Wayne Keeso
Middle Class Poster
Turtle School Initiate
Posts: 63
Race: Human
Dice: 2d47
EXP: 2,750
Zeni: 575
HP: 56
SP: 5,318
Transformations: Power UP!!
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Post by Wayne Keeso on Feb 7, 2017 10:29:07 GMT -5
Wayne was only thirteen when he had gotten into his first real scrap. He had been fighting ever since.
It was fifteen minutes past five o’clock in the morning that Monday morning when the alarm clock began to screech on his headboard. Wayne had been awake before the device went off, as he always was. It merely signaled that it was time for him to rise up out of bed and get his morning chores accomplished before the school bus came. Shaking off what little morning grogginess he had, he slipped on his work clothes and laced boots in a few moments. Standing in the middle of his room, the same room that in eleven years would be destroyed by fire, he stretched and yawned before heading downstairs.
The clattering of his boots alerted his mother, Linda, who had been in the kitchen long before Wayne or anyone else in the Keeso household had woken. The sounds and smells of sizzling bacon and eggs wafted up into the stairwell towards the second floor. The reason Wayne could always wake up earlier than his alarm was because of his mother’s cooking. He plopped himself down into a chair at the table just as his mother placed a full plate down before him with a glass of milk accompanying it.
He cleared the plate like he hadn’t eaten in a few days. This was fairly commonplace. Wayne was tall for his age and would continue to grow, but he was still very lanky and thin. His frame wouldn’t fill out for another few years. A decade of hard labor and eating big would help with that. Just as Wayne’s fork clattered onto the plate signifying the end of his meal, the soft patter of footsteps in the stairwell notified Wayne of his sister’s arrival.
“Late, per usual.” Michelle wasn’t what you called a morning person. She was quite familiar with the snooze button on the alarm. Unlike Wayne, she stumbled down to breakfast later and still in her pajamas. Linda smiled before turning to load up another plate for her daughter. Michelle flashed a middle finger to her brother before sitting down at the opposite end of the table. Wayne smirked before rising up to leave his sister and her bedhead to their breakfast.
As early as this family awoke, Wayne’s father Marshall had already been tending to the homestead. The bus wouldn’t arrive at the end of the lane for another hour and it was Wayne’s job to do some of the more menial tasks around the farm. He’d go about feeding and watering the chickens to start. The smell and noise the birds made would snap him awake to the fullest extent if he wasn’t already. He’d do the same thing for the goats, and milk them as well. Then there would usually be one additional task from his father who was just coming out of the barn.
“Wayne, I got Sandy’s hooves soaked. Why don’t you go on over and give them a clean and a quick trim if they need it. Shouldn’t take ya too long. Reckon you’ll be able to grab a quick shower before the bus comes then.” He nodded at his father and jogged over to the barn. Sandy was one of their older horses and had been around since Wayne was a tiny child. A big brown mare, she stood with one of her back hooves in a small pool. Slipping on some gloves, Wayne grabbed a hook knife, rasp, and nippers. He laid the tools on a small wooden stool near the horse.
Easing the right rear hoof out of the pool, Wayne checked the bottom of Sandy’s hoof. The water had loosened some of the packed dirt. It looked like it had been awhile since anyone had tended to Sandy. His gloved hand clutched the hooked knife. Straightening his wrist, he raked against the dirt with it in a long powerful stroke. Dirt that had been caked for probably weeks began to fall out in clumps. A couple more minutes of this and you could actually see the hoof again. He examined the outer wall, checking to make sure the length was even. “Don’t think you’ll need a trim on this one, just a bit of filing ought to do.” He set the knife back down and picked the rasp. A few minutes of this and the hoof was leveled. Satisfied, he performed the same procedure on the three other hooves. The sun had finally started to come out when he could hear his father yell from outside the barn.
“Wayne! Bus has come early. Best you get to steppin’ or you’ll miss it and you ain’t gonna be the boy that misses school this year.” Marshall wasn’t about to be the father that let his son miss school just because of happenstance. Tumbling through the barn doors, Wayne’ clothes showed that he had been cleaning hooves for the past thirty minutes. There were blotches of dirt on his shirt and jeans. He had worked up a bit of a sweat as well.
