I found the perfect gift for Sam. It was a little Charlie Chaplin doll. He was dressed in his trademark baggy pants and carried a cane. She adored the silent comedian, and I have to admit I've grown quite fond of him myself. We watched one of his movies, City Lights, and I instantly fell in love with the little guy. There were parts where I really laughed out loud. And, I'm embarrassed to admit, I actually had tears in my eyes at the end. The thing I admire most about him was his effortless ability to blend comedy and sadness at the same time. Despite the humor, there is a dark vein running through his work. Kind of like my life.
Julian got a crystal bird, which I thought was quite ugly. I told him so, but he just shrugged and told me I knew nothing about crystal birds. I reluctantly agreed with him. "However," I reminded him. "I do know what's ugly. Besides, I'm no ear doctor and I have to agree you got yourself some big ass ears."
He frowned at the comment and started to make some sort of lame comeback. He thought better of it, though, and decided instead to just shut his mouth.
Chapter 16:
Anti-climax
From Suzanne's window, I watch my father and mother go into what used to be my house. I shudder and realize that I could never live with him again. I can't believe that I lived with him as long as I did.
The weirdest thing my Dad did to me was his refusal to let me read books. They were entirely banned from me. If he caught me reading anything he would actually beat me. Needless to say, I woke up in the early hours of the morning to read whatever I could get my hands on. The fact they were banned from me made them special somehow. By the age of twelve, I was reading two or three books a week, and not just garbage either. The more adult the book, the more likely I would read it. I wrote down words I didn't understand and looked them up at school the next day.
A neighbor turned me on to the beat writers such as Burroughs and Kerouac. He later made me read the works of Hunter S. Thompson. By the time I was thirteen, I was able to discuss thematic issues in any major work of the twentieth century. I had books hidden all over the house. Behind the toilet, outside in the wood shed, everywhere. Sometimes my dad found them and beat the hell out of me, but it was worth it. The only thing my Dad read was hunting magazines, which bored the hell out of me.
I guess my dad was insecure—he didn't want me to become smarter than he was. He feared it for some reason, which I have never been able to figure out. If I had a son, I would be proud if he was smarter than I was. I certainly wouldn't fear it.
Living at Suzanne's is great. She works a lot, and when she's not working she goes out with her friends, so she's rarely home. It's kind of like having my own apartment. I buy my own food. She told me she doesn't care what I eat, but it's bad enough she's giving me a place to stay.
I'm nervous tonight. Sam is coming over and I have a feeling we're going to have sex. She never asked me if I was a virgin, but I have this funny feeling she thinks I am. If I'm as good at this sex thing as Suzanne says I am, then she's probably going to figure out I'm experienced. Sam is always so fucking clever, nothing seems to get past her. It's both annoying as hell, and one of the many reasons why I love her so damn much.
I'm afraid to tell her about Suzanne and I. For one thing, she'll probably have a major problem with us living together, although Suzanne hasn't made one sexual advance since I came to live here. Plus, she'll probably think Suzanne is a pedophile, which she's not. Suzanne and I actually loved each other, but you, Dear Reader, already know this. If she asks me, I'll tell her the truth. It's the only way.
Julian gave me a condom. He's always carrying one. His wallet actually has a white ring in it where he keeps it, which shows you how long it's been there. The ironic thing about this particular condom is it once belonged to my mortal enemy, Ross Morrissey. Julian stole it from him. Apparently Ross is one of those guys who can actually buy a twelve pack, a rarity at the high school level.
I watch nervously as Sam's jeep pulls into the driveway, trying to ignore the goldfish swimming around in my stomach.
When Sam enters the door, I can tell she's just as nervous as I am. She manages to kiss me and tell me about her day without looking me in the eyes. She looks adorable—a single lock of hair falls over her left eye and she brushes it away absently.
For a moment, we just sit there in uncomfortable silence. "So," I say, ever the witty one.
"So," is her clever retort.
