leash, shoves it in his front pocket and continues into the Café. He makes sure the chew toy is nice and snug in a hoodie pocket zipped shut.
Night holds his hand out like a good gentleman for Lane to take; she smacks it away with gusto. Grabbing her hand anyway, he brings her finger to his lips and slimes it. Grossed out, she smacks him in the face which is a horribly un-lady like thing to do and the teenage girls sitting on the brown leather couch around the coffee table, stare.
But Lane doesn’t seem to notice her social, inappropriate blunder. Night shouldn’t have licked her; he’s being a disobedient pet.
“I’m not your pet Lane.” Night smirks, shoving her onto a free couch.
“Are you in my head right now; reading my thoughts?” She’s appalled.
“More like you’re broadcasting YOUR words into my head; it’s a little bit disturbing. You are SO weird for a girl.” Night marches over to the counter, leaving Lane all by herself to be stared at by everyone in the Café. She snuggles into Night’s hoodie; pretending it’s a shield between her and the rest of the room. It doesn’t work.
“Why,” A mean voice snickers; kicking her foot with his high top basketball kicks, “If it isn’t Lane. Missed you at school today; needed someone to buy me lunch. I went hungry ‘til Miss Manning made me get lunch anyway; had to use my OWN money; my OWN allowance. That better not be happening tomorrow. Yah feel me?” This time the kick is to her knee.
Al is the Elm Elementary School’s number one bully; Kip is number two. But they’re best friends so if one is harassing Lane then so is the other; tag-team style. NOT a good combo. Lane’s fallen prey to their horribleness ever since first grade when she moved to the Town from the City. Lane’s a fourth grader this year; Kip’s in middle school and Al is in fifth.
Kip picks Al up after school EVERY day; torturing all the walkers, waiting until their half way down the block from school before starting in on the name calling and soda bottle hurling. Last Monday Evan got beat up by Kip so bad that he came to school the next day with a black eye. Ms. Turner, the principle, called the middle school and had him kicked out for the rest of the week; he was supposed to come back today.
Unfortunately it doesn’t matter; both of the horrible boys live on Lane’s block, three houses away for Kip and five houses across for Al. Tommy, Lane’s best friend, used to live in the house behind her before he moved, now a nice family with a two and three year old live there. The little boys are always playing in the backyard, waving hi to Lane.
But, Lane is not pleased to see Al and Kip in the Café when she’s so very alone, sitting on a couch, waiting for a strange kid she met today to come back from the long line at the register.
“I AM sick!” She growls like a caged beast. “Come closer, I’ll breathe my sick germs all over you!” Lane spits on him; nailing him in the chest. The spittle rolls down the bright white skull on his shirt. She shouldn’t have done that and she knows it. Instantly she regrets it, trying to hide in the seat cushion.
Al angrily snarls, “I’m telling on you Lane! I’m going to tell Ms Turner that you’re not really SICK and you ditched school. I saw you leave this morning but then you weren’t there. If only SHE knew, you’d be in…”
“Then she’ll tell everyone that you have a crush on Lisa and you dream about playing Xbox with her – one of those really girly games too.” Night snickers, plopping down on the couch, sliding in a little too close to Lane for her liking.
He might not say he’s her pet but he’s acting like her puppy.
“I’m still NOT your pet Lane.” Night giggles in her ear; she freezes, horrified.
“I do not like Lisa!” Al’s voice breaks and raises an octave when he says her name; his face flushing red.
“You especially like her pretty pink pants, the ones with the little skulls on them and the matching white top and black boots.” Night sticks his tongue out, daring him to rebuttal.
Al doesn’t. He huffs and scowls and stumps away with Kip in his wake. Lane knows she’s in for it tomorrow; she’ll have to hide in the closet at lunch and sacrifice not eating for the day.
“No you won’t.” Night snickers, bopping her in the nose with a super-sized brownie, handing her a steaming cup of yummy hot chocolate with whipped cream and chocolate shavings on top. “And stop BROADCASTING so loud. It’s making my brain hurt; quit it already.”
“WHY can you hear my head speak?” She hisses; annoyed, tapping her foot in frustration.
