Walking Among the Shadows: Awakening: Revised Edition (12 page)

“Okay, will do.”

“Thank you for your time,” he
said as he left.

I walked to the living room
and flopped on the couch allowing my entire body to sink into the leather. I
peeked out the window, watching the officers get in their vehicles and leave
but not before they mocked the rude officer for being checked by my mom. I
could hear some of them say how hot my mom was and making silly animal noises.
How did these morons ever pass the entry exam for the police academy was beyond
me; somebody was high on something when they were grading their papers.

It was like watching frat boys
at a party talking about a hot teacher. And to think men who could legally
carry firearms behaved that way was even more disturbing. But I was happy to
see them leave. To say I dodged a bullet was an understatement. More like
dodging a freakin’ freight train. My mom walked over to me with a concerned
look.

“Aiden, I’m sorry I didn’t
tell you about the tracking device on the car. But with how the city has gotten
lately and that car being so…how you kids say it? ‘Off the hook.’ I needed to
be careful and make sure you and Tony were safe. I know you are angry and
surprised, but just know I did it to keep you safe.”

“Aww, Mom!” Sarah and I yelled
in unison. Sarah had joined us downstairs after the police left.

“C’mon, you used our slang.
Now it’s tainted. We can’t use it anymore,” I protested.

“What?”

“Yeah, the rules are if your
parents start saying things like ‘off the hook,’ ‘real talk,’ ‘that’s a good
look,’ ‘fo-shizzle,’ ‘holla back,’ or any of our slangs, we have to stop using
them immediately,” explained Sarah.

“And now that you have used
‘off the hook’ we are forbidden to use it again in this house. And I really
liked that one too,” I complained.

“Me too,” agreed Sarah.

My mom was standing there
looking at both of us smiling.

“Can I say it though?” she
asked.

“Yep, you can use it. It’s
yours now.”

“Oh wow! I’m so fortunate to
be the proud owner of the ‘off the hook’ phrase. I should call my publisher,”
she said sarcastically. “Seriously, Aiden, are we okay?”

“Yeah, Mom, it’s cool, I get
your point,” I lied. “I may not like it, but I understand.”

“I’ll change the code right
now so that those idiots can’t track you anymore. I don’t trust them; they are
way too high-strung to be police officers. But I won’t take it off until you
turn eighteen.”

I didn’t like the idea of my
mom being able to track my whereabouts in my car. But I knew if I didn’t go
along with her terms I would be without my car until I was eighteen. No
supervision equals no car. Supervision equals car.

I’ll take supervision for 500,
Alex!

Sometimes we have to make hard
choices. This wasn’t one of them.

“So, how was your night?” my
mom asked with a probing stare.

“It was great! We had a lot of
fun.”

“That’s great, Aiden. I’m
happy you had a great time and made it home safe without incident.”

Ha, without incident?

If she only knew I was well on
my way to claiming my first victim. I could feel myself changing, getting more
aggressive, self-centered, and paranoid. I was starting to care more about how
I was viewed by others than how I viewed myself. At first I just thought it was
a teenager-thing, but after last night I knew things were different inside me.
I still can’t explain how I got inside Jasmine’s house without setting off the
alarm. Also, to get there faster than Tony in a car was even more disturbing.
After discovering my mother was also keeping tabs on me, I should have forgiven
Tony. But I was too arrogant and proud. I allowed my fear and anger to control
my actions and I justified to myself that forgiving my mom was acceptable, but
forgiving Tony was out of the question.

“Who was that on the phone?”
Sarah asked.

“Oh, it was the coach.”

“What did he say? You are
fired!” she teased, mimicking Donald Trump’s reality show.

“Actually, Cruella Deville, he
told me I would be starting until further notice.”

“Wow, so the starting running
back died?” Sarah began laughing at her own joke but my mom wasn’t laughing.

“Actually, Sarah, yes he did
die last night. They said he had a heart attack and died. Eyes wide open with a
look of horror on his face. Whatever he saw was so terrifying that it caused a
seventeen-year-olds heart to stop cold in his chest. I was upstairs talking to
his mother when the police started banging on the door, she’s on the
parent-teacher board at the high school, very sweet lady, a little detached
from reality but sweet.”

Sarah’s face went white. “Mom,
are you serious?”

“Afraid so, baby.”

“Aiden, I’m sorry, I didn’t
know.”

She didn’t know?  Neither did
I!

As my mom told the story of
the starting running back’s death, I replayed the phone call with the coach in
my head and I overheard him mention a tragedy, but I was so focused on the
exchange between my mom and the officers that I didn’t process what he was
saying to me. I pretended that I was aware of the student’s death.

“What’s his name?” Sarah
asked.

As I sat there I realized I
had no idea what his name was nor did I have any emotional investment to find
out. Here it is his untimely death opened the opportunity for me to start at
running back and not knowing his name was okay with me. Had this scene played
out three months ago I would’ve reacted differently.

“Steven Gray,” my mom answered

“Where did they find him,
Mom?” Sarah asked.

“His body was found less than
a block away from the house that got broken into last night. The police suspect
the  break in and his death may be related.”

I felt myself go cold with the
revelation that my intrusion at Jasmine’s home and Steven’s death were somehow
related. There is a sense of total and complete hopelessness that overcomes you
when you fully understand that you are no longer in control of your actions.
And fear; fear so deep and thick it feels like a part of you, like an extra
organ growing deep inside of you. Did I kill Steve? I couldn’t remember
anything after I blacked out besides that horrible nightmare, and me waking up
at Jasmine’s. How I got there and everything in between was a blank space in
time like someone removed that portion of my memory. But in light of the
current circumstances I didn’t know if I really wanted to recall my actions…..