The large yellow bus had stopped just at the end of the lane and honked once. Michelle came out of the house with her book bag and threw Wayne his as they briskly jogged towards their ride to school. “No time for a shower this morning I see.” She said, looking at how unkempt and dirty he was. Without even batting an eye at her, he extended his middle finger towards her, dishing out some revenge from earlier at breakfast.
His boots clattered onto school bus’s stairs, dragging a bit of dirt with them. Finding his seat, he would realize that he wasn’t the only boy who had gotten a bit dirty this morning. Most of the kids on this bus were from outside Stows and lived on farms like Wayne and Michelle. At school, this bus was eloquently referred to as the “Hick Bus”. They were picked up the earliest because they had the longest drive into Stows. Most of the kids had a certain edge to them. They’d been working harder and longer than most students at school and that usually ends up putting a chip on your shoulder. It did for Wayne at least.
The bus’s engine growled as it rumbled forward. In about a half an hour, Wayne and his sister would be at school.
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Wayne Keeso
Middle Class Poster
Turtle School Initiate
Posts: 63
Race: Human
Dice: 2d47
EXP: 2,750
Zeni: 575
HP: 56
SP: 5,318
Transformations: Power UP!!
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Post by Wayne Keeso on Feb 7, 2017 16:20:37 GMT -5
The bus rolled to a stop outside of Stows Junior High. The thirty or so students on the bus, including Wayne and his sister were soon inside the large brick building, read to start their day of readin’, writin’, and ‘rithmetic. Wayne was at best an average student. He tried hard in class, was always polite to his teachers, and had never missed a day of school. He as ‘B’ student at best. Schooling for his sister, on the other hand, came natural and she spent very little time working and much more time socializing. They were quite the opposite of one another in this respect.
Everything was progressing along rather normally. The first three forty five minute periods flew by, but as most know, the closer it gets to the lunch the more ornery students tend to become. The trouble first started in math class, one in which Wayne admittedly struggled. As Wayne walked into class and set his books on his desk, he could already tell that there was going to be some sort of trouble. One of the biggest students in the entire school, Matt Kinney, sat behind him in this class. He was a hulking boy and would soon be fifteen. He had failed multiple classes over the year and fit your stereotypical school bully profile.
“Whew! You can just about smell the cow dung on Wayne today boys! Sheesh, look at him, he’s dang near head to toe smothered in it! Take a shower Wayne, for our sake at least.” He cackled, his rotund stomach jiggling as he did. Matt’s gut was so big it spilled out onto the desk. A few of the other boys the back, no names really just those kind of kids that faded into obscurity, began to take notice and laugh along with him.
Taking a long look at Kinney, Wayne sighed and seemed quite unamused. “There’s your one for the day Kinney. Try to savor it a bit, doesn’t look like you spend too much savoring anything. Better just to cram as much into your gullet as possible then.” Wayne’s face turned to a half smirk before he turned and sat down. The group of boys in the back now laughed, loudly at that, as Wayne delivered a poignant retort to the portly boy. Before Matt could respond, he choked back his words as the teacher stepped into the room. Mr. Richardson was a stern disciplinarian and you’d be thrown out of his class sure as the sun will rise for the sort of tomfoolery they were engaging in.
“Don’t think for a second this over.” Matt whispered into his ear as the teacher turned his back to write on the whiteboard in the front of the class. As the bully finished his whisper, Mr. Richardson’s neck snapped around staring at both Wayne and Matt. You couldn’t get anything past this guy. Both of them immediately stared down at their papers and began copying down what Mr. Richardson had wrote on the board. Satisfied that the disturbance had ended, Richardson continued copying several algebra problems on the board. The squabble between the two boys, though, was just beginning.
