Dark Gardens

by Erb, Thom

  “I said…enough!” Mr. Williams took up the space between the bully and Spencer, his chest about level with the young star athlete’s chin. Martin’s entourage stepped back and fell silent.

  “Hey, Mr. W. Me n’ Spenc were just messin’ around, ya know.” Martin said, his deep set, blue eyes never leaving Spencer.

  “Is that so, Mr. Martin?” Mr. Williams crossed his thick arms over his wrinkled, plaid dress shirt and tie, which looked as uncomfortable on him as he did wearing it.

  “Hell, yeah! Me n’ Sammy here always joke around with good ol’ Spenc.” Martin’s GQ smile glistened under the glow of the fluorescent lights, as he patted the wide teacher’s shoulders.

  “I’m afraid your cheap attempt at being charming only works on impressionable freshmen girls, Mr. Martin.” The teacher’s voice seem to drop an octave. The entourage stepped back another step, accompanied by a bunch of hushed oooh’s and aaah’s.

  Martin ignored the burly teacher and leaned around him. “Spence, tell our good teacher here that we were just messin’ around. Right, bro?” His steel gaze intensified and made Spencer’s skin turn cold.

  “Ah. I see. Is this true, Mr. Weaver?” Mr. Williams asked with obvious disbelief, all the while keeping his calm gaze on the twitching jock in front of him.

  “I see. The two of you and Mr. Spencer here are the best of pals? And, this is just a simple game of grab ass?” The teacher already knew the answer, but was always looking for ways to balance out the already overly unbalanced jock-to-academic quotient in the athletically driven school.

  “No, Mr. Williams.” Anna declared. She glared at Justin and Bekah. Anna knew that Spencer had too much pride to admit the bullying and she had had enough of the childish games.

  “These…these…ignorant muck trolls have been terrorizing Spencer since…since well…forever! Spencer flinched at her harsh words and the painful repercussions soon to follow.

  The entourage behind Martin suddenly wanted nothing to do with their tough leader. They seem to shrink and force the line to move along hastily – not being able to put enough space between themselves and the bomb that was about to drop. Mr. Williams had a reputation for not taking any crap from students, regardless of whom their parents were, their social status, or what New York State record they may have set in the past. Unless it was the tennis team.

  “Well, Mr. Martin… If I were you, I would knock off this tough guy bullshit.” Mr. Williams leaned in close, grabbed the young man by his finely pressed Abercrombie & Fitch polo and forced his eyes to his.

  “It is my advice that you and your dipshit crew get your lunch, find a table, enjoy your fine sustenance, and leave Mr. Weaver alone. Do you feel me?” Mr. Williams’ jaw muscles tightened and it was obvious to Martin that the big teacher wasn’t joking around, and as much as he wanted to knock the old man’s teeth down his throat, he backed down and nodded. He averted his eyes, turned around, and shoved Sammy toward the lunchroom door.

  Spencer could see the bully was trying to hide his bright red face. He felt Anna’s hand on his shoulder and turned to look at her.

  “Can’t we ever just have a quite lunch?” She laughed, shoving him forward as the lunch line moved.

  “Thanks, Mr. Williams.” Spencer paused, feeling a wet tear form in his eye.

  “Keep it moving.” Mr. Williams winked and patted Spencer on the shoulder. “Enjoy your lunch Mr. Spencer.” He nodded slightly, then headed down the hall.

  Ahead in line, Spencer could feel the violent gaze penetrating him like a laser from Martin, as Bekah whispered in his flushed ear.

  “What will it be Spence, strawberry Jell-O or apple crisp?” Anna asked nudging him forward.

  “Well, ya know me…I’m all about the apple crisp.” Spencer tried to hide his fear and trepidation. This was just a small victory in a much larger battle, and knowing the worst was coming, was like carrying around a Kia Soul on his weary back. They made sure to find a table far away from Martin and his gaggle of idiots.