T
he
weekend went by as a blur. To this day I can’t remember specific details after
that Saturday afternoon. The following week was the same; I was just on
autopilot trying to cope with having such a dark secret inside me, and my best
friend exiled  from my life. The funeral for Steven Gray was being held on
Friday, and Saturday was our first game of the season. The entire team had
pledged to attend. I wasn’t looking forward to it but I had no choice. The
police were still looking for the intruder and they believed Steven’s untimely
death was also related to the break-in. I needed to keep a low profile so as
not to draw any unwanted attention to me. I always remained wary that Tony
would speak up one day, so I tried avoiding him at school as much as possible.
I figured if I wasn’t on his mind, he would forget about Friday night. I’m not
sure how insane I was becoming but that line of thinking made me feel like I
was well on my way to being a stamped and certified nutcase.

I still felt like there was a
slight chance my activities on the night of my birthday celebration and Steve’s
death weren’t related and a good medical explanation would be forthcoming. I
held on to that hope and it kept me going during the week leading up to the
funeral and our first game. But like all things, that hope had to end and it
ended after practice on Friday in the locker room. The funeral was scheduled
that evening to allow the students to attend. So we decided to have one last
practice before the game Saturday. Ronald Brice, the starting safety was the
son of Deerfield’s coroner and he always had the scoop on deaths and details concerning
someone’s demise in our city’s limits. I could overhear him on the other side
of the locker room, discussing Steve’s death. I tried to ignore him and tune
him out, but when I heard him say that the police purposely lied about Steve’s
death I had to walk over to find out what he was talking about.

“What do you mean ‘they
lied’?” one of my teammates inquired. “They said he had a heart attack.”

“Dude! C’mon! Steve? He was
only seventeen and he was an ox. No way that healthy dude died of heart failure
and he didn’t have any history of heart problems. It’s not even in his family’s
history.”

“So, tell us what happened to
him then,” one of the teammates said.

“You really wanna know?”

“No, not really,” I responded
without thinking.

“Well, the truth needs to be
known, so, Aiden, your request is denied. He had his throat slashed till his
head was nearly severed.”

The entire room broke out in a
roaring laugh. I even found myself laughing at Ronald’s revelation.

“Aw, ya’ll think it’s funny?
You don’t believe me?”

“No!” we all responded in
unison.

“Dude, this is Deerfield, not
Chicago, Elm Street, or Crystal Lake. Things like that don’t go down here,”
Brian said. “And I think it’s extremely disrespectful to Steve’s memory for you
to make up that kind of story about his death.”

“Okay, now have I ever led any
of you astray?”

“Well, yeah, that time you
said the police found a body behind the school and it was half eaten and the
teeth marks couldn’t be identified,” Brian responded.

“That was true, they covered
it up.”

“Oh, so little Deerfield has
conspiracies and cover-ups? C’mon, Ron, I can say most of the time your info is
on point, but Steve’s head getting cut off?”

“Almost, I said almost,”
corrected Ron.

“Okay, almost cut off. But,
Ron, this is Steve and it’s disrespectful to his memory to lie about his death
like that. Not cool, dude. You lost a lot of cool points with me on this one.”

“I’m not lying!” Ronald
screamed. You could see the frustration and seriousness in his eyes and I
wanted and needed to hear more of what he had to say, because inside I knew the
heart attack story made no sense at all.

“Okay, okay! Let’s hear him
out,” I interjected. “But, Ron, this better be actual or you have a good
team-hazing in your future. Deal?”

“Deal!” he agreed without
hesitation.

“Wait! I am the captain of
this team, not you,” challenged the quarterback. “And I don’t want to hear this
crap. Steve was my friend and I don’t want to remember him this way.”

“Well, you may be the captain
on the field, but you have no say on what we want to hear off the field,” I
snapped back.

“You wanna go?” Brian
challenged with anger in his eyes. “I’m not my big brother. I won’t just fall
on the floor!”

“Wait! Wait! C’mon, guys, this
is stupid,” Ronald protested. “We shouldn’t be fighting. Steve wouldn’t want
this.”

“Steve’s dead, Ron. He don’t
want anything anymore,” responded Brian. “Listen, if ya’ll want to listen to
this crap, you can, but I don’t have to. I’m out of here!”

As the quarterback turned to
leave I could see Ronald becoming desperate. Whatever he had to tell was
extremely important to him to get out.

“They suspect a serial killer
is on the loose in Deerfield and the surrounding areas!” he yelled out behind
the quarterback.

Brian stopped dead in his
tracks.

“They lied because they don’t
want us to panic, but that’s real,” Ron continued. “There were markings all
over Steve, carved in his flesh, patterns they can’t explain. His body isn’t
even in the casket. The FBI has it, studying it for clues. They want to keep it
hush and they are hoping the killer was just passing through.”

Brian turned and charged
Ronald with the intent on knocking him to the floor and Ronald just stood there
waiting for the impact. I quickly jumped in Brian’s path to prevent him from
pounding Ronald. Brian stopped and stood face-to-face with me. Now his rage was
concentrated on me and I could tell my presence made him want to erupt in a
fury of violence.

“Get out of my way!”

“No! Beating on Ron doesn’t
change that what he says makes sense.”

“I swear,” Ron protested.
“It’s the truth. I’m not happy having this news, but we need to be careful,
because any of us could be next. If you still don’t believe me, look at the
funeral service program. It says ‘closed casket, please don’t touch the
casket.’ Look, I got a copy of the pamphlet.” He pulled out the program for the
funeral service and began showing everyone. And just like he said there it was
in bold capitalized underlined letters:
THE FAMILY RESPECTFULLY ASKS
THAT EVERYONE REFRAIN FROM OPENING OR TOUCHING THE CASKET!