Twenty or so minutes into class, Matt began to rev up his antics again. During Mr. Richardson’s lecture, Matt had been very delicately tearing off little strips of paper from separate piece of paper. With his large doughy hands, he had been quietly amassing an arsenal of paper balls. He only had to wait for the perfect moment to strike. His eyes locked onto the back of Wayne’s cleanly shaven head, a stark contrast to the greasy mop of brown hair that hung about him. His gaze shifted to Richardson, his lecture about algebra continued to drone on. Suddenly, the classroom phone rang and Mr. Richardson was forced to suspend his sermon on equations for a moment. As he turned to answer the phone, Matt put one of the paper balls in his mouth and coated it with his saliva. God only knew the last time a toothbrush or mouthwash had entered that dark cavern.
Things slowed down, Mr. Richardson’s voice seemed far away. Apparently the conversation had shifted to something private and the teacher was forced to step outside the classroom door. The bully’s moment had arrived. Sucking in wind through his nostrils, he forcefully loosed the projectile from his mouth as he forcefully expired. The spit ball burst from his mouth, completely drenched in saliva, and smacked Wayne dead center in the back of the head. Matt watched in pure ecstasy as the spitball rolled down the back of Wayne’s neck, leaving a trail that a slug would be envious off. The ball harmlessly plopped onto the ground between Wayne’s chair and his desk. Several students in the back saw the events transpire and loosed a hearty cacophony of laughs.
Simultaneously, Wayne’s left hand reached to the back of his head after feeling the gentle thud and wet sensation on his skin. He immediately recognized what Matt had done to him and a rage boiled up in him. Both of his arms extended forwards and slammed on his desk, causing it to rocket towards the front of the classroom several feet. He rose up from his chair, pushing it out of the way. As Wayne stood, so did Matt and the entire class was expecting a brawl to happen right then and there.
Wayne’s hands, calloused even at this age from his work at the homestead, clutched onto Matt’s desk and tossed it aside into the banister on the side of the room. Matt’s bulky arms reached out to grab Wayne’s collar, but Wayne smacked one of his arms away and latched onto a hunk of shirt right under Matt’s collarbone. With his left arm holding the chunky bully at the perfect distance, his right arm cocked back like a mechanical piston. His fist was tightly wound and looked larger and heavier than usual. Just as Wayne was about to unleash his fury in a pugilistic outburst, Mr. Richardson returned from the hallway intervening at the last moment. He forced himself between the two boys and Wayne released his grip on Matt.
“Alright! That’s enough! Wayne, take yourself down to the principal’s office! You’ll be done there soon enough too Matthew!” The class was silent and probably disappointed that they missed out what would have been a real slobberknocker (pun intended). Moments later, both of them were seated outside of the principal’s office. Wayne stared straight ahead, his fury simmering under his stoic. Matt seemed almost amused by it.
“Man you got lucky Wayne. I was about to knock the stuffing out of you.” He whispered towards Wayne, goading him. “They would’ve had to call an ambulance I bet.” The fat bully snickered to himself, watching as Wayne sat motionless. Apparently what he had said wasn’t enough to send him over the edge, but Matt knew what would. He leaned in a little closer before delivering what would be his coup de grace.
“Once I got done with you, I figured I’d give your sister a ring. Heard she was looking for a new boyfriend anyways. You know-…” Before he could finish his sentence, Wayne had jumped out of his chair ready to crack him across the face. No one got to talk ill of his family, especially his sister. Ironically, Wayne’s assault was cut short as the principal opened his door. He was a tall, burly man, with a thick beard and bald head. He peered at the boys with tiny bespectacled eyes.
“I was contemplating on which one of you I was going to call in first, but I can now see obviously who the aggressor is here. Wayne, step into my office young man.”
Wayne visibly shook with anger and complied. This wasn’t over by a long shot. It was just getting started.
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Wayne Keeso
Middle Class Poster
Turtle School Initiate
Posts: 63
Race: Human
Dice: 2d47
EXP: 2,750
Zeni: 575
HP: 56
SP: 5,318
Transformations: Power UP!!
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Post by Wayne Keeso on Feb 10, 2017 13:41:43 GMT -5
Zero tolerance policy. Fighting is barbaric. Think of the safety of your classmates. We are a civilized people. You should spend less time watching martial arts tournaments. Yadda, yadda, yadda.