Ten seconds later we are both laughing uncontrollably. The laughter is a mix of nervous energy and a little bit of tension. After a few moments, our mirth recedes a bit. The only problem now is the mood is gone. I'm no longer horny.
For some reason, I feel the need to travel down the road to idiocy. "Um, Sam, I have to tell you something. Somehow I wouldn't feel right if you didn't know."
She smiles mischievously and giggles. "You're not a virgin."
I stop in midsentence. "Um, yeah. But it's worse than that. I—"
"You slept with Suzanne," she completes my sentence, and watches in amusement as my mouth pops open.
"She told you?" I ask, standing up and pacing nervously. "I can't believe she told you!"
"Relax, Harlan, I asked her first," she was watching me pace with genuine amusement. I hate when she does that; it makes me feel like a monkey or something. "There are certain things that girls just know. Besides, it wouldn't take Nancy Drew to figure it out. That picture of you and her in her bedroom gives off a vibe that says it's a bit more than just friendship."
"I'm not sleeping with her anymore, Sam. We're just friends."
"I know, we've talked for hours about it."
"You mean you talked about me," I said nervously, suddenly feeling the heat of the feminine microscope.
She laughed. "Yeah. I guess you can say that. You're quite a little stud, aren't you."
"Sex god," I said with a dry, deadpan voice. "Julian says I am a sex god."
She smiled. "Well, of course Julian would think that, him being a virgin and all."
"Allison told you he's a virgin?" I asked with surprise. "Is there anything that females don't talk about?"
"Not really."
The mood was sort of ruined after that, so once again we didn't have sex. We both wanted it to be special. Instead we watched a movie, both of us knowing we would cross that line when the time was right.
Chapter 17:
I become unhinged sometimes.
"Come on, Julian," I said disgustedly. "The real world is calling you."
He was typing away in front of his computer, his eyes glazed. He was a chat room addict. Basically, he sits there and talks to people all over the world. The only problem is that nothing ever gets said. One time he made me try it, and I soon realized that it wasn't for me. If anything, it convinced me that the world is full of a bunch of idiots. Idiocy reigns supreme on the Internet. For one thing, they don't really say anything except for hello and bye. Here is an example of what I see in the chat rooms:
Idiot #1: Hello, Idiot!
Idiot #2: HI!
This goes on back and forth as people fill the room. People sit for hours and hours greeting each other.
Sometimes a moron will get a flash of wit and say:
Idiot#1: How old are you?
Idiot#2: 12. You?
I was on for like five minutes until people began to get on my nerves so bad I began to bitchslap people all over the room with emotes. An example:
* HARLAN BITCHSLAPS THE TASTE FROM IDIOT'S MOUTH FOR SAYING LOL TOO MUCH! *
(LOL meaning Laughing out Loud, a term that seems to be pretty popular on the internet. They will LOL at pretty much anything. I could say that I had to take a shit and some cretin would inevitably say: LOL.)
Needless to say, I was banned from the chat room. This made Julian pretty mad because he couldn't go in his chat room for quite a while.
I was watching Julian say goodbye to his various cyber friends, proving my theory of the previous paragraphs.
"Can I say hello to any of your fri
ends?" I asked, cleaning my glasses with my shirt.
"Yeah, right!" Julian said, typing yet another goodbye. "So you can bitchslap them and get me banned again? I had to convince too many people to get back in."
"What, and you don't think they deserve to be bitchslapped?" I asked. As I spoke, I watched as someone named Bippy said LOL to Julian simply because Julian said he had to go. If people laughed out loud that much in the real world you would think that they were on lithium or something.
"Julian, come on! Vlad's waiting for us!"
It was Friday night and Sam and Allison had decided they needed to do "girl's things". It was twenty degrees outside, and had been for the past few weeks. We were going to go down to Lake Angel and have a little campfire before the snow came and blocked us from going up there until spring. I was going to have to sit real close to the fire. I never was one to adjust to the cold.