Night shrugs but doesn’t answer; pretending he didn’t hear the question as he fixates on his large tomato and chilly burger with bacon and a meat ball smashed together in a bun. Lane looks at him in awe as he stuffs half of it into his mouth; she delicately chomps down on the brownie, sipping the hot chocolate slowly. ‘
Dog House
“So,” Lane proudly presents Night with the spot. “This is where you’re going to sleep! Great place huh?”
Fifteen minutes ago, Lane had sprinted home with Night in tow, wary of her mom getting home from her date; finding an empty house, devoid of her one and only daughter. She’d quickly unlocked the door, flicked on every single light in the house – terrified of vampires and monsters and trolls and all other scary stuff that MIGHT be hiding in her house – and unlatched the basement door, pretending the kitchen isn’t a mess.
Her mom isn’t a very good cook but when she does try, the house practically explodes – the fire alarm goes off and the microwave catches fire and the pots she accidentally forgot and left on the stove get toasted. Yesterday, the fire department stopped by when her neighbor noticed that the barbeque was still lit well past ten o’clock at night. Lane had been asleep; so was her mom.
Her mom had shoved ALL of the dirty and completely torched looking plates and stuff into the sink. They’re still there; so is the water she sank them into last night. There are no more bubbles left on the surface of the liquid; just greasy, gross sludge. So it was no surprise that no one had questioned Lane being at the Café, it was just strange that she was sans her mom.
She did not want Night to see the horrible debacle but he noticed all the same. He didn’t say anything; like he had expected the kitchen to be such a train wreck.
She’d pretty much ushered him down the rickety old basement stairs as quick as she could, practically eating a huge, body sized cobweb, on her way down. The little pieces sticking to her like gross tacky glue.
The basement is unkempt – no one EVER comes down here. It’s the land of forgotten broken toasters and dismantled toys and stuff. It’s like its own little planet. Planet X349…
She took him past the broken fake nylon holiday tree and the row of scary Halloween masks her father used to make (she’s still terrified of those) and an old beat up mattress with a spring sticking out. It’s super old; Lane doesn’t think they’re even made with those anymore.
Finally they stop in front of a gigantic dollhouse, nearly the same height as Lane and an old beat up leather couch her dad had forgotten to take with him when he moved out. She smiles as wide as a deranged scary clown and points to it.
BUT, Night does NOT think this is such a good place to sleep. He shakes his head no. “Once AGAIN, I am NOT your pet Lane. You can’t just stick me in the corner and expect me to just sit down and go to sleep. For starters, I’m NOT tired and neither are you but you’re mom just got home so you have to go play pretend. Meet me back down here when she falls asleep. If you don’t than I’ll be invading YOUR memories tonight and laughing at you tomorrow morning.”
Lane can’t let that happen. Displeased, she grabs his hand and steers him to the couch, shoving him on it. “Why can’t you be normal like all of the…”
There’s a crash and a bang from above. Mom’s home and fiddling around in the kitchen; the water turns on and she screams a slew of profanities. Her date must have been an epic failure.
Lane, like any SANE creature, doesn’t want to
go upstairs and endure the wrath of her mom.
“YOU HAVE to go.” Night pulls her hard; she lands head first on the concrete floor. “If you don’t go now, you’ll be super-sized grounded. You’re mom’s not in a mood to be reckoned with.”
“Reckoned with?”
“Messed with, whatever...” Night snarls. “Just GO upstairs and come see me when she’s asleep.”
“LANE APPLE PEERI WHERE ARE YOU! GET DOWN HERE NOW!”
“Now you’re in super-sized trouble.” Night furrows his eyebrows and cocks his head listening to something. “AND she knows you cut school; your father called her because the school called him. You’re going to be in a ridiculous amount of trouble tomorrow. Sorry.”
But he’s not sorry and Lane can tell. And for some strange reason, she’s not either. Shrugging, she heads upstairs to confront her punishment head on.
Her mom is extremely shocked when Lane creeps through the basement door; even more surprised that her one and only daughter’s pants are covered in mud.
Lane listens intently as her mom rehashes her boring work day and her less then exciting date with Rob the computer analyst whose office is the cubical right next to her mom’s. But the conversation does a fast emotional tilt-a-whirl when her mom goes from downtrodden to tornado spinning mad in one point two seconds. She yells and yells at the top of her lungs; the sound of
Wake the Dream - Book One Page 4