  The rest of lunch period went as smooth as he could hope. They sat and talked about his book report and what colleges they were hoping to attend after they escaped the cesspool. However, he found it hard to ignore the constant “ding” from his cell phone alerting him of incoming texts from his Mother. His alone time with Anna was precious too, so he let the text go. It wasn’t that distraction that caused his chest to clinch tight as Neil Peart’s snare drum. As hard as he tried, he couldn’t avoid the venomous stare from Martin, who was still fuming from his lunch line embarrassment by Mr. Williams. Even the constant tugs from his “picture-perfect” cheerleader girlfriend couldn’t break the brute’s intense stare. Bekah shot him death rays from her squinting eyes, when she wasn’t busy texting on her iPhone.

  The bell rang and lunch was over. It was time for Mr. Ralston’s art class. The only other place where Spencer felt safe.

  His cell phone text alert chimed again.

  It made him smile as they rushed out of the cafeteria, trying to go unnoticed. He’d really gotten used to his mom’s texts. They helped make things better.

  While sixth period couldn’t come fast enough, it was bitter sweet. The bus ride with Anna was always the highlight of his day, especially since douche bag Martin drove to school. Once he hit Whitney Pine’s Trailer Park, he knew it was back to his reality. His Dad would already be at work and the trailer would be dark and empty. A silent testimony of what his young life had become. He shrugged off the thought and focused on the texts he had gotten from his Mother that day. It had been the only thing in his life that had given him strength and encouraged him to finish high school and get out of this podunk town.

  “Afterimage”

  As he got off the bus, the same dark fumes ushered him home as he unlocked the flimsy, aluminum trailer door. Inside, it smelled of thick cigarette smoke, dirty laundry and stale beer. His Dad left for work about an hour before, but his true essence remained to welcome Spencer home. He went over to the rickety computer desk and pushed the power button on the eight-year-old Gateway. As the computer hummed and beeped to life, Spencer went to the fridge, hoping that his Dad had shopped and bought some Diet Coke. His body slumped and his breath eased out, as he read the note attached to the freezer portion of the old fridge.

  Hey, Spence. I meant to hit the store for chow and soda today, but I overslept. There’s still one soda left, cold cuts and bread. Sorry, bud. I’ll see you in the morning. Have to go to work. Have a good one and remember to do your homework. – Dad

  Spencer opened the old Frigidaire and took out the last soda and sandwich fixings. He sat down at the old table and made himself a pauper’s supper, as he liked to call it. He glanced into the living room and noticed the glass pot pipe half shoved underneath the beat up Lazy-Boy. Surrounding it was an army of empty Keystone Light cans. He shook his head. He sat there for a long moment and stared at the only picture of his mom. Spencer had to force his father to leave up on the living room wall. He ate the tasteless supper, drained the can of soda, and rinsed it out in the sink. He placed it in the plastic bag with the other empties and jumped as lightening flashed through the filth-covered kitchen window. A late spring storm quickly and violently overtook the small town and pelted bullet-like rain drops down into the dry earth. It didn’t come alone; syncopated thunder and more lightening rocked the trailer.

  Spencer knew he should turn off the computer, but couldn’t bring himself to do it. He was still in shock that she friended him on Facebook weeks ago after not seeing or hearing from her in over twelve years. He was scared and apprehensive at first and he still hadn’t told his father. Spencer loved him, but his father had to work tons of overtime just to pay for this tenement on cinderblocks. He never had much time for Spencer, and although he felt horrible about it, sometimes he resented the old man for his absence. Then there was all the drinking and drugs. His Dad tried to hide it from him, but he wasn’t seven anymore. Now with his mom back in the picture, life just seemed brighter. She
made all the crap at school not so hard to take and he wasn’t alone anymore.

  He lived for her texts, emails and Facebook chats. He asked her about meeting a few times, even to just call him, but she told him she was busy with work and that there was some issue with her phone. She said it was cheaper and better for now to continue to communicate the way they had been. He didn’t care, really. She could fill that old empty hole with complete happiness now that she was back in his life. Spencer had been thinking about asking if it would be okay for him to come live with her after graduation. She had told him that she loved the idea and that there were plenty of colleges near her. He thought it odd that she never told him where she lived, but did keep telling him that she wasn’t too far away, and she didn’t want to make his life more complicated with his father. He just really wanted to see her again. He noticed that the memory of her face and soft soothing voice had become like an old photograph, yellowed and faded by the cruel hand of time.

