*TWO*
*Scothbury High*
Students' cars pulled up in the driveway; one after the other in their different brands and makes.
Eric arrived in his dad's old jeep at exactly eight minutes before the bell.
His dad's old jeep- he liked to call it Viola. It was a pretty name for a vehicle. No doubt.
As he sat in the vehicle -in Viola, he played with his dark hair in the mirror, parting it to the side and tossing it a little here and there.
"Wind always does this..." he hummed to himself.
Once he felt satisfied with the look of it, he flung the cardoor open and hopped out of the vehicle as the cool breeze greeted his face.
"The old girl's still holding up good." He hummed to himself again as he inspected Viola's hind and patted it fondly.
The young man was accustomed to keeping his own company. It was as good as it was detrimental ... and bizarre of course, especially considering the fact that he was-
"Good morning, handsome."
A slender girl in auburn locks stood before him, leaning across Viola.
It was Mackenzie Waters from science class –he really didn't like this girl–
Eric's brows shot up and then furrowed in foreshadowed frustration.
"Mackenzie," he muttered as he strapped his bag to his shoulder and looked to his sides, like he was looking for something. "Good morning."- Finally spoke up.
"What are we looking for?" The girl helped him
search too.
As she leaned towards him, the pearl beads on her white blouse scratched the surface of Viola's beautiful hind.
Eric paled with shock and displeasure. "Nothing, nothing." He hummed and subtly moved her away from Viola.
"Ugh, God." He muttered under his breath.
"So, are you gonna ask me to prom?" Mackenzie grinned and flung her auburn hair around.
"Look, Mackenzie. The thing is..."
DRRING!!
The bell suddenly went off.
"Saved by the bell." Eric muttered and nursed a faint smile.
"The thing is?!" Mackenzie pressed on with furrowed brows.
"I like your blouse." He commented awkwardly and scurried off.
As painstaking minutes ran into torturous hours, Eric sat in his class all day, creating several excuses to wait around for blonde girl to show up.
–But she never did–
"Yes, we do have a transfer student but she called in sick today. A friend of yours, Coleman?"
Mr Rickinghall said when he had asked him.
"No, sir..." The young man's voice slurred with disappointment as he dragged his feet out of Rickinghall's office.
●●
He was there again at dawn. The sunset, the grass, the trees, all of it –just like it had been yesterday–
The smell of wet grass engulfed his nostrils again, unable to calm his troubled nerves this time.
He stood on the spot and saw it all again; the sunset, her silhouette, blonde hair and all... Blonde girl was unarguably the most interesting thing he ever saw.
Eric saw it all over again in his mind– and then he recalled the baggage and put it all together in his head.
"Why would they offload their luggage in the middle of the field?" He murmured.
There was everything strange about the encounter.
But it was only a matter of time until he figured it out again– Eric was quite an intelligent young man.
"Their car must've broken down." He mused.
But then why weren't they at the workshop yesterday? He asked within himself, knowing fully well that his father's workshop was the only one in the small town.
The young man picked a stick that was lying around, squatted and started drawing indistinct figures on the grass.
"If my car was to break down in a new town, what would I do?" He asked in a thoughtful murmur, then drew more figures on the ground.
Then he had it!- they'd probably spent the night at Mac Spencer Motel downtown ... and then, decided to fix their car earlier that day.
"Dad!" He exclaimed to himself and ran off like something was chasing him.
●●
Mr Coleman was knee-deep in giving an old station wagon new life when Eric ran into the workshop.
"Dad! Dad!" The young man yelled as he neared.
"Christ, boy! You almost scared me to death." His old man wiped his hands on a rag.
"I gotta ask you something."
"Is everything alright? I mean, you're sweating and it's cold out." Mr Coleman remarked.
"I'm okay. It's just ..." Eric caught his breath as he leaned across his knees. "I'm sorry." He lifted a finger in the air as he took deep breaths.
"Did you really run all the way here?" Mr Coleman asked with a hand on his son's shoulder.
"Yeah ... and I regret it." The young man replied, finally catching his breath.
"You wanted to ask something?"
"Yes, sir. Uh, Did anyone come in with a car lately?"
"Yeah, Mr Waters came in earlier with a convertible for his daughter Mackenzie. The exhaust was a bit–"
"No, no. I mean like a new family in town. They have a daughter about my age ... she's a blonde." Eric explained.
"Oh, they did come in late last night but you went to bed pretty early, kid. Is there a problem?"
Eric's shoulder slouched in disappointment.
"No," he replied weakly and turned around to leave the garage.
"Hey, hey. Is something wrong, kiddo?" Mr Coleman asked.
"No, dad. I just need some rest; had a big day with the math test..." his voice slurred.
He was about leaving when his old man caught him by the shoulder.
"Is it something about the girl?"
"A girl?!" Eric exclaimed, trying to hide his embarrassment. "No. It's definitely ... not about the girl. I mean, there are many ... blondes – out – there." He slid his hands into his jacket pocket as he stuttered.
"So why are you so interested in this couple and their blonde daughter?" Mr Coleman nursed a mischievous grin.
"You see, uh... their car. I haven't seen the model around town so I was hoping to interrogate them about their ... car." He lied.
"Well, too bad son. I already finished with it and they picked it up this morning." He explained.
Eric's face tightened as he wore a sullen expression.
"But..." he continued. "I happen to have an address so if you can grab your tool box, you'll have a chance to 'interrogate' them ... about their car."
Eric's hazelnut eyes lit up in excitement.
"A-address?" He muttered.
"Yeah!" His father retrieved a small piece of paper from a table at the corner of the workshop and handed it to him.
Eric stared down at the address in his hand and went dead silent.
Then he lifted his head and stared his father right in the eye and said; "Thank you."
●●
*24 Brian Street*
Eric read the address for the umpteenth time as he stood at the front door of the ...
"Rodriguez," he read the family's name off the address too.
Eric's heart thumped inside of his chest. Questions bubbled up in his mind.
What do I do?– What do I say?–
"This is stupid." He murmured to himself. "What the heck do I think I'm doing. I don't know these people."
The young man breathed in deeply and left their doorstep.
He didn't knock. With the toolbox in his hand, he descended the flight of steps that led to the door and began walking away.
His eyes longingly drifted back to the door every half–a-step he took.
Blonde girl was literally on the other side. He wanted to see her, wished he could but ... wasn't brave enough. What would he tell the couple he was looking for?– the silhouette of an angel?...
Eric kept looking back at the Rodriguez' front door.
It was quite unfortunate when he didn't see the bump on the pavement and stumbled.
Eric fell flat on his face ... and when he looked up from the ground, there she was!...
NOW ERIC IS IN A TIGHT SPOT...
WHAT DO YOU THINK WOULD HAPPEN NEXT?
