Chapter One ~ Saer Pike
Have you ever heard of the Kenton Memorial Day Bash? Well, you’re really lucky if you haven’t. It’s some stupid town party Kenton throws every year. Leon Fish, the First Township Lead Chairman-otherwise known as the mayor, but he likes the big name-always starts the day off with some long speech about how the town was started. Some time back in 1790, what’s his name, Leon Kenton settled in the capital, Hartford, Connecticut. He found the town boring, small, in other words, stupid. So he took thirty of his best soldiers and his two right hand men and set off to make a new town. When they finally found a large space unsettled, he claimed it his own. Kentonton. Of course, the name was changed later on and they removed the last “ton” in the name, but it as still named after Leon Kenton.
Leon Fish, whom of course, was named after our founder, was an old fart. He could hardly see who was in front of him, and he still claimed he was perfectly well enough to run Fish Market-which was not a fish market at all, but a grocery store. Once Fish stops rambling on about how we started as a part, and became a whole, the party begins, and he keeps talking, and doesn’t realize that no one’s listening anymore. The town leaves the Hall and goes into the blocked streets for a giant block party. That lasts a long time, and once the Kenton Committee cleans up the street, the floats ride on by. The town squeezes onto the sidewalks and waves like psychopathic freaks.
I used to be on one of those floats. My long brown hair would be tied up into two braided, pig tails, my fair skin would have three dots of eye liner on each cheek. I’d wear a knee-high, plaid dress with deep cornstalk yellow shoes. I was Mary Jane. In the 1900’s, I was the daughter of the wealthy farmer who found our great farm patch, where we made much of money from. Soon there was a drought and the farm land dried up and we plowed it over with cement for a street with a bunch of houses and businesses over it. That’s now the center of town. I would stand next to James Kinny. He played Tom, my father and we would wave to the ones on the sidewalk and hand out candy corn (ha ha ha) to all the kids.
But now I wouldn’t dare be Mary Jane. I would die if I had to be her, so my boyfriend, Dranne, his little sister, Maye, was now Mary Jane, and she played the part proudly. Much more than I did. Of course, now and then, she’d pull out her cell phone to check if anyone texted her. But I didn’t care. Not being Mary Jane means I get to hang out with Dranne. He never did anything with the town, and now I joined him.
While the town dosey-doed and sipped their punch, acting like fools on parade, I sat with Dranne in the gazebo. We talked about the day that we would leave Kenton and go somewhere great. Dranne wasn’t going to go to college, at the minimum an online college that would only take three years. We’d be moving to New York, but not too far away from Connecticut, because I still loved my mom. But just because Dranne didn’t have big dreams, didn’t mean I didn’t either. I was planning to go to NYU. I’d major in Journalism, that’s what I wanted to do, then I’d become part of the New York Times staff, and work my way up to becoming the editor. Dranne said my dream was a little far fetched, but I don’t think that at all. Editor of the New York Times? That’s not too hard, right? I mean, I don’t have to become editor. Being on staff is good enough for me. Dranne was excited about it. He said it’d be cool to see me in a bun, with a skirt suit. High heels clicking across the floor, suitcase in my right hand, and a folder with important news information in my other. But then horror washed over me when I realized that Dranne didn’t like work, or to get out of bed. So I pictured me coming home, tired, hair all tussled, bags under my eyes, and then Dranne would scratch his head and pick the crumbs off his chest as I walked into the living room, he’d be sitting on the couch in his underwear watching T.V. It made me freak out. Dranne had to get a job.
Chapter Two ~ Luke Gavner
Moving stinks. No...it’s horrible. You leave all of your friends behind, your school, family that lives near, everyone you care for. I was moving from Boston, Massachusetts to some nowhere town called Kenton in Connecticut. Mom is horrible, doing this to me. I mean, it’s not even the end of the school year and I’m leaving. I’m being tutored at home when I get there because there is no point of starting school when there’s two moths left.
But the thing I was most disappointed about was leaving my home. It was an amazing house, a large Victorian, with a wrap around porch and a large backyard. I had such great childhood memories from that house. Falling out of the tree in back and spraining my ankle, sliding down the banister and smashing into my little sister, breaking her wrist. And who could forget mom locking the fridge, me not knowing, and yanking and yanking until the fridge started to topple over. Luckily the island counter was there to stop it.
