by C. A. Saari
THINGS THAT GO BUMP At NIGHT
C. A. SAARI
Things That Go Bump At Night
Copyright ©2015 by Carla (C.A.) Saari
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are products of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
To Tom, Trevor, Lucas and Hannah
Thanks for welcoming my fictional family into our home.
Special thanks to readers of books. All books, any book, every book.
Thank you, because without you, this book wouldn’t exist.
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Part
1
And so it begins...........
1
I stepped out of the edge of the woods and stopped, heaved a sigh as I looked out at the world in front of me. My world, my lame, sucky world.
First day of my senior year.
I looked back over my shoulder at the woods behind me, it separated my trailer park from the park, and across the street from the park, my school.
Or maybe my hell. They were one in the same, weren’t they?
Well, technically what was on the other side of those trees was a hell in itself.
So…my life, essentially, was a living hell.
Yay for me.
I tugged my backpack further up my shoulder and trudged down the hill and through the small park with its scattering of cement picnic tables and a plastic play set for the little kids. I used to play on that set. Time to assume the position. I ducked my head as I crossed the street. I made eye contact with no one, tuned out the excited chatter of the other students reuniting with friends and comparing class schedules. I had no friends. I was what you’d call a loner.
“Hey!” someone crashed into me, bounced off me, and then settled in to skip into school next to me. “I see you didn’t spend this summer shopping. Isn’t that the same outfit you wore to the first day of school last year?”
Okay, I had one friend. But for the life of me I couldn’t figure out why she was my friend. I looked through my hair curtain –the one that would hide my face for the next nine months as I hurried, hunched over of course, through the halls of this hallowed ground- at the petite little bubbly blond next to me. She grinned back at me through the curtain, her lips pink with gloss, her mascara thick as always, her green eyes twinkled.
“Awww, and I didn’t think you’d notice.” I said, slightly sarcastically, but there was no mistaking the affection in my voice. I really liked Kendra.
She was, of course, the prettiest girl in school. By far the most popular. Blond, petite and captain of everything she did, and she only dated the captains of everything else. I had asked her once why she was my friend. She had looked at me like I had cut her deep and said if she wanted to hang out with a yes man then she’d go find one of her other friends. And yes, she used her fingers as quotation marks as she used the word friends. I must have looked at her like she was crazy because she went on to further explain that she liked that I didn’t bullshit her (her words, not mine. I try not to cuss, I hear enough of that at home), and that if she one day grew a huge boil on her face that learned how to talk all her other friends (finger quotes again) would drop her like a bad fashion trend. But I would always like her, because I was a good friend like that. And it was important to always have at least one friend who would be there through all the bullshit (bullshit was her most favorite cuss word).
And Kendra was that friend for me. For anyone else, being seen with me meant social suicide. But Kendra was the exception to every rule in the book. She could do whatever she wanted. No one looked at her sideways for her friendship with me. And she wouldn’t even care if they did.
I loved that about her.
I’m sure her other “friends” just assumed I was her good deed for life anyway. But, having Kendra in my corner kept the wolves at bay. Sure, they sneered at me and laughed at me when she wasn’t around, but it could also be worse. At least they’d stopped throwing things at me since she’d became my friend two years ago –going on three now.
I peeked at her outfit quick. It was not the same one she wore the first day of school last year…not that I remembered what she wore last year, but I knew that Kendra didn’t wear the same outfit twice in the same month. Skinny jeans were in –a fashion trend I absolutely hated, they were ridiculous, especially when boys began wearing them. They laughed at me behind my back, but I laughed just as hard behind theirs. Boys+skinny jeans= RIDICULOUS- but Kendra pulled them off. She paired this particular dark pair with a pink sparkly tank that just covered her mid-drift. School regulation…barely.
Myself, well, let’s just say I was wearing the same jeans I wore to the first day of school last year. They were faded and nearly had holes worn in the knees. My gray t-shirt did every single thing in its power to hide that fact that I was a girl. As a matter of fact, even with my curtain of long dark hair, I think my gender was still debatable to most.
It wasn’t really –debatable I mean, everyone knew I was a girl- but that was what Kendra’s flock of followers had started when we were just in the ninth grade and for the past three years –soon to be four- I was referred to as “Sheman” (get it? He-Man? Cartoon from our parents’ generation…only they put an S in the front. Hardy har har. Kids can be so clever, can’t they?). It was funny…to everyone but me. But I pretended it didn’t bother me. Like I pretended most things didn’t bother me.
“I really wish you wouldn’t do this to yourself, Remi.” Kendra murmured.
Here we go.
“I didn’t do it.” I glanced out at the waves of kids pushing their way through the halls. The painted cement block walls already covered in football posters, since the season had started a month before school did. Go Wolves. “They did.”
“Yeah, well, you let them.” Kendra scolded. Then she rolled her eyes, it was an old subject. “Fine. Be that way.”
