Helios Beginnings (The Helios Chronicles #0.5)

by Tawa M. Witko

  Andrew flipped opened the book and chewed on his lip. “An eclipse,” he wondered aloud.

  Last night when he had awoken from his nightmare, the one that seemed to haunt him the most, it had been the only image that popped into his mind. By the time he was done, he had drawn at least six of them. Now that he knew it had a name, it seemed like a fitting choice considering what he was trying to cover up.

  “How soon can we talk to Steve?” Andrew asked the minute Ben walked back into the room.

  Ben rubbed his eyes again and shrugged. “I guess we can look for him today. I know where he hangs out but you know, he ain’t gonna do it today. That shit,” he motioned towards the dried blood on Andrew’s chest. “It’s gotta heal before he puts a gun to it.”

  Andrew nodded and closed his book again. “I know but I want to talk to him. Get it set up.”

  “Alright, well, get dressed man. You know we gotta be down there in fifteen minutes or they won’t let us go nowhere.”

  “Yeah, I know.”

  Andrew stood up, carefully pulling on a t-shirt. He ran his hands through his unruly hair trying to tame it without actually brushing it. He slipped on his worn pair of hand-me-down Nikes and followed Ben out of the room. He would abide by all the rules he needed to so that he would not be deterred before he could get this tattoo. This was not a want for him. It was a need brought about by desperation; desperation to forget the horrors of his past. He just hoped it did the trick.

  Helios, age 16

  “Holy Shit! Harrison, what the fuck happened to your back?”

  Andrew quickly pulled his shirt over his head and turned to the kid in his room. “Why the fuck do you care?” Andrew belted out, already prepared to fight.

  “Fuck you, I was just curious,” Robbie said as he sat down.

  “Do I ask you why the fuck you sleep with the damn light on?”

  Robbie looked up and glared in Andrew’s direction. That didn’t frighten Andrew one single bit. He glared right back, staring down the boy who he shared a room with. Robbie was a small kid. A year younger than him but he looked like he was only 12. He and Andrew did not get a long in the slightest. Robbie asked too many unwanted and unnecessary questions. He was too nosy for Andrew’s liking.

  “EXACTLY!” Andrew seethed as he grabbed his sketch pad.

  Andrew sat down and flipped his sketch pad open. He recognized that he should probably feel bad about the night light comment. He knew exactly why Robbie slept with it on because Robbie talked and cried in his sleep. His father was a sick bastard and did things to him. Andrew was sympathetic to a certain extent. After all, his father had hurt him as well, just not in that kind of way. But ultimately, Robbie just annoyed the hell out of him, which limited the amount of fucks that Andrew gave. Andrew glanced at the clock and then back at Robbie who had a noticeable scowl on his face.

  “HARRISON!” John said loudly as he walked into the room.

  Andrew grinned, “Come on let’s go!”

  “You’re going to get caught?” Robbie said in that annoying, know it all tone. Andrew didn’t listen. He simply flipped him off and left the room.

  “What’s wrong with him?” John asked as they snuck outside through one of their many escape routes.

  Andrew shrugged nonchalantly. He had been at this particular group home for a few months and felt that it sucked worse than the others. But, on the plus side, he had met John the first day and they had hit it off immediately. John was there because his parents died and he got arrested while in his last foster home. Andrew thought he was pretty cool and they had at least the whole parents are gone thing in common. Plus, he always had weed so that worked for Andrew.

  “I need to get the hell out of here, John. Do you think you can help me?”

  “Where you gonna go?”

  “I don’t know. I’ll be seventeen in a few months so I was thinking about hitching a ride to Los Angeles.”

  “Do you have relatives out there or something?” He asked giving Andrew a strange look.

  “Nah, all my relatives are dead but I figured I would just go to L.A.”

  “Why?” He said turning up his nose. He hated everything about L.A.

  “Because I can get lost out there, do some work under the table, no one will look for me.”

  “Huh.” Is all he said as they continued walking towards Shooter’s house.

  “Before I go though, I want to do that tatt I was telling you about.”