Besides all that, my mom says this will be a new experience for me. It will be good. Yeah right! Like mom would know anything about that. My life was over. We were bumping along the road, in dad’s Ford, pick-up truck. I was listening to “Bohemian Rhapsody” by Queen on my iPod, eyes closed, hat over my head, silent. I could hear mom and dad’s faint voices over the chorus, my little sister, Srellia, was playing her GameBoy and reading a magazine, somehow, at the same time. I told my parents I had hated them for this.
“We know.” was all they had to say back. Srellia had to be the little twit and brag about how she didn’t care they were moving and she wanted to move, because it would be a “new adventure.” What a suck up. Mom kissed her forehead and smiled. Telling her how she was glad she felt that way. And then gave me a sad smile. I know my parents just want me to be happy, they’re my parents after all. Of course they want me to be happy. They love me. But that doesn’t stop the fact that they’re dragging me from Boston. Sweet, sweet Boston, my birth place, my life. Massachusetts was home to me. But now I’m going to some hillbilly town in Connecticut. Kenton. Population of five. How could they do this to me?
Mom’s muffled tone got louder. Then louder, as if she was turning to the back seat. Then I was shaken violently and my hat rolled off my face to the dirty floor. “Hmrmrm?” was all that came out of my mouth. Mom was looking back at me from the front seat.
“We’re here.” Mom said quietly, and then opened her door and got out. Srellia and Dad were already out of the car, dragging bags and small boxes out of the car. I didn’t even know the car had stopped. I sat up and rubbed my eyes, staring out at our new home. A dinky, little thing. A small two story house, with a large backyard. Houses surrounded or house, the whole street covered in houses. Why were there so many? Maybe there were actually more people than I thought. And where were the farms and cows? I thought we were in the country. “Mom!” I called, as I inched out of the car. Her head swung out of the front door quickly.
“What is it, dear?”
“I thought we were in the country.”
“Well, we are, Luke. Sort of. We are near a large manufacturing milk farm.” She gave a cute little smile and pulled herself back into the house. The moving van pulled in the dusty drive way soon after we did and Mom started helping them and Dad soon joined. I took several boxes in and my own bags. Once I thought I gave my own share of helping (which mom didn’t agree with later on) I went inside, past the front hall. “I’m claiming my room!” I called.
“No fair!” I heard Srellia’s faint voice cry from outside and she pounded in after me. I quickly bolted up and peeked in each room. There were three. A small one, a large one, and another small one. Quickly, I bounded into the large room, closed and locked the door, and sat on the hardwood floor, the sun pouring in one me from the window behind me. Soon there was loud pounding on my door and Srellia’s screeching cry. “That’s not fair!’ She whined. “You don’t get the big room! Mom, Mom, Mom!!!” her voiced died away as she ran back down stairs. Ahhh. My own room. Mine. Big and mine. There was a knock on my door, a soft, delicate knock, and I knew it couldn’t be Srellia, or dad.
“Huh, Mom?”
“We want you to take your stuff from the front and bring it in here.”
“You mean I get the room?” I swiftly sat up, shocked she hadn’t sided with Srellia.
And as if she was reading my mind, “I don’t always side with Srellia.”
Cool.
“Alright.” I went to the door, unlocked it, and Srellia was fuming in the small room across from mine. She was on the floor, legs crossed, arms crossed, smoke pouring out of her ears. I just smiled, took a bow, and went down stairs.
I dragged my stuff up in three trips, and decided to set up after dinner. It was about 3:00 and I decided just to take a tour of the town.
As I yelled about my departure to mom, she called back for me, right when I got my foot out the door.
“You’re not setting up?”
“Ah, I’ll just do it after dinner.”
“Oh, okay.”
I turned to leave once more when she put her hand on my shoulder. “Hm?”
“Well, today’s Memorial Day, as you may or may not know…”
“Uh huh.” I said irritably.
“Don’t cause trouble. Or make fun. They take pride in their holidays.” She smiled.
“Alright, Sergeant.” I saluted her and walked out into the front.
