Genetic Abomination

by Dane Hatchell

  The X-Files ‘I Want to Believe’ poster on the inside of his locker inspired a question. Is that why he believed? Because he wanted to? Was his belief in aliens, bigfoot, and the paranormal just an offshoot of the whole Santa Claus thing? Normal life wasn’t good enough. People played fantasy games to make life more fun, more interesting. The tooth fairy, the Easter Bunny, all the games played on children so they could grow up and believe in this magical world where bunnies delivered chocolate eggs, and a fat man in a red suit traveled the world in one day giving presents.

  Had Cole fallen into the same trap of a different sort? Charlotte had said the night before that there was no hard evidence of aliens anywhere in the universe. Technically, she was right. Was Cole, like so many others, grasping at anything and declaring it to be proof aliens existed just because they wanted to believe? This was another one of those moments where he felt like he was on the outside of his body looking down on himself. Did others see him as some kind of kook? Some kind of misfit?

  He looked at the ‘Paranormal Investigator’ sticker on his locker and felt slightly ashamed, embarrassed, whatever. He began to feel like he was fourteen and still believed in Santa Claus, and just learned old Kriss Kringle wasn’t real.

  Then he looked at the bigfoot bumper sticker, ‘Bigfoot Saw Me. No One Believed Him.’ Did he really see a bigfoot in the woods back when he was ten? Both his dad and uncle tried to convince him back then that it must have been light shining through tree branches causing shadows to play tricks on his eyes. Or even perhaps he did actually see a bear standing on its hind legs trying to eat some tree leaves, which was a scary thought. But no, he vividly remembered the event. The creature with reddish-brown hair covering its body, save its face and chest, wasn’t a bear. There was just something about the way the creature looked at him. Cole could sense that it was intelligent. Maybe not human intelligent, but for sure something more than an instinct-driven animal.

  The sloosh of a mop dunking in a roll-around bucket by the wall told Cole Mr. Buddy was hard at his job early in the morning. He thought of Mr. Buddy’s invitation and how he still would love to see the plaster castings of bigfoot tracks the janitor had at his house. As far as the tooth Mr. Buddy had shown him went, well, Cole wasn’t too sure that was really from an infamous sasquatch.

  Mr. Buddy kept his head down as he diligently worked the mop on a particularly difficult to clean spot. Cole thought it a little strange that the man didn’t give him a good morning wave or something. The janitor had to know Cole was standing not ten feet from him. Hallway traffic was starting to pick up. It was just yesterday that Mr. Buddy took him in his confidence, when he showed the alleged tooth wrapped in that handkerchief. He didn’t know why but something about the whole matter didn’t feel right.

  “Hey, Cole,” a sweet voice said from behind his locker door.

  He pulled the door nearly closed and saw Charlotte Meadows’ pretty face smiling at him. “Oh, hey! You snuck up on me,” he kidded.

  “I had a lot of fun last night,” she said, and then pushed her key in the locker door and opened it.

  “Yeah, me too. Those cookies you made were the awesomeness of awesome.”

  “I’m glad you liked them. Did you upload the video of the ISS crossing the sky?” she asked, putting some books away.

  “I sure did. It came out about how I expected. It’s really not that exciting—just a small light traveling against a black background. It didn’t help that I had to pan the camera to keep it in the field of view.”

  “Yeah, some things you just have to be there for it to mean something.”

  “True, but I’m hoping the virtual reality headsets coming out changes some of that. I tried an Oculus Rift at a Best Buy and was totally blown away.”

  “Really? Sounds interesting. I’ve never tried one of those,” Charlotte removed a notebook and placed it on top of another book she held.

  “I hope my dad didn’t bore your mom last night,” Cole said, fishing for some information.

  “Just the opposite. Apparently, they found a lot of things to talk about. In fact, I know your whole life story,” Charlotte said. Her cheeks deflated a bit. “He told her how your mom died. That was a really sad story.”