  “That's gonna hurt like hell, Harrison. You sure you want to do that?”

  “Hell, yeah! I’m sure,” Andrew said indignantly.

  Andrew was tired of having people ask him about his back and why it looked like it did. The tattoo he wanted to get would cover his scars nicely. He’d been sketching it for the past couple of weeks and had the design almost completed. The way he figured it, once he got it, no one would notice his scars anymore. At least that’s what had happened when he got the tattoo on his chest.

  “Alright man, I’ll help you.”

  Andrew smiled and nodded. He knew he could depend on him. . They turned another corner and John lit up a joint and passed it to Andrew who took a long drag, letting the chemical calm the fire in his blood.

  Helios, age 17

  “Come on, Harrison. You want the money right?”

  Andrew took a long deep breath, “Yeah, but...”

  “And you don’t want to sell for Shooter, right?”

  Andrew furrowed his brows, “No.”

  “Then come on. I can’t do it because for one, I don’t look old enough and two, well, you are fucking hot man. I see the way girls, young and old, look at you. It will be easy.”

  “Easy my ass.” Andrew took another deep breath and glanced at the woman in question, “How do I do this?”

  John started laughing while Andrew glared at him. “Fuck you, man. You know what I mean.”

  “Dude, look, I know you don’t want to do this, but what the fuck other options do we have? Do you have another solution?” He asked, arching his brow at his friend.

  Andrew sighed and shook his head before looking at the ground. They had been talking for weeks about this. Andrew was not good at many things. He could draw alright. He could steal pretty well, but his fear about ending up in jail made that option difficult. He wanted to escape, not be trapped. He definitely didn’t want to be one of Shooter’s sellers. Most of those dudes ended up dead or in jail. Once again, two options he wasn’t too thrilled about. That left them where they were now, him contemplating doing something he knew he would regret.

  “Harrison, just chill alright,” John said, drawing Andrew out of his thoughts. “Just give her one of them half smiles that you do that makes all them girls all hot and horny.” Andrew raised his head and glared once again, “Alright, alright, look, she’s got a ring on so she will probably be all excited that some hot young guy wants to fuck her.”

  Andrew growled, deep in his gut and stared directly at John. If that old saying were true, that looks could kill, then John would most certainly be dead. Andrew shook his head, unsure exactly how he let himself get talked into this. Then he remembered; he needed the money so he could leave. He closed his eyes and took a few more deep breaths, willing himself to go through with it. When he opened his eyes, he wasn’t any more convinced than before. He ran his hand through his hair nervously.

  “Well, what if she wants to do it in the car or something?”

  “Convince her you need a bed. Tell her you want to go back to her place.”

  Andrew let out an exasperated sigh. “What if she won’t do that?”

  “Well, then take her to that Super 8 down the street. Then make sure her car door is unlocked.”

  “But how the hell am I supposed to get out afterwards?”

  Andrew was starting to get a little panicked. This plan of theirs had so many flaws in it.

  “Fuck Harrison, use your damn head.” Then John laughed, “The one above your neck.” When he saw the look on Andrew�
��s face he concentrated a bit, figuring he was probably pushing it. “Alright, alright, I don’t know. Tell her you want to shower together or something like that, girls like that that shit, then have her go in first and tell her you need to make a call and will be right in, and then just take off."

  Andrew nodded. That seemed plausible. He took another deep breath before he casually walked by the mark. Make eye contact, he told himself. The woman glanced at the young man and smiled. Andrew, feeling empowered, gave her one of his sexy half smirks and saw her mouth part slightly. He knew she was interested, now it was time to step up to the plate and make it happen.

  “Can I sit with you?” Andrew asked, arching his brow slightly, “I mean, your husband won’t mind will he?” he motioned towards her ring.

  She breathed in deeply, “No, he won’t at all. He’s out of town.”

  Andrew nodded, “Lucky me.”

