The Untimely Corruption of Edgar

The Untimely Corruption of Edgar

It was a snowy September day on Prairie Avenue. The Chicago city lights shone onto the darkling glistening street and icy snow clung to windows and cars and anything else it could manage. This didn’t stop most people from their normal daily routines, just as it didn’t stop Edgar Raul. He’d just gotten back from school and was plopped on his bed, reading intently.

This particular gem was from his father’s study. It was full of business related advice and financial information, none of which appealed very much to Edgar. Edgar sighed and turned the page, willing the information to be absorbed. He knew he wouldn’t remember any of these facts or figures tomorrow when his father quizzed him. Still, Edgar tried. He re-read and made notes, even. 3 pages of notes later, Edgar tossed the book aside.

He flipped on the television to see footage from a Queen concert that had been held in Chicago. Edgar had wanted desperately to go because he secretly loved Queen and their music, but his parents disapproved of most music of his generation. He was only allowed to listen to Classical music, or Rod Stewart, whom both his mother and father greatly approved.

Edgar decided watching Queen wasn’t a good idea because it made him angry that he wasn’t able to go. Anger was not a healthy emotion, his father had told him. It clouds judgment and leads to unwise decisions. Edgar also knew this was true from personal experience.

Relishing the feel of thick carpet between his toes, Edgar hopped off his bed and scurried into the kitchen. At lease he was allowed to choose what he ate. He chose simple Melba toast with tuna and hummus. It was quite delicious, unlike many of the fancy dishes served at dinner in the Raul house.

Edgar heard a car pulling into the driveway and quickly scampered onto the porch to greet his mother or father. Unfortunately, it was neither. He scolded himself when he realized both his mother and father were upstairs in their room. Edgar watched as two figures came out of the car; one middle aged man and a harsh looking teen close to his own age. The teen flicked a cigarette butt onto their driveway and glanced at her watch.

Edgar hurried back inside before he could be seen. He wasn’t supposed to be the one greeting his parent’s company, so he rushed upstairs and informed them of the arrival. His father hurriedly dressed and his mother looked embarrassed, but Edgar paid them no mind. He was in no state for company; he hadn’t even put on fresh clothes.

After Edgar had dressed he was called down to dinner. They strangers—guests—were already seated and had posh handkerchiefs tied round their necks and placed in their laps. The blonde teen, Alice, she was called—looked bored. She rearranged the food on her plate and piled it into neat piles, and Edgar couldn’t help but notice they were grouped with other foods of similar color or texture.

Edgar didn’t say much throughout the rest of dinner because the subjects the adults were discussing didn’t particularly interest him. Everyone had finished eating and bottles of wine had replaced the food.

“Mother, may I excuse myself? I’ve got to—“Edgar spoke but was interrupted.

“Dear, would you mind terribly giving lovely Alice here a tour of the house?” his mother said sweetly, looking at Alice. She flinched as if in pain.

“Yeah, Edgar, that’d be loads of fun,” she spoke. Her voice was husky as if been screaming too loud for too long. Edgar agreed and gave the best tour he could.

He spoke of the famous people who had lived here before, and of the expensive antiques and rare vases from obscure nations. Edgar had been taught to imply that their things were pricey, but never to reveal the price. Alice could not have looked any less interested if she tried, and in fact Edgar had to tug her along by her sleeve throughout the tour.

She pulled out a lighter and made to light a cigarette. Edgar’s eyes widened in horror and he made a clumsy grab for it. His hand bumped her hand and she dropped it.

“Are you insane? You can’t smoke in here,” Edgar said, utterly astonished by her stupidity.

“Oh come on! What, are you worried about your parents? Can’t we just go to your room and I can smoke in there?” she asked.

“No way, I don’t want my room smelling like that,” he said, wrinkling his nose in disgust at her cigarette.

“Lighten up, Eddy,” Alice said, grabbing him by the sleeve and tugging him towards the staircase.