  Cole shrugged. “I was young. I don’t even remember her. When I see her picture, I have to remind myself that she was my mother.”

  “It must have been hard growing up without a mother.”

  “I guess, but it’s all I know. Dad’s always been there for me. It can be hard at times, with him being a single parent and working.”

  “Tell me about it,” Charlotte said.

  “Your dad, uh, what happened to him?”

  Charlotte paused and tilted her head. “I don’t remember much about him when he lived with us. He and mom fought a lot—when he was home, that is. He was gone most of the time with his job. At least that’s what mom thought until she found out he was out gambling and running around on her some of the time. They got divorced when I was five. He was never really around, so I didn’t miss him much. I don’t miss him at all now.”

  “Well, I have often wondered what it would be like to have both a mom and dad, and brothers and sisters too. It’s lonely being an only child sometimes,” Cole said.

  “Not for me. I’ve always liked being an only child. I’ve seen too many of my friends constantly fighting with their brothers or sisters. My mom and I are best friends. We like it just the way it is.”

  Maybe that’s why Charlotte’s mom never got remarried, Cole thought. Still, with Charlotte growing up and dating now, maybe Lori Meadows’ thoughts were shifting in another direction. Maybe both she and his dad didn’t want to be alone when their kids grew up and moved out. He had a feeling that he wasn’t going to like the direction his dad and her mom seemed to be heading. “One thing’s for sure, I don’t ever want to get a divorce if I get married. I’ve seen too many families busted up after nasty divorces.”

  “Getting married…having children…that’s not going to be me for a long, long time. There’s so much for me to learn. So much for me to do with college and career…” Charlotte stopped and shook her head. “Way too much to consider right now. I’m enjoying high school. I still have a few years before I have to really grow up.”

  Cole giggled. “Yeah, there are some advantages to being a kid. You don’t have to get up and go to work. At least while we’re still in school, we get the summer off. It’s going to suck when you start working that you probably won’t get more than two weeks of vacation at first.”

  “And then you have to pay for a place to live, a car to drive, insurance…it would be easier just to win the lottery,” Charlotte said, opening the notebook and turning her gaze away.

  Cole looked at the clock on the wall. “Uh, I better go. I was late to Mr. Ritzman’s class yesterday, and I wanted to get there a little early to show him I’ve learned my lesson.”

  “Okay,” Charlotte said, looking up from her notebook, a slight questioning expression on her face.

  “We have baseball practice again today. I can call you later on. You know, how you said you’d like us to get to know each other a little better?” Cole hoped he didn’t sound too eager, but he did want her to know he expected her to follow through with what she had told him the night before. “What would be a good time?”

  “How about eight-thirty?” She blinked her long lashes over excited, large eyes.

  “Works for me.” Cole closed his locker door and locked it. “See ya!”

  “Bye.”

  He hated to leave now. It would have been better if he had walked Charlotte to her class. But no, maybe that was pushing himself too soon on her. It would be much better if she asked him to walk her to class. He longed for that day to come.

  Cole left with Mr. Buddy still working on the same spot on the floor near his locker. Must have had glue or something like it on the tile.

  As his mind raced with a thousand different thoughts of the day, he turned a corner and
collided shoulder-to-shoulder with another student. He almost dropped his books and the bag of trash filled with garbage from his locker.

  Cole looked over to see Brennon Davis’ feces eating grin glaring down at him.

  “Man, we keep running into each other. You need to look where you’re going.”

  That boy was not going to cut him any slack. After staring back blankly for a few seconds, Cole soldiered on back to first-hour. He heard Brennon’s maniacal laugh of victory as he headed down the hallway.

  There was going to come a time when Cole was going to have to stand up to the bully. He had hoped that working out would add enough muscle to give him more of a fighting chance. Right now, it was advantage team-Brennon—by a longshot. He didn’t know what was more humiliating: letting Brennon continue to keep abusing him or getting his butt kicked by the 10th grader. Either way, he was going to look weak in Charlotte’s eyes. That was a thought he didn’t want to entertain.