All of these topics were discussed at great length to Wayne by the principal. He couldn’t quite remember the specific details since he spent some much time zoning in and out. Every so often the principal would slam his hand on his desk to jolt Wayne back into the conversation. He’d go about locking eyes with the principal as the man’s lengthy and fiery rhetoric about the pitfalls of fighting would increase in volume. This went on for almost forty-five minutes. In reality the only thing Wayne was thinking about was Kinney, and how he was probably sitting out in the lobby with a stupid grin on his face. He’d hardly get interrogated and lectured the way he was. This discussion with the principal only increased his disdain for the bully.
The principal must have finally started to get winded and dismissed with Wayne with his punishment. In school suspension, lunch detention, after school detention. It didn’t mean anything to Wayne. He’d be subjected to worse at home. His chores would triple until his father decided his debt to society was paid. So be it. He passed Kinney in the lobby before he turned into the hallway. He did have that stupid grin on his face. He wouldn’t be wearing it for much longer if Wayne had his way.
For the rest of the day, Wayne spent it preoccupied with how he could possibly get back at Kinney. He couldn’t do it at school, he’d just get into even more trouble. Wayne wasn’t much for formulating plans. He’d rather just go knock the boy straight out, but now he was forced to use his head a little bit. Classes passed the rest of the day without incident. He did manage to come up with one idea though.
The bell signaled the end of school and students hurried to their lockers and awaiting buses. Wayne moved methodically. Kinney came walking out of the opposite hallway. There was some tension in the air and other students took notice. Many thought the two would square off here in the main lobby, but they passed each other without much fanfare. They locked eyes, and Wayne stepped through the double door and out to his bus. Kinney lived in town, practically the opposite direction from Wayne’s far-flung home. There wouldn’t be a scrap here.
With all the students seated, the bus engine roared to life and it pulled out from the school. It would drive into to town, towards the highway juncture that would take it out to the homesteads where Wayne and many other students were from. Just as the bus was about to make that turn out of town and alarm screeched in the bus. Someone had opened the emergency exit in the rear. By the time the bus driver looked up, the door was hanging open and whoever had opened the door was either sitting down or done the improbable and leaped out the back. The bus driver slammed on the breaks, bringing the bus to a halt. Unbuckling himself and jogging to the rear of the bus he couldn’t see anyone from the rear exit. Asking the other students seemed fruitless. Had someone just opened it as a prank?
Wayne breathed heavy and he pressed his back up against the dumpster only a few yards from the bus. He was sure the driver didn’t see him leap out of the back. Had he ridden his bus back home, the only thing that would happen was his swift punishment by his father with nothing done to Kinney who had so rudely besmirched him and his family’s honor. He’d most likely get punished two to three times more doing this, but at least he sleep easy knowing that Kinney too, had been punished for his actions.
The bus idled for two minutes before the driver finally slammed the exit door shut. The yellow vehicle pulled away and got onto the highway junction. Seeing that it had left, Wayne emerged from his hiding spot and jogged into town. He remembered hearing vaguely that Kinney liked to go to the local arcade after school to hang out. It would be the first place he would check.
It only took a few minutes for Wayne to navigate his way to the arcade. It was named Small Change and was located two streets off of main on the corner. It was a local hangout spot for kids who lived in town and didn’t have to spend an excess amount of their free time working on a family farm. The double doors were propped open although it was still very dark inside. Not only did this arcade not get very much natural light, Wayne wagered that most of the people inside did not either.
He took a deep breath and clenched his right hand into a fist. If Kinney was inside, his plan was to go in swinging and get his shots in before someone could stop him. Heck, if Mr. Richardson hadn’t stopped him he wouldn’t have had to make the great escape from his bus to do this. A fight at school would’ve netted him one day of out of school suspension which just meant a full day’s work on the farm. There are worse things that could happen to someone. Shaking those thoughts from his head, he stepped into the arcade.
A wave of smells hit his nostrils. Sweat was the only smell he could easily discern. It was lock being in a locker room of broken dreams. Shaking his head and refocusing he continued farther in. Several kids, both younger and older, were lined up at various different machines. This place was quite the throwback to a bygone era. Wayne looked rather odd, as he slowly moved down the lines of machines checking each face lit only by the glow of the screens from each machine. Suddenly someone cried out.