“Thanks for your permission, but I would be anyway.”
She rolled her eyes again, but let it drop.
“What’s your first class?” We stopped at our lockers. That’s how we became friends. Our last names were next to each other in the alphabet, mine being Dexter and hers being Detmer. So our lockers had ended up right next to each other as well. Two years ago she and her cronies had been blocking my locker, and even after a polite “excuse me” on my part they had no intention of moving. So, not a big one for words, I’d simply pushed my way through causing one girl to fall on her butt. Kendra had laughed so hard that I thought her and the “fallen one” wouldn’t be friends anymore. They were though. The fallen friend was more than willing to overlook Kendra’s insult to ensure her spot in the circle.
Kendra had told me, right in front of her friends and between hoots of laughter that she liked me and we should be the greatest of friends.
And that had been that. I had initially ignored her, assuming that this was a set up for public humiliation, but the girl kept at it and dang if I hadn’t melted by the end of the year. She was persistent, I had to give her that. Her friends never came around, but they were willing to overlook Kendra’s poor social choices.
“English.”
Kendra pouted those perfect pretty lips.
“I’m in the science wing. I really wish you would have done yo
ur schedule with me, I bet we don’t have any classes together.”
“Kendra, you did your schedule with fifty other girls, it’s not like you’ll be all by your lonesome.”
“True that. Still, though. You’re the only one smarter than me. Who am I going to copy off of?”
I laughed. Kendra didn’t need anyone to copy off of, she was a good student, but I loved her for trying.
“I’ll see you later, Okay?” I said after I tried my locker combo. Not that I stuffed my backpack into it. I carried that with me everywhere, it felt like kind of a shield for me. I know, how dorky could I get?
“Yeah. Sit with me at lunch?” She asked as I walked away.
“You’ll know where to find me.” I called back and ignored the looks that shot my way. I never raised my voice. I’m sure most of these kids didn’t even know what I sounded like. Except in choir of course. My only extracurricular activity. I didn’t like public…well, public anything, but I liked singing. Actually, I loved it. And I was good at it. And despite everything about me that people found repulsive, no one had ever teased me about my singing. Not once. No one ever praised me for it either –well, except my choir teacher Ms. Nelson, but then she didn’t count because the kids picked on her just as much as they did me I think- but for whatever reason, the whole of the student body had decided to let me have this one thing without ruining it for me. And for that, I was forever grateful.
I hurried into my English class, avoiding physical contact with every single person on the way, and slid into the seat in the far back corner. I’d be the last one out as well, but again, I would avoid physical contact with everyone. Kendra’s words bounced around in my head; “I really wish you wouldn’t do this to yourself.” I almost scoffed –yes, I scoffed often, I was very sophisticated that way-. I certainly didn’t do this to myself. I had some obvious marks against me not only as a student but as a member of our ritzy little community. I was poor, there was no question about that. I lived in the only trailer park in what people called the “nice” side of town –a suburb of Portland called Webber- Years ago, city council had tried to move the trailer park into the school district with the other trailer parks, but the petition had been vetoed. I guess in order to move us to a different district, the “nice” neighborhood adjacent would have had to move as well. Well the richy riches were having none of that. So they kept us, and we became the students that all the rich kids looked down on. Every school needed that group, right? Well, unfortunately for me, I was even looked down on by my own kind –because they needed someone to look down on too, right? I had moved with my father from Northern Oregon after my mother had passed away the summer before my freshman year. She had been our bread winner. My father –that was using the term loosely- was on disability and drank his checks. But my grandmother had left us a trailer home, and since mom wasn’t around to make sure the rent was paid, we had been evicted from our apartment.
Thank God for the grandmother I had never met.
Unfortunately I wasn’t welcomed in my new home. I had had a growth spurt that summer, I hit five seven before school even started so I was taller than all the other girls in class and even some of the boys –of course eventually the boys had grown taller than I, and even some of the girls. But the damage had been done. I had awful clothes, before freshman year had started, dad –in a rare sober moment, though even sober he was mean- had picked up a box of good will clothing and most everything inside the box belonged to a boy, and were too big for me. But we work with what we have right? I tried, but my fate had been sealed before I had even taken my first seat in my first class at my new school –and now as a senior so close to leaving this place it seemed pointless to draw more attention to myself by changing my sense of style now.
I had also started slouching to hide my height and that too had become a habit. And my long, straight hair had always hidden my face. I bet the school in its entirety didn’t even know my eye color. It was blue, by the way. My mother had used to tell me my eyes were beautiful. I missed her.
But the hair curtain had become necessary, my dad was a hitter. He usually avoided the face, for reasons obvious to even him. But every once in a while, he just couldn’t help himself, that or his aim was off because he was just too drunk to properly see where he was swinging.
