgery or to find a final resting place. Both he and his boy were running the garage and repairing vehicles. Wendy had taken it upon herself to start a little business of her own selling car parts online.

  By the time the dust cleared away from the car, Evelyn had insisted that her son deliver a kiss to her right cheek before departing.

  “Ahh Mom, c’mon. They’re all there watching us, you know.”

  “I don’t care, I’m not leaving until I get one right on the cheek, buddy boy.”

  “Good Lord,” the embarrassed boy exclaimed and gave his loving mother a kiss that was quicker than one peck from a woodpecker. He rolled out of the car and slammed the door behind, waving goodbye. Evelyn rolled down the window and asked if he needed any money for the day. Noah kindly declined, saying he was all set. She left the yard leaving dust in her trail while waving goodbye.

  Noah walked over to the garage and greeted Wendy’s father, who was elbows deep underneath the hood of a car.

  “Hello, Mr. Sherman.”

  “Noah, my boy, how are ya?”

  “Good thanks. Hi Josh.”

  Josh’s reply was a question: “Noah, could you grab me that three-eighth’s-inch crescent wrench over there on the bench?”


  Noah was a stranger to tools and mechanics, but he was a very fast learner, and he had learned all the different sized wrenches after his first couple of visits to the Sherman garage. Cars and mechanics were all they ever talked about. As this was unmarked territory for Noah, he found value in learning as much as he could.

  “Sure thing, Josh, here you go.” He found the tool without challenge and handed it to Wendy’s older brother, who was lying on a creeper, working underneath another car. He stuck his oil-stained hand out for the tool with just his legs showing. Noah handed him the wrench and asked if anyone had seen Wendy.

  “She’s inside on the computer. Go in and tell her I need to see her,” Earl replied.

  “Sure thing, Mr. Sherman.”

  Noah left the garage intent on having a productive day, new friends on his mind.

  He let himself in the old farm-style house, which needed a couple of repairs here and there, but to the tender eye, it was nothing but nostalgic. The sound of the front door slamming off the light-weight wood frame reminded the young boy of a different time.

  “Wendy! Hey Wendy, you in here?”

  “I’m in here,” she shouted back.

  He followed the bellow. It led him to a small side room right off the kitchen where the desktop PC was set up on an old antique table. There sat an intent Wendy Sherman in front of the computer, striking the keyboard decisively.

  “Oh, it looks like I just got rid of another transfer case for an easy grand. Well not so easy… we still have to remove it from the ‘02 GMC Z71 that just got hauled in yesterday.”

  She looked at Noah with a smile worthy of such a sale at the age of thirteen.

  “What do you mean we?” Noah asked.

  “You and me silly. You want to make some money, or what?”

  The boy wasn’t opposed to the idea – he might be a little wet around the ears, but he was an advocate for adventure.

  “So, what do we do?”

  “We take off the part, box it up, and ship it out. Well, Dad will have to take me to the shipping store.”