  *

  Charlotte watched Cole speed away and saw Mr. Buddy cleaning the floor over by the wall. She then went back searching for some English notes she had written in the notebook last week.

  Cole seemed a little different today from the night before. Last night he seemed more mature. Today, well, today he came across more as a kid his age. Which was the same age as Charlotte, but, she had always identified more with older boys. She wished he hadn’t run off so abruptly. Getting to class way too early just to get on a teacher’s good side appeared rather childish. He could have spoken to her a little more. Maybe even walked her part way to her first-hour. All he had to do was show up to class on time.

  “Hello, beautiful.”

  The familiar voice could only be that of Brennon Davis. What was it with boys that didn’t want to let go? Even after Charlotte had been dumped by other guys, they all still came back when she started to have an interest in someone else. Why couldn’t boys just move on?

  She turned, ready to let him have it. She had made it clear that they were through.

  He gazed down at her, with sad eyes and a shy, innocent smile on his face. His curly blonde hair neatly combed and almost touching the collar of his shirt.

  Charlotte went to open her mouth but hesitated. Brennon looked devastatingly handsome. A part of her heart instantly melted. Even though she had told herself differently, she still had feelings for the boy.

  “You look pretty today,” Brennon said. “Of course, you always look pretty.” He turned his gaze to the floor. “Just looking at you used to make me happy, back when we were together.”

  “We’re not together anymore. You’ll have to find other ways to make yourself happy. Get a new game for your Xbox.”

  Brennon cringed, feeling the sting of her words. “Yeah, I know. I know. I only have myself to blame.”

  This was unexpected. Charlotte thought he might try and bully his way back into her favor, and she was prepared to go toe-to-toe with him to make sure he understood that was never going to happen. Brennon came across as a defeated little boy. “You certainly do.” She kept an edge in her voice but couldn’t help but feel slightly ashamed for treating him badly. He was being a perfect gentleman, after all.

  “Look, I…uh. I was hoping that we could get together one last time. You know, just so that we can get some things out in the clear. I understand that we’re no longer together, but I don’t want you to hate me as much as you do.”

  “I don’t hate you, Brennon,” Charlotte quickly rebutted. “Things just went the wrong way for us, and it’s best we move on in different directions.”

  “Okay, all right, whatever you say. But I do wish you’d do me one last favor.” Brennon’s eyebrows innocently raised.

  “What kind of favor?” Charlotte said, her tone none too trusting.

  “Let me take you to The Chimes tonight. For old time’s sake. Let's just go and have one last good time together. We’ll eat some good food and get dessert. I want your last thoughts of me to be good thoughts.”

  “I don’t know, Brennon,” Charlotte said. “I don’t think that would be such a good idea.”

  “It’s just one last time. I’ll feel better about myself.”

  “No, I—”

  “This bothers me in ways you don’t understand. I’m a baseball player. In baseball, the batter tries to get into the pitcher’s head, and the pitcher tries to get in the batter’s head. There’s more of a mental side of the game than a physical side. I have to admit that you’re in my head. I don’t need this distraction. I need to keep my game up so I can get a scholarship to pay for college.”

  He was making it hard for her to say no. If this was a game of some kind he was playing, he was hitting on all points.

  The remaining bitterness inside of her faded. She took a deep breath, and said, “I go tonight and then we’re over? You’ll be okay and leave me alone?”

  “Absolutely. Cross my heart and hope to die,” Brennon said, motioning an imaginary X over the right side of his chest.

  “Your heart’s on the left side.”

  Brennon quickly repeated the gesture on the left side of his chest. “You’ll go?”

  “Yes,” she said, immediately feeling a twinge of regret. “We can’t let my mom know, though. You know she doesn’t let me go out on weeknights.”

  “You can tell her you’re going to Amy’s to study. I’ll come pick you up around the corner from her house by that old bus stop. That’s worked a few times in the past.”

  “Okay, we’ll do it. But if you start a scene, I’m getting up and Ubering home, and I’ll never speak to you again.”