“Your room’s up there, right? I heard you come down,” she said.

“Why do you act like you do? Doesn’t your mother make you learn manners?” Edgar asked Alice while they prodded up the staircase to his room.

“That, Eddy, is none of your business. But I’ll tell you anyway. My mom died a long time ago,” Alice said.

“That’s…that’s terrible! I’m so sorry,” Edgar said, eyes widening in surprise and sympathy. “H-how did it happen?” he asked her.

“Let’s not go into that, okay?” she said, dropping her eyes.

Alice plopped rudely onto Edgar’s bed, quickly stretching her limbs out, taking up the whole bed. Edgar sat gingerly on the edge of his computer chair.

Edgar eyed Alice’s cigarette with dislike.

“So, Eddy, do you go to school or what? You look like the homeschooled type to me. Or at least a very fancy private school, like me,” she said, gazing through clouds of toxic nicotine gas, not as much as blinking or coughing. Edgar waved it away frantically, turning his face away as to not inhale the vile smoke.

“Yes, I do go to school –ever heard of Annunciata School? It’s over on Crickquet Avenue,” Edgar said. Alice’s mouth dropped and she gaped at him stupidly.

“You’ve got to be kidding me. Annunciata? It sounds like something out of Harry Potter,” Alice huffed at him, kicking her shoes off onto the other side of his room.

“I don’t see the comparison. Hogwarts is the name of the school in Harry Potter, and that doesn’t sound a thing like Annunciata,” Edgar said. His fingers dug into his wrist in a way similar to when he was waiting impatiently for someone to finish in his debate meetings.

“Pipe down, Ed. I wasn’t talking about the school…I meant it sounds like a spell or something,” she mumbled. She turned slightly pink.

“I don’t think I like you very much. Are you leaving soon?” Edgar asked. Alice chuckled.

“I don’t really know how long he’ll keep us here. Maybe he’s trying to get us to hit it off or something,” Alice said, winking at him. “He doesn’t like my boyfriend very much.”

Edgar raised his eyebrow.

“Oh? How unfortunate,” he said. Alice had taken to investigating the contents of his night stand now, and Edgar’s eyes widened when she laid her hand on his Queen album.

“Excuse me, would you please stop going through my things? That is a violation of my private—“but Alice interrupted him,

“Eddy, I have the perfect idea,” She looked at him in awe, and grudging respect, “And I’m sorry for violating your privates.”

“My name—“he snatched the CD away from her, “Is Edgar. And I would appreciate it if you would keep your hands off my personal property.”

“I’m going to a Queen concert tonight. I have two tickets, and my dad thinks I’m going to the opera,” Alice said.

“So?” Edgar asked, cautiously expressionless but the wheels turning in his head.

“Come with me. It’ll be excellent. I was going to bring a sort of friend, but she backed out last miniute,” Alice said.

A knock at the door and the deep voice of Alice’s father silenced the two of them. Alice gave him one long, final look before hopping off the bed and answering the door.

“Daddy, Edgar has decided he’d like to go to the opera with me. Is that all right?” Alice asked sweetly, making her eyes wide and innocent like. Edgar had seen this look many times at school when the more charming students attempted to get out of trouble or sweeten up the teachers.

“Of course, darling. Actually, to be honest I was hoping you two would hit off—he’s a charming young man, isn’t he? Much more so than that –that Dale you’re always hanging on,” he said this all very quickly, glancing at Edgar as if inviting him into the conversation, but not slowing down enough for him to speak for himself.

“I’ll pick you up at eight,” Alice said, winking before she left the room with her father.

Edgar watched the car leave the driveway, wondering what he’d gotten himself into.