Finally, Julian wrapped up and we headed down to Vlad's. When Vlad came out of the house he was carrying some sort of metal container, which I soon saw was a can of lighter fluid. I guess he didn't want to wait around long for a fire to start either.
"What took so long?" Vlad asked as he entered the car, his cheeks already flushed red from the cold. The red looked funny in contrast to his corpse-white face.
"Cyber geek here had to say goodbye to his cyber friends."
Julian turned up the volume on the radio so that we couldn't make fun of him any longer.
For some reason the darkness of the woods around Lake Angel seemed menacing tonight, rather than calming. I began to think of Alisa and the way they found her mutilated corpse. In one paranoid moment, I thought I actually saw movement in the dark trees, but it was just the way that the shadows danced in Fat Ethel's headlights.
Vlad went into the trees to find some firewood. I guess he was our designated pyromaniac. Julian and I sat against the hood of the car just enjoying the peace of the woods.
"I like it here," Julian said. His face was half in shadow, although the moon provided a bluish light. The lake seemed so cold. I shuddered to look at its dark surface. There is something about water at night that scares the living hell out of me. I'd never be able to swim in it, I'd keep thinking that something abnormally large was swimming underneath me, just about to grab my ankle.
Vlad came back with a pile of wood in his hands and threw them to the ground about eight feet from where we stood. He pulled the lighter fluid from his pocket and began squirting it over the wood enthusiastically.
"Jesus, Vlad," I said, sitting up on the hood. "You're going to burn the whole goddamn place down."
Vlad poured some lighter fluid on the edge of a stick then lit it up. He put the lit tip against the stack of wood and then stood back as the campfire exploded into life. The clearing where we stood was suddenly brilliantly lit with flames.
"Now that's a campfire!" Vlad shouted a bit too enthusiastically, steam coming from his mouth. He turned and looked over at us, the flames of the fire sending flickering shadows dancing across his face. "When I was a kid, I used to start fires everywhere. My dad had to put me in a home. They told me I could never play with fire again, lest I become addicted. One fire I started killed like three people."
Julian looked at Vlad as if he had just turned green, but I started laughing. I knew that Vlad was kidding, I was getting used to his dry sense of humor.
Vlad returned to the car and sat on the hood, his face still serious. He would never admit he was joking. If you were gullible enough to believe what he was saying than that was your fault. He could care less whether you really thought he was a psychopath.
Julian went to the back of the car and pulled out some milk crates. We took them closer to the fire and sat down, rubbing our hands together. Julian also whipped out a bag of marshmallows and tossed them on the ground.
"Ross stopped using his crutches this week," Julian said, grabbing a marshmallow from the bag and sticking on the end of his stick. "Maybe we'd better be careful for a while. I know he told you he wanted a truce, Harlan, but I don't trust him. He's told me truce all the time, then turned around and beat the living hell out of me."
I smiled. "I always watch my back anyway. I'm a paranoid bastard."
"That you are," Julian said, blowing out the flame of his half-burnt marshmallow.
Vlad reached into his jacket and pulled out the fattest joint I ever saw. It looked like the kind of joint even Cheech and Chong would say was too big.
"I stole it from my Dad," he said, pulling out his trusty lighter and taking a puff. He handed to me. "It's king size rolling paper. The only kind he uses."
"You rule, Vlad," Julian said, watching hungrily as I inhaled a deep puff of smoke.
I pushed up my glasses and scanned the lake for signs of movement. "I shouldn't be smoking this shit," I said, handing the joint to Julian as I exhaled. "I'm paranoid enough."
The calm of the evening was broken by a loud cracking sound nearby, followed by a jarring thud.
"What the hell was that!" I exclaimed, jumping up and looking around nervously.
"Probably a bear, or some shit like that," Vlad said pulling the joint from Julian's hand and inhaling deeply. He hadn't even stood up from his milk crate.