  Brennon raised his hands under his chin in surrender. “You don’t have to worry about anything.” He looked at the clock on the wall. “We’d better go. Don’t want to be late for class. See you later.” He smiled and pointed at her, and then hurried down the hallway.

  Charlotte closed and locked her locker. Her mom’s talk about her repeating the same mistakes with boys invaded her mind as she walked to class.

  *

  The race red Mustang GT’s 435 horses rumbled down the highway, maintaining a steady speed right at the limit. Brennon didn’t want to do anything to catch a traffic cop’s eye and delay his meeting with Charlotte. Part of him was surprised that she had agreed to go with him tonight. He’d broken up with girls before, and he could usually tell when he had reached a point of no return.

  I guess things with Cole didn’t go so well last night, he thought. How could she pick him over me? He’s just a kid. She needs more of a man, like me.

  Brennon ran his hand through his hair, feeling his curls against his palm. He had showered and put on a clean pair of jeans and a collared shirt. Charlotte had to know that he was serious about her, but he had to play his cards right.

  If he was going to win her back, it had to be her idea. He had to be cool and keep his emotions in check. Play his cards right. He really wasn’t trying to deceive her, either. When he compared his relationship with her with his others, even he wasn’t too dense to see a pattern. Once his charms had them on the hook, then he made the relationship all about him. That’s the way it was supposed to work, right? Jock’s had more important things to worry about than keeping a girl entertained. He had been certain that once he made it to college and became a baseball star, the girls would just line up, and he could choose from them. He had heard stories how sorority pledges would compete for a guy’s attention where just about anything goes. If even half the stories were true, well, he couldn’t be more ready than to help a few pledges qualify.

  But as exciting as satisfying his wanton lusts sounded, the thought of losing Charlotte from his life left an emptiness that nothing else seemed to fill. Even his pride had to take a step back. In some ways, he felt weak for letting a girl affect him that way. He couldn’t just to throw up his hands, say screw it, and move on to the next girl.

  In the passenger seat lay a box of Godiva chocolates. The rich, creamy confections were her favorite. In the back seat, a bott
le of Prosecco chilled in a cooler filled with ice. Charlotte didn’t like the taste of beer. One time Brennon helped himself to a new bottle of the Italian sparkling wine at a wedding he was forced to attend. They had the best of times the afternoon they shared it at a park. Charlotte said the bubbles tickled her nose. The two of them played like children, swinging high on the swing set, and even sliding down the slide.

  Brennon doubted that day would ever be repeated. Hopefully, the candy would show he was trying, and the sparkling wine would help her relax and ease some of the tension she was sure to feel.

  It was a little before 7 p.m., the time he was supposed to meet her at the old bus stop. Brennon turned into Amy’s subdivision and kept his speed under 20 mph. There wasn’t anyone outside of their houses. The kids were probably in on a school night getting ready to eat supper.

  The bus stop was at the end of the subdivision, in front of an old abandoned baseball field. Trees covered the land so much it was hard to imagine that it had once been used for such purposes. The bus stop and concrete bench set at the entrance. The way the foliage grew around it, had it mostly concealed from the road. It was a perfect spot for a secret rendezvous.

  Brennon slowed as he approached his destination, excited to see Charlotte’s lovely face as he turned in. The bench, though, was empty. There was no Charlotte waiting to greet him.

  He didn’t want to suspect the worst, that she had changed her mind, just yet. He was a couple of minutes early. Still, not that early. Plus, he would have seen her walking toward the bus stop as he drove up. She usually got there fifteen minutes early. Enough time for people to forget that they saw her walk in that direction and wouldn’t notice her getting in the car with him.

  His fingers tapped lightly against the steering wheel as his mind raced in indecision. If Charlotte didn’t plan on coming, why didn’t she give him a call? That would have been easy.

  He unclipped his phone from the case on his side and checked to see if he had missed her call. No, no missed calls. No text messages either.