“TILT?! NO WAY!” He recognized the voice and moved towards the sound. There were lines of pinball machines along the back wall. A large figure stood in front of one, hands in the air just before slamming them onto the top of the machine. It was Kinney. It was also clear that he had just lost as his tantrum was about to escalate.
“Kinney!” It was all Wayne said. He spoke the boy’s name with authority and he watched as the chunky brute froze. Wayne’s fists were already tightened, anticipating the scrap that was to come. Kinney slowly turned around, peering into the darkness. “That you Wayne? Thought it smelled funny in here.” The bully still had jokes, perhaps it was his defense mechanism.
“Enough beakin’.” Wayne advanced towards his foe, fists raised.
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Wayne Keeso
Middle Class Poster
Turtle School Initiate
Posts: 63
Race: Human
Dice: 2d47
EXP: 2,750
Zeni: 575
HP: 56
SP: 5,318
Transformations: Power UP!!
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Post by Wayne Keeso on Feb 13, 2017 13:58:10 GMT -5
He advanced, fists raised and just before he reached his foe one of Kinney’s greasy sidekicks latched onto his right arm, trying to restrain him. Wayne grunted and pulled back to the left before firing his left fist across the kid’s face. Wayne could’ve sworn he could feel the acne burst onto his fist as he the blow connected. The smaller kid crumpled up against a pinball machine but he had provided just enough time for Kinney to escape. The hefty bully had clambered out of the back door and Wayne watched as he slipped out the back. Kinney’s other sidekicks looked away and seemed rather uninterested in dealing with Wayne, seeing how quickly he had dispatched their friend.
With nothing more than a snort, Wayne jogged out of the same door into the arcade’s back alley. Kinney might have had a bit of a head start on him but Wayne was in far better shape. Just as the portly boy rounded the alley’s corner back onto main street, his hand ripped a pair of garbage cans over. The spilled contents wouldn’t provide much of a deterrence for Wayne, but Kinney was desperate. The farm boy easily cleared the pile of junk and sharply rounded the corner. Kinney only had about half of a block lead on him and Wayne could make that up before he crossed the intersection.
The pedestrian light turned to a solid orange hand, indicating that no one should cross. Kinney, sweat pouring from his brow, looked over his shoulder to see Wayne only a few feet behind him. The bully was breathing heavy and sprung onto the crosswalk just as cars started to whiz by. One vehicle slammed on its break to avoid hitting him and slammed into the light post. The steel structure tumbled towards Wayne who narrowly avoiding it by pressing up against the wall of the brick building on the corner. This simple beating was getting very complicated.
Kinney had crossed the street much to the chagrin of taxpayers in Stows. He was heading in the direction of the city park. Wayne, not wanting to explain to authorities about the car crash, leapt into the intersection. He cleared the car, Dukes of Hazard style, before breaking into a full sprint after the bully. Kinney has just scaled the chain link fence that secured the park. It wasn’t a very graceful as the portly fellow tumbled on his rear on the other side. He hacked loudly before rising up to his feet and ambling into the middle of the park. His stamina seemed pretty much kaput.
Wayne leaped into the chain link fence after him, clutching onto the interlocking rings about half way up. In one smooth motion, he reached up and swung his lower body over the top of the fence. He released his grip and landed on his feet right where Kinney had. Even the Russian judges would’ve gave the maneuver at least a nine. Turning, his eyes scanned the area. Kinney must’ve been hiding, because he couldn’t see the boy anywhere.
Wayne jogged towards the center of the park. There was a public restroom building, a playground, basically your run of the mill city park buildings. Thick brush lined the walkway to the bathroom. Wayne bet any money that it was there that Kinney retreated. His pace slackened as he began to step gingerly up the lane. Even Kinney’s plump figure could be well hidden in this area.