  He gave her a full blown panty dropping smile. She gasped and looked down, clearly embarrassed by her reaction to him and now he knew he could have her. Within forty minutes of shamelessly flirting with her she was unlocking the door to her house. He casually made sure that the front door was left unlocked before he pulled her into his arms and kissed her soundly on the lips. She immediately melted into him before bringing her hands to his backside.

  “How much time do we have?” Andrew asked her as he moved one of her hands to the front of his jeans.

  “He won’t be home until Sunday.”

  He smiled, “Well, let’s take advantage of that.”

  “How old are you again?” she asked and Andrew could see that she had some reservations.

  Andrew was only seventeen but he had a couple of days' worth of scruff on his face which made him look older. As much as he didn’t like it he resembled his father a lot. He had grown into his body. No longer small and frail. His six foot frame and broad shoulders worked to his advantage. It also helped that he didn’t act like most adolescent boys did. There was no awkwardness or self-entitlement. He had lived a difficult life already and it was reflected in the way he carried himself. He needed to use all of that. He could see that she was a little worried, so he pulled out the big guns and lifted his shirt off revealing his tattoos. He knew that they also made me look a lot older than what he was. After all, not many seventeen year olds had as many tattoos as he did. She had her mouth open and Andrew knew that her indecision was waning so he kicked it up a notch and unbuttoned his jeans letting them drop to the floor. Her eyes roamed over his body as he stood before her in only his boxers. He smiled and took her hand placing it so that she could feel how aroused he was. She let out a little whimper as Andrew kissed her.

  “I’m old enough to know how to please you,” he whispered against her lips.

  She slipped her hand under the band of his boxers, clearly no longer hesitant as she kissed him deeply. He let his lips wander down her neck, causing her skin to pebble in response.

  “Where’s your room?”

  “Upstairs,” she whispered, her voice cracking with desire.

  He pulled away from her and smiled as he took her hand and headed for the staircase. Once in her room, he figured he needed to just get it over with. He undressed her quickly and had her on the bed in no time. He spent the next couple of hours just doing her. He was no expert by any means but he had been with a few girls and had watched a truck load of porn so he figured he knew what to do. After all, she was an older woman whose husband was gone a lot. He probably didn’t pay much attention to her at all, so, Andrew did. He made sure to please her over and over again, and when she finally fell asleep, exhausted, he slipped into the bathroom and looked at himself in the mirror.

  “Fuck!” he said to his reflection.

  He cleaned himself up as quietly as possible and made his way out of her bedroom and towards the living room where he found his clothes. He dressed quickly, wanting to get out of there. He glanced around the room and couldn’t really tell if John had been there or not. Andrew briefly panicked that maybe John had left him stranded but when he stepped outside, there was a car down the street. The vehicle flashed their lights and Andrew took off towards it. When he got in he glanced over the seat and saw that the backseat was filled with a lot of miscellaneous stuff. The plan had been simple enough. Andrew was to distract her while John went through the things in the house, grabbing whatever they could easily pawn. Andrew would then take off to meet John and they would sell it all and split the cash fifty-fifty Andrew had been hustling up some money here and there and had a couple of hundred saved, but he needed more to get through the first few weeks in LA until he could find a job.

  “I’m a fucking whore,” Andrew muttered, throwing his head back.

  “No you’re not. You’re a fucking hustler, there’s a difference,” John said glancing at him.

  John proceeded to explain the difference, but Andrew wasn’t listening to him at all. John could say whatever he wanted, but Andrew knew what he had just done. Just because she didn’t actually give him any money didn’t make him any less of a whore. Andrew felt like he was going to throw up. The sense of nausea was overwhelming. He couldn’t believe that he had actually done what he’d done.

  The ride to the pawn shop seemed to take forever as Andrew’s self-loathing enveloped him completely. He was actually happy once they arrived so he could think about something else. He let John do all the negotiating because he was really good at it. By the time they walked out of the shop, they had four hundred and eighty dollars. That wasn’t a bad haul. As they walked back to the car, John handed Andrew all the cash they had just received. Andrew looked at him in confusion and started to hand some of it back to him. John shook his head and wrapped his hand around the money in Andrew’s palm before getting into the driver’s seat.