Mom gave me a sour look, but I didn’t want to look back…just in case. I squinted as the sun poured upon me and I raised my hand to cover my eyes. I decided to go into town. See the sights. And the hillbillies.
Chapter Three ~ Dranne Kurda
Saer is an amazing girl. My girlfriend, to be exact. We’ve been going out for about two years now, and it’s just getting better along the way. I love her smile, her gorgeous green eyes. And they aren’t brown-ish green, like hazel, but green-green. I love how her long, brown, curly hair fell over her shoulders, and now and then, she’d flip it out of the way. But my favorite part about her was her laugh. It was the cutest laugh I have ever heard. Quiet, small, high. She was adorable. She was a great girlfriend.
I was a great boyfriend, too. I always would wait for her after school, so I could walk her home, even though my house was the opposite way. But that’s because I don’t want her getting mugged, but of course, I don’t think Kenton has ever had an issue of muggers. But I was still protective of my girl. Once, for her birthday, I bought her an expensive, beautiful, gold, Tiffany necklace. She flipped when she saw it. Screamed, jumped up and down, hugged and kissed me like crazy. But her parents didn’t approve of such an expensive piece of jewelry hanging around her neck, so she had to give it back. My guess was that her mom was just upset that her husband never bought her anything that beautiful or expensive, so if she couldn’t have it, nor could her daughter. But…that was just a guess, of course.
I’d say we were meant for each other, me and Saer. I think she thinks that, too. We’ve been with each for two years! Doesn’t that mean something? And we’re closer than ever. Together all the time. Ask someone in the town where one of us are, they’ll just say, “Isn’t he with that Saer girl?” or “Saer? She’s with Dranne isn’t she?” But that’s how it is, when you’re in love, right? I’ve been planning when to tell her that for a long time. The right time, it had to be the perfect time. And it was now.
We were sitting in the gazebo, poking fun at the Memorial Day Bashers, acting like the weirdoes they are. Saer had her head on my lap as she twirled her hair. She was going on about what Mandy Miller was wearing today, trashing her hair, clothes, makeup, typical Saer. It’s not like she thrives on trashing people, but she likes to point out the “fashion challenged”, as she calls it.
“Her hair did not look like a tumble weed.” I shook my head.
She chuckled, “Are you serious? Are you blind? She looked like she should be rolling around some ghost town in the Wild West.”
“You’re cruel.” I smiled
“You’re lucky you have me to keep you from being fashion challenged.”
“I’m lucky I have you so you don’t mock me behind my back.”
Saer gave a wicked smile, because she knew it was true. “Well, whatever. Coming to a middle ground, you’re not fashioned challenged.”
“Good. I’ll agree to that.” I nodded. She looked up at me and gave a big, cheesy smile. “Saer. Saer, I have something…something important to tell you.”
Her smile slowly faded as she saw the seriousness on my face.
“Dranne?”
“Saer…I love you.” I said slowly.
Saer looked away from me and stared out towards the sky. She sat up and kept her gaze away from my eyes.
“Saer? Did…you hear me?”
“Dranne-”
“I said I love you.” My eyes filled with worry, anger, pain, and hate, all at the same time. “Saer, I said I love you.” My voice trembled.
Saer slowly nodded her head. “I love you too, Dranne.” She whispered as she wiped away a tear.
I looked down and sighed. I grabbed Saer’s shoulders and pulled her to my chest. She looked up at me and I gave a weak, pitiful smile. We sat there for a while, silent. “Dranne,” she said. “I want to go. I want to go home.”
A knife of pain stabbed my heart, a trickle of pain rolled down it. “Sure. Let’s go.” I got up and started walking to my car.
“I...want to walk.” Saer said quietly.
“No problem. I’ll just come-”
“Alone.” She peeped.
I stood there, shocked, but showing nothing on my face. “Sure thing.” I nodded. “I’ll just,” I rubbed the back of my head, “catch you later, I guess.”
“Mmm...yeah.” Saer mumbled.
Saer walked down the steps of the gazebo slowly and didn’t look back. “Saer, are we still on for tomorrow?” I called, but she didn’t look back.
Either she didn’t hear me, or she just didn’t want to.
Next: Chapters Four, Five and Six
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Submission Name: Through Another's Eyes (Ch.1, 2, 3)