A branch snapped. It was terribly loud considering the park was mostly deserted. Wayne spun around, expecting to see Kinney. Instead, a rabbit harmlessly hopped by. When he turned back around, Kinney was waiting. He held clutched in his hand a large branch from one of the trees in the park. It had the same thickness as a baseball bat. Wayne attempted to sidestep out of the way, but the large branch crashed down onto his shoulder. There was sickening crunch and pain seared all the way down his left arm. The strike was powerful enough for Wayne to sink to one knee as his right hand clutched his left shoulder.
“You’re a damn coward Kinney.” Wayne managed to eke the words out between clenched teeth. His left arm was starting to go numb. The blow had probably pinched a nerve. The bully chuckled at Wayne, you could tell he was savoring this moment. “I told you I’d whip you Wayne. Too bad nobody’s around to see it though.” Kinney raised the branch high above his head, ready to deliver the final blow. Hubris didn’t look good on him. Wayne leapt forward, putting his good shoulder into Kinney’s midsection. He sunk into like he jumped onto a water mattress. Kinney grunted as all the wind was forcefully expelled from his lungs. He dropped the massive branch and the pair tumbled to the ground.
Even with his left arm numb, Wayne still had a sizeable physical advantage. Wayne was on top of him, and laid his numb arm across Kinney’s face. When the boy tried to knock it away, he fired a right hand directly into his nose. Kinney squealed with pain. He probably had never been hit before like that. A trickle of blood began to pour from both nostrils. One, two, three more blows landed before Wayne stopped. He was breathing heavy, and Kinney had curled up into a ball as much as he could. Wayne swore he could hear him whimpering.
“Don’t change anything Wayne, you’re still just hick trash.” The last gasp of a desperate foe. The words didn’t sting Wayne at all. He was fine with who he was and where he came from. Wayne stood up, took a big gulp of air through his nostrils and spit to his side. He reared back his left leg and fired a boot right into Kinney’s gut. The boy recoiled from the blow and gasped for air. Wayne said nothing, he merely walked away from Kinney back out the path towards the roadway. He had felt like he had recovered the honor of his family’s name.
Then the police showed up.
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Wayne Keeso
Middle Class Poster
Turtle School Initiate
Posts: 63
Race: Human
Dice: 2d47
EXP: 2,750
Zeni: 575
HP: 56
SP: 5,318
Transformations: Power UP!!
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Post by Wayne Keeso on Feb 14, 2017 10:00:56 GMT -5
Sirens blazed as two police cars rumbled into the city park on the tiny stretch of roadway that ran the length of it. They were heading right in Wayne’s direction. With his fight over, Wayne suddenly remembered that there had been some collateral damage during the chase from the arcade to the park. I mean, how many fights between teenagers end up with crashed cars and public property damaged? Not wanting to find out if they were looking for him (they probably were) he cut across the park, away from the main road and into the thick vegetation that lined the far side of the park. He’d wait for the police to zip by. They obviously didn’t spot Kinney laying in a pile either, good for him, the bum probably would’ve ratted him out.
The initial danger behind, Wayne now had the arduous task of figuring out just how exactly he was planning on getting home. His house was at least fifteen miles away. He was too young drive and definitely didn’t have enough money for a cab. Could he steal a bike? Not likely. Wayne felt as if he had violated enough rules today. His parents would know by now that he hadn’t come home on the bus. They’d give him some time to get home before informing the authorities. He was going to be in deep shit either way. He pushed that thought from his mind as he tried to think of alternatives.
An idea popped into his head. He rose up from the brush, peering from his protective hideaway. Making sure there were no observers either by car or foot, he emerged from his hiding spot and began a steady jog into town. The sun was still shining brightly. He estimated that the entire chase and fight took close to ninety minutes. That would make almost five o’clock. Rush hour in some places, but in Stows it just meant one thing. Many farmers would be over at the seed warehouse in town near the train tracks.
Traffic thinned out as he made as his way toward the rail depot. He only saw a few trucks and some of the larger eighteen wheelers hauling goods from the depot itself. He was gambling that one of his nearby neighbors would be here. Specifically, Wayne was looking for a Daniel. Daniel was his closest neighbor and a few years older than his father. If he could spot that cruddy blue truck and find a way sneak into the bed of it, he’d be golden.