  His cell phone had been silent since the end of the school day. He frowned at it, tossed it on the old computer table and logged onto his Gmail account. There was nothing but ads to make his erection bigger and pills to turn his keg into a six-pack. Like he had any need for that kind of crap. He had the sexual mojo of a Bedouin monk. He leaned back in the kitchen chair and let out an exhausted breath.

  The living room was dark, save the blue haze from the monitor, as Spencer checked Facebook. His eyes sprung wide as he saw all the posts saying how Justin Martin was punked by big geek, Spencer Martin. He leapt up from the flimsy chair and punched the imaginary air. His victory dance didn’t last long. His jaw slacked open as he read the very last post from Martin himself.

  Hey all. No worries. It was my bad and I was a jerk to Spencer and deserved what Mr. Williams said. Maybe it’s time we all stop and really take look and see how we treat our fellow students. I’m really sorry, Spencer!

  The comments that followed were myriad of disbelief, jokes and huzzahs. It boggled Spencer’s spinning mind at the sheer number of the replies and reposts. Deep down he really wanted to believe Martin’s lamentation, but his scars, both on the surface and the ones much deeper, weren’t so quick to believe.

  He shook his head, stared at his Facebook page, and waited for his Mother to sign on. An hour passed and she didn’t show up. He felt his hopes sinking and wished he hadn’t guzzled down the last can of Diet Coke.

  The pounding storm outside lulled him into a sound slumber.

  “Fly By Night”

  DING…DING. The Facebook instant message alert startled him awake-causing him to fall from his chair.

  He rubbed the sleep from his eyes and spastically grabbed at his cell phone, knocking it on the floor. It took a second to realize the sound came from the computer.

  “Oh, for the love of God,” he grumbled and squinted to focus on the screen. He nervously shook the mouse to wake up the computer, the sudden light from the monitor blinding him.

  “Holy hell,” he said. He gave his eyes a few seconds to adjust. Part of him hoped it was from Anna and the other part wished it were his Mom. His smile grew wide and he guided the mouse to the Reply section on the IM window.

  Entre Nous sent at 8:17pm

  Hello honey, you there?

  He frantically glanced down at the clock on the bottom of the screen. It read 8:25. His heart pounded, thinking that he missed her. He cuffed himself on the head when he saw the little green dot was on, indicating she was still online.

  By-Tor94- replied at 8:25

  Hi Mom! I’m here!

  The storm raged on outside and thunder rocked the old trailer as a lightening surge caused the computer monitor to flicker. He shot the storm a snarky look, mumbling a plethora of curse words and promptly returned to the screen.

  Entre Nous sent at 8:27pm

  Oh good! I thought I missed you. How was your day hon? I had a strange feeling all day and I was worried about you after your last text.

  By-Tor94 – replied at 8:28pm

  Wow, Mom! Really? I did have a messed up day. I mean, the Ghoul report rocked and all but, it was the crap that happened in the lunch line that turned my day into a pile of dung beetle filled crap. LOL ;o)

  Entre Nous sent at 8:30pm

  Oh no! What happened? You okay?

  By-Tor94- replied at 8:31pm

  I almost had my butt handed to me today, Mom. You remember that guy, Martin that I’ve told you about a gazillion times?

  Entre Nous sent at 8:31pm

  Sure do! Did he HURT YOU?

  By-Tor94- replied at 8:32pm

  Almost! I don’t know why he always needs to mess with me, Mom! I’ve never done anything to him. Or any of his troglodyte stooges. They always want to shove my face into locker or kick my ass!

  Entre Nous sent at 8:34pm

  You sure you’re okay? Tell me what happened hon?

  By-Tor94- replied at 8:34pm

  That asswipe was putting his hands all over Anna and me…

  Entre Nous sent at 8:34pm

  She’s the one you’ve been crushing on since elementary school right? :o)

  By-Tor94- replied at 8:34pm

  Yes, Mom! Geesh!