  “Look man, you need that a hell of a lot more than I do. The ticket to KC is gonna cost close to a hundred and fifty dollars, and you still gotta buy food and shit. Hell, you can’t go to LA with nothing. In fact...” He reached in his pocket and dug out some more cash handing it to Andrew. “That’s ninety-six dollars I think, take that too and...” He reached into the glove box and handed him a silver case. “I want you to have this as well.”

  Andrew opened it to find twelve joints inside. “Fuck, John, thanks man.”

  “Harrison, you sure you want to do this?” he asked concerned.

  “Yeah, one-hundred percent, I need to get out of here. I can’t have a life in Detroit. Too much shit has happened here. It’s all around me,” Andrew said, looking down.

  “And, what, you think you can have a life in L.A?” John asked kind of sadly.

  “Yeah, I do. I know you don’t understand this John, but LA is calling me. I am supposed to be out there. I can feel it,” Andrew said as convincingly as possible. He wanted John to understand that what he was doing was the right thing.

  John watched him carefully and gave him a solemn expression before turning back to the road.

  “Thanks for everything you did and for helping me, man,” Andrew stated, tapping his shoulder.

  John sighed and nodded as he continued to drive towards the bus stop. From there Andrew would hop a greyhound to Kansas City where it would be easier to hitch a ride to California. He hated the idea of it. He was not as convinced as Andrew was that going to California was such a good thing, but when Andrew set his mind to something he just did it.

  The two young men said their goodbyes with little to no fanfare, for long drawn out goodbyes were a hazard when you were in the system. They had both learned that a quick ‘see ya around’ was much less painful then admitting you were going to miss someone. John watched as Andrew took a seat in the way back of the bus. He glanced out the window and gave him a swift little head nod that John returned. When Andrew turned back around John let out a sigh and returned to his vehicle. He lit a joint as the bus pulled away, taking his friend with him.

  The bus ride to Kansas City was uneventful, which was good especially since Andrew’s mi
nd was all over the place. He couldn’t seem to wash away the feeling of repulsion that permeated every inch of him. Andrew tightened the hoodie around himself and leaned against his backpack which he had placed against the window. He was happy about one thing. In spite of everything he was leaving Detroit behind and with it, the pain and sorrow it held. He closed his eyes, desperate for sleep.

  “You’re going to be real pretty, Andrew, way too pretty for a man. You need to use that as an advantage to fuck others or you’ll end up getting fucked yourself.”

  Andrew woke with a gasp. He sat up and quickly looked around, getting his bearings. The bus rattled on, indifferent to the thoughts that plagued its occupants. As Andrew looked to the front of the bus, he noticed that the bus driver’s eyes were on him through the rear view mirror. Andrew swallowed thickly and turned towards the window. He watched the signs and took notice of the scenery passing him by. When the bus finally stopped in Kansas City, Andrew was relieved. He stretched his weary body and looked across the street to where a truck stop laid. He smiled. It was an oasis in the desert. He readjusted his backpack and jogged over there.

  “How long a wait for the shower?” he asked the man at the counter.

  “Got one available now if ya want it,” he replied with a curious nod.

  “Perfect!”

  Andrew paid the man the five dollars plus an extra buck for the use of a towel. Andrew headed towards the designated stall and quickly stripped his clothes. He had felt absolutely disgusted with himself since he left Detroit and the smell of that woman on him made the disgust even worse. He scrubbed his body with the harsh soap until his skin was red, but he didn’t care. It was the least he deserved. Once he felt sufficiently clean, or as clean as he imaged he’d ever be, he stepped out, quickly dressing.

  His stomach growled and he closed his eyes. ‘First things first,’ he thought. He would get some coffee since generally speaking you only had to buy one cup and then he could sit there all day drinking it. It would give him a chance to observe and see what he could do to get a ride. He strolled out towards the little café and smiled at the waitress, a middle aged woman with a head full of tight curls. She leaned towards him as he took a seat in the swiveled stool.