There many faces milling about the outside of the depot that he faintly recognized. All of those men knew his father and in some capacity would recognize Wayne. “I guess it won’t be as easy as walking up to the truck and hopping in the back.” He spoke as he sighted Daniel’s old pickup parked in the lot beside the depot. Would he have to create a distraction? It’s not like he was carrying firecrackers or a flare in his pocket. The group of old farmers continued to mill about in the front. They were chewing tobacco and generally bullshitting. You put an old group of men together and this was typically what would happen.
Stealth would be his only real option. He walked away from the depot, almost a half block away. There weren’t too many things he could use for cover. This plan was going to shit fast. Daniel’s truck was parked in the open. He considered just biting the bullet and asking the man for a ride back home. I could say I missed the bus…but then why wouldn’t I have just called from the school. The ideas a teenager had were rarely good ones. Luck, however, was on his side. Exactly at 5:15 a loud whistle sounded, and the train from out west began its approach to the depot. The older men all turned, putting their backs to Wayne’s face to watch the iron horse chug on in. Seizing his opportunity, Wayne broke into a sprint towards Daniel’s pickup.
RUN. FASTER. His mind screamed at his legs. Just as the whistle from the train blasted a second time, Wayne had crossed the small side street next to the depot. Only a few more yards were left! The third and final whistle sounded, the group of older men waved as the train pulled in and began to turn back to their original positions. Just as the first man turned, Wayne dove into the bed of Daniel’s truck, pressing his back flat against metallic bed. There were several bags of feed and a few sacks of barely in the bed with him. He frantically rearranged them to cover his body while trying his best to stay out of the vision of the group of men standing on the porch of the depot about twenty yards away.
Some of the bags were quite heavy and he tried his best to make sure he wasn’t crushing himself. That’d be great, show up at Daniel’s dead from smothering myself. What an obituary that would be. Finally feeling secure enough, he would just have to wait. And wait he did. Almost an hour passed until the group of older men dispersed and Daniel walked over to his truck. He didn’t bother to really investigate the bed of his truck, having loaded it earlier. The weak rumble of the truck’s engine sounded wonderful to Wayne. He’d finally be on his way.
The drive lasted almost forty minutes. Daniel drove like an old woman. Wanye had to pee the entire time. It was an experience he’d recount to his dying day as miserable. Having a forty pound bag of feed slowly depress your bladder when it’s full was sometime he wouldn’t wish on anyone, save maybe Kinney. The truck finally made the turn onto Daniel’s paved driveway and came to a stop a few moments later. Daniel exit the truck and Wayne couldn’t hear his footsteps. Was he about to unload his truck? What would he say to Daniel? Sorry sir, got stuck in here earlier and was waiting for you to get these off of me. Instead the old man sighed heavily, “I’ll have the hands unload this tomorrow. I’m beat.” He continued muttering to himself and Wayne heard him walk off.
He laid still for several minutes afterwards just to be safe. The sun was starting to set and he desperately wanted to be home before supper and nightfall. It was one thing to show up home late and miss his chores. It was entirely another thing to come home at night like a common street tough. Grunting softly, he moved the bags off of his concealed body and slipped out of the bed of the truck. He had maybe a mile or so jog to his parent’s property and he took at once.
Breathing heavily, he finally arrived at home. The closer he got to the Keeso Home, the slower he moved, almost to the point of creeping up the stairs to the large wooden porch. He could smell cooked meat through the open windows. His stomach knotted and grumbled tightly. All of the events today had really worked up an appetite. He thought to peak in the window first, almost as if he didn’t live here. He took a step forward, gently wrapping his hand around the brass knob of the front door. It swung open just as he was about to open it. There stood his father, still in his farm clothes.
“Better get some dinner into ya son. I’ll have it out of ya tomorrow morning. School called a couple hours ago. You’ll have to explain your absence from the bus to me and ya mother.” His father beckoned him to come inside, his massive worn hand motioning for him to enter. At least he would get a decent dinner, right?
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Post by Retasu on Feb 15, 2017 22:33:57 GMT -5
+4,993 SP
New Total: 4,993 SP
Adding now.
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