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Rated: 18+ · Short Story · Young Adult · #1437621
The explanation about what happened.
****

It was an October morning. The leaves had just colored and the wind was getting an eerie chill to it. It was unsettling. Kenny, my mother and I were sitting in the kitchen, eating breakfast. No one was speaking and the shrill of the telephone ringing broke the silence. Mom handed me the phone after looking at the caller ID, and assumed it was for me. “Hello?” I answered, putting my fork down on my plate.

“This is Eric, right? It’s Charlie,” he said. Charlie was one of my good friends. He was constantly getting in trouble with kids at school he owed money with and always wanted me to pull him out of the hole he continuously fell into.

“Hold on,” I said, excusing myself from the table and upstairs to my room.
My mom doesn’t need to hear what I talk about. If she did, she’d freak out.

“I’m not doing this for you any fucking more, Chuck. Lay off the drugs and the kids won’t come after you,” I growled lowly as I shut my bedroom door.

“No. It’s not that, I swear. Actually. I lied. It’s someone else that needs help. One of my bro’s. You know Richard Evans?” he said, hastily.

“Damn it, Chuck! I don’t want to get involved in all this.”

“You didn’t answer my question.”

“No. I don’t know a Richard Evans,” I told him, annoyed.

“Well, he is some deep shit. Carl, you know that dude who hangs outside K-Mart who has ‘connections’ or some shit like that, gave Richard a credit card that was stolen from someone else and the police tracked him down for identity theft last night when he bought some CDs. But get this, Richie managed to get away from the cops and now he is on the run, hiding in some shantytown somewhere here in Tuckerson. We have to go get him, Eric.”

Was he insane?

“Are you high?” I asked, angrily.
He must’ve been because I don’t know why he is calling me about all this.

“No, man! I’m serious about this,” he yelled.

“You think I’m fucking superman or something? Do you know how crazy you sound right now? It’s not even noon yet and you call me up about something like that? That is deep shit that kid is in. Something we shouldn’t even get involved with. That’s way out of my limits to do something like that, Chuck. Find someone else,” I retorted.

“Wait, Eric. Please. Don’t just throw me over the edge like that. You’re all he’s got. If we help him, we can get Carl in trouble, since this is all his fault. Stupid bastard,” he said. I could feel the pain in his voice.

I contemplated. This was ridiculous.

“Fine,” I said, giving in, “but I’m bringing Kenny with me. He’s the one with the car and I’m not doing this fucking thing alone.”

“Oh, thank you man. Meet me some place. In front of that old gas station or something. In like, an hour,” he said quickly. The pain in his voice was gone and he sounded more relieved.

“Alright. You owe me, Chuck,” I told him and hung up.

I went downstairs and entered the kitchen to finish my omelet. Mom wasn’t there. Instead she was out in the garden. It was a good chance to explain what was going on to Kenny.

“We have to leave in an hour,” I told him.

“And go where?” he asked, puzzled.

I explained to him what happened.

“No. I’m not doing that, man. There is no fucking way. That’s involving the cops and shit. Do you know how much trouble we would be in if we were to get caught? Shit, man. Loads,” he whispered, shaking his head.

“I know, but we have to. I promised Charlie,” I said, as my mother came back in the house, taking her gardening gloves off.

“What was that call all about?” she asked, placing her gloves on the counter and joining us at the table once more.

“My friend was wanting to know if Kenny and I could hang out today,” I told her. I didn’t blink. If I blinked, she knew I was lying. It was my weakness.

“Oh,” she said finally. “Are you planning on staying the night at his house?”

“No. We’ll be home by six,” I said. It was the truth that time. I had no intentions to be gone that long.

Mom bought it. “Okay. When are you leaving? I can take you his house, if you’d like,” she offered.

“Is it okay if I drive to his house instead, Mom?” Kenny butted in.

“Why wouldn’t it be. It saves me gas,” she laughed. Good.
“Well, we have to leave in about an hour, so we should be getting ready,” I said.

Mom nodded her head. Thank god our mother trusts us. Though, I do feel bad when we go behind her back and do the worst possible thing two seventeen-year-olds could do: getting involved in the drug business. Our mother was too good for us. We didn’t deserve her.
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