So, maybe it was best people didn’t look at me too closely. Pity was a dish of humiliation even worse than what I got served every day.
“I said hi.”
I was pulled out of my head with a start. Was someone talking to me? I looked through my curtain, and nearly choked on my own breath.
Jake Wagner –no, his name was not short for Jacob, it was just Jake, how cool was he?- was looking directly at me. I know I don’t cuss, but holy shit. Jake Wagner was the king of kings. A new boy himself just last year, he immediately fell into the role of “the guy who was good at everything”. And he was even good at looking good. Kendra would die right now if she knew he was talking to me, they ran in the same circles, but he dated no one. At least no one in this school. Sure, he always brought some lucky girl from their circle to dances and whatnot, but he wasn’t one known for dating. It should have been considered weird, but apparently nothing this boy did was weird. And Kendra was so beyond in love with him, and I didn’t blame her. He was beautiful. Did I just call a boy beautiful?
I peeked at him through my curtain again, he smiled. Yeah, he was definitely beautiful. He was tall. Very tall, six feet or so –more so- and so many muscles he would have been frightening if he hadn’t been labeled the all American boy by…well, I wasn’t sure who labeled him that, but someone did. He had dark hair, dark eyes, white teeth, and those chiseled features you only saw in pictures. He even had that dark five o clock shadow that drove girls wild –even me I’ll admit to no one but myself. Hell, I’m not even going to admit it to myself-. And did I mention he had muscles? Well, he does. And his t-shirts could attest to it because they probably screamed in protest every time he pushed those finely tuned biceps through the sleeves.
Why was he talking to me?
And why couldn’t I breathe?
“I’m Jake.” He said after he realized I wasn’t planning on talking back. He stuck his hand out and I reflexively flinched back. I saw concern flash over his face before the smile returned. “And I don’t bite. Often.” He grinned again, at his own joke I’m sure.
I gulped, which I was positive everyone heard because now the class was absolutely silent, having noticed that their supreme ruler was talking to the troll that sat in the corner. If this was a pity gesture I would surely cry. I looked to him again, but still ignored his outstretched hand. There didn’t seem to be any pity in his eyes.
Thank God for small miracles.
And dang it, why couldn’t I breath yet?
“Remi.” I practically whispered and averted my eyes again. Breath girl, in out in out. You can do it. I had the urge to look at him again, but I fought it. I felt a warm tingle start at my ears and work its way down to my toes. What in the world was that?
“Remi.” He said it a couple more times, his voice a low rumble. “Do you mind if I sit here?”
“I’m not the seat police. Sit where you want.” I mumbled.
A small chuckle. Hmm, he thought I was funny?
“Good to know.” He settled back in his seat and favored me with one more smile before turning his attention to the teacher who graced us with his presence five minutes late. This entire interlude could have been avoided if the fat little man had just been on time. That was mean. I should know better than most by now that it wasn’t nice to pick on those worse off than yourself.
But I couldn’t help it, embarrassment drove people to do bad things.
Thankfully though, everyone else had to advert their attention to the front of the room as well. Thank God for the seat in the corner. I couldn’t imagine the embarrassment if I had chosen the first seat in the front row closest to the door. These people could have stared at me for the entire f
ifty minutes of class!
The bell rang and I slowly gathered my things, waiting for the class to clear out. They’d all have to go to their lockers and I could race right to the next class and get the seat in the back again. Thank you very much, backpack. You rock!
“It was nice to meet you.” Jake said. I looked up surprised. He hadn’t left?
My curtain of hair fell away with my jerky movement and his deep brown eyes got a good view of my baby blues –not that they were actually baby blue, they were more of a cerulean., which was the color of a calm sea, my mother used to tell me- and he actually looked a bit taken aback. Was that a compliment? Or did my face throw him off? Mom never called me pretty, just my eyes.
Oh why did I care what this boy thought?
He blinked a couple times and smiled again, like the weird moment hadn’t happened.
“Maybe we’ll have another class together.” He said softly.
“Oh, I sure hope so, now that we’re besties and all.” I hiked my backpack over my shoulder and moved past him. WHY was he talking to me? Had someone put him up to it? Was I being set up for some cruel joke? Jake wasn’t known around school as being a jerk, a tough guy that you didn’t mess with maybe, but not a jerk. Even so why would he chose today to talk to me? It was so random it was suspicious.
I’d made it safely to my next class and got my favorite seat, but my cell chirped at me as I settled in –yes, I worked to pay a cell bill, what teenager didn’t have one? Even if the only number in it was Kendra’s. And sure enough, her name popped up on the screen. I opened her text message.
OMG! Jake TALKED 2 u??? U must with all pos haste giv me deets!!!
I sighed. Of course that had gotten around already. It’d probably been texted, tweeted and YouTubed before the first five minutes of English was up.
I thumbed out a quick reply before students began filing in, cell phones were strictly prohibited during class.