"A fucking bear or 'some shit like that'!" Julian exclaimed. "A bear!" He screeched again, ran into the car, closed the door behind him, and began to scan the trees cartoonishly.
"Or some shit like that!" I yelled to him, laughing at the way he was acting.
I listened for a moment, but heard nothing at all. Not even the scurrying of a small animal. The only sound was the snapping of the fire every ten seconds or so.
I turned my milk crate towards the sound and sat down. Vlad held the burning joint out and I grabbed it and took another puff.
"Bears are more scared of us then we are of them," Vlad said, rubbing his hands eagerly in front of the fire. "If he wants to stay in the car, let him. More for us. We'll be on the fucking moon in like two more minutes."
I held the smoke in for a moment. "Oh really? And what makes you our resident forestry expert?"
From the car, Julian was watching us smoke hungrily. I could see he wouldn't last much longer in there.
"I saw it on National Geographic a couple of weeks ago," he said before he took a long puff of the half-smoked joint. It was actually the size of a cigar. "You really going to kill yourself, Harlan?" he asked, blowing smoke out of his nose as he talked.
The words detonated in the clearing like a bomb. "Who the hell told you that? Julian?"
"I'm not stupid you know, you dope. You and Julian have been speaking and hinting about it for the last couple of months. The nearest that I can figure out is that you plan to kill yourself this summer."
I sighed. I hated talking about it. "I don't know, Vlad. Maybe I should talk about it with you. For a while, I was so serious. The last couple of months have been better for me. I doubt I'll still do it. I love Sam. It's hard to describe the maddening depression that comes over me sometimes, though."
"When were you planning on doing it?" he asked, matter-of-factly.
"May."
"Call me if you still want to do it," he said, staring into my eyes. "I'll help you."
I looked at him in shock. "You're serious?"
"Yes. Harlan, I know what it's like to not be happy. I've spent years having the same thoughts. I tried to kill myself when I was fourteen by taking a bunch of my mom's pills. She found me and rushed me to the hospital. I might even do myself in soon."
The conversation we were having was too bizarre. Looking at it objectively, I realized just how sick it was. It made feel unclean somehow. Like I was plotting something evil and insidious.
"Look, Harlan," Vlad said, seeming to read my thoughts. "I consider you one of my best friends. You are one of the first people to treat me like a real human being. I really look up to you. I can see why so many people at school worship you."
"Those people are wrong, Vlad, to even look up to me. That's b
eginning to bother me. I don't do things at school to be worshipped." I offered him a weak smirk. "I do them because I become unhinged sometimes."
"That's exactly why they worship you, man, don't you get it? You don't give a shit what people think about you. You do what you think is right, damn the consequences. I wish my balls could be as big as yours. Don't say another word. When the time comes and you still want to kill yourself, call me. I'll be there for you, sad as the whole situation is."
Julian got out of the car, still looking around for signs of his bear. He snatched the joint out of my hand. "Gimme dat!"
For the rest of the night, I thought about what Vlad had said about helping with the suicide. It scared the hell out of me. It made everything seem so much more real. It was as if the fact that Vlad was going to help me made it real.
I wasn't afraid of the fact that I was going to kill myself.
I was afraid that I still wanted to do it.
Chapter 18:
Murder Suspect
That Monday we found out some odd news at school. A popular student had been missing since Friday evening. The whole school was talking about it. That in itself wasn't odd, though. The odd thing was that there was a rumor going around that I had actually killed him.
I was the murder suspect.
At nine o'clock I was dragged out of my History class. When I got to the office, Principal Klug had a smug look on his fat face. "There are some people here who would like to ask you a few questions, Harlan."
As I walked through the door, two police officers were eyeing me up suspiciously. One of them, a younger, baby faced guy called Robins, was the very same one that had questioned me on the whole football incident. The other officer's nametag said "Base".
"Have a seat, Mr. Sexton," Robins said, studying my face for signs of guilt.
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