  Entre Nous sent at 8:35pm

  Sorry, sorry. :o) Then what happened?

  By-Tor94- replied at 8:34pm

  I told him to leave her alone and he grabbed me and was about to punch me but a teacher... Mr. Williams stopped him. Boy did THAT piss Justin off! It was a good thing too, because I was about to go all medieval all over his sorry butt. In front of Anna and the whole blessed school!

  Entre Nous sent at 8:40pm

  Oh honey! I am so sorry! I wish I were there for you!

  By-Tor94- replied at 8:40pm

  I know, Mom! I am just so tired of it all. That dumb, as a box of rocks Neanderthal and his bleach-blonde automaton, seem to get their thrills out of making my life hell. I tell you... there are times when I can see why so many kids go postal and bring guns to school. I am so damn tired of being nothing but a punching bag for their sick and sadistic entertainment. If he pulls that crap one more time, there won’t be a teacher alive that will stop me from stomping his inbred ass. Along with Sammy the “douche bag” and the other “The Hill’s Have Eyes” rejects. I would love to kick their asses for once and then see how THEY feel! I can’t get out of this redneck town fast enough, Mom!

  He could feel his heartbeat in his temples. Sweat covered his as rage coursed through him like the spring rainstorm battering the thin walls. His twitching fingers tapped on the mouse, waiting for his mom to reply.

  By-Tor94- replied at 8:44pm

  You there, Mom?

  Entre Nous sent at 8:45pm

  Oh yes. Sorry hon, the storm here is mad crazy and is messing with my internet connection. I feel so bad. I love you so much. I wish I could beat them up for you! ;o)

  By-Tor94- replied at 8:46pm

  I know, Mom. I love you too! Just wish you were here! I have to admit. I would have loved to punch that bag of feces right in that smug jaw of his. I bet you he’s not as tough as he thinks he is. Nobody has ever given him a swift kick in the junk I bet. Well, beside that cheap skank of his. LOL

  Entre Nous sent at 8:50pm

  I am so sorry that I’ve left you alone for so long! Seeing what you have been through and knowing that your father hasn’t done much to help. I’ve been struggling with something for a while now.

  By-Tor94- replied at 8:51pm

  It’s okay, Mom. Dad does… He tries. What are you thinking about?

  Entre Nous sent at 8:53pm

  Okay... here goes. How do you feel about moving in with me? I know we’ve talked about it and it’s your senior year. Would you want to come live with me? It’s not that far of a drive and I could bring you to and from school until you graduate. I know your father tries, but to be honest, we both know you deserve a better life…I…

  Spencer quickly sat up straight and the old chair creaked loud. He leaned back and just stared at hi
s Mother’s shocking offer on the screen. His mind scrambled and tossed with the possibilities of a new life away from this rotting cesspool. Pangs of guilt rattled his chest at the thought of leaving his father. He knew he couldn’t stay here and be his caretaker for the rest of his life. He had big dreams, and not one of those included him staying here, chained to the hell-on-earth fate of a lifelong resident of Carrigan Springs, New York. Without a second’s more thought, he found his excited fingers typing.

  By-Tor94- replied at 8:53pm

  Mom! I'M IN! :O)

  Entre Nous sent at 8:54pm

  Oh, I am so happy, honey! I can’t wait to see you.

  Now here is the tough part hon. If we are going to do this, we need to do it tonight. Is that a problem? I can be there in an hour to pick you up. Is that okay?

  Spencer slouched in his chair. He looked about the dark, rundown trailer that had been his home for the past ten years and the uneasy thought of leaving it behind tonight made his stomach roll. Sure, he hated the living daylights out of this dead end crap hole, and he would be leaving in a few months anyway, but to leave his father high and dry just didn’t feel right. The more pervasive thought was that his Mom offered him a fresh start in a whole new world. Sure, he would miss the hell out of his father and Anna. However, he could always stay in communication with them both. Especially, Anna. She was just as addicted to computers and social networking as he was, and they would still have until the end of the school year to hang out and make plans. It really wasn’t that difficult of a decision.