~
Eight o’clock rolled around and Edgar was dressed in elegant slacks and a sateen trimmed blazer with a white shirt underneath. When Edgar heard the honking (how rude!) he grabbed his trench coat and donned it, wrapping in tightly around himself in preparation for the cold. The air outside was startlingly cold and his lungs ached as he breathed in deeply the scent of watered down asphalt mingled with rich pine. Alice was waving at him from inside a slick little Audi—stylish silver with some custom black and red detailing on the side. Edgar had to admit he found it strangely appealing.

He clambered into the passenger’s seat.

“Nice car,” he grinned, “Queen concert, here we come!” Alice smiled beside him and popped in a CD—not Queen.

“Whossat?” Edgar ask, removing a parcel from his package—peppermint gum.

“You kidding? Bob Marley, you dork,” she said, sniffing the air lightly, “Is that mint gum?”

Edgar handed her a piece and pressed his face into the window, something his mother and father never allowed. He found it oddly comforting. They rode in relative silence most of the way, until Alice pulled over in an unlikely place. The parking lot of a shut down store was abandoned—not car nor person in sight, except the two of them.

Alice reached over Edgar’s lap to the glove compartment and withdrew a shiny tin container, no bigger than the palm of her hand. She plucked something out of it, something that looked like a cigarette but most definitely wasn’t. Edgar gasped in realization.

“Is that…is that marijuana?” he asked, eyes wide and back uncharacteristically tense. Alice laughed.

“Yeah, Ed, it is,” she said simply, lighting up the dire thing and taking a long, slow hit. “Here,” she passed it to him. Edgar knew it was wrong, illegal, and probably entirely pointless—but he was going to a Queen concert, damn it! Edgar took it and mimicked her actions, but found he couldn’t hold the smoke and coughed it up instead, and few minutes later the two of them were laughing and giggling and the car was full of smoke. Edgar’s head felt strangely light, and he felt somehow more alive than usual.

Still, it made him on edge—he, Edgar Raul, was high on illegal drugs—what would his parents say? His grandparents? His friends at school? What would happen if the police suddenly pulled them over and they were both arrested before he could even mention his father?

“Alice, put it away! What if we get caught?” Edgar said worriedly, glimpsing the road to see it just the same as before—dark and wet and somehow it drew him in, made him want to travel upon it.

“I guess you’re right. We should be going,” Alice formed her words slowly, with careful pronunciation but still concise, as if she were giving a carefully crafted speech.

Alice and Edgar finally arrived at their destination, the Auditorium Theatre on Palifax Avenue, an unbearably traffic-strew street and they had to pay considerably for parking, although money wasn’t on either of their minds. Edgar’s mind boggled when he took in the sights, the grand theatre and the strange people. So brave they were to dress so flamboyantly, with so much color and bravado. Edgar was almost embarrassed to be amongst them.

The inside of the coliseum was massive and grand, but not as grand as some of the place Edgar had seen. The crowd moved, one entity, and swayed together in anticipation of the music. Alice disappeared from his shoulder and he felt his anxiety rise, for he was alone with the strangest sort of folk. A boy, no older than 15 (how had he been allowed in) was dressed radically in half-clipped clothing and metal bits hanging off of him with drastic hair that defied both logic, good fashion sense, and gravity all in one fell swoop. The boy winked at him and ushered towards him.

“Like what you see, Armani?” the boy laughed and clapped him on the shoulder. Edgar stared in confusion, and stuttered, embarrassed to be addressed so informally by such an oddity as this boy.

Luckily Alice appeared beside him with the drinks and saved him from further forced conversation. She laughed and joked with the boy as if it were completely natural, and soon Edgar found himself the unwilling companion of the two of them.

When Freddie Mercury leaped onto the stage, suddenly the other people didn’t matter and it didn’t matter what his parents would think. He screamed shrill in delight and elbowed Alice enthusiastically and she was already grinning at him. Edgar downed the rest the drink Alice had brought him in mere seconds, and Alice did the same with hers.

“Cheers, Eddy!”

“Cheers, Road Wolf (as the boy had insisted to be called)!”

“Cheers, my dears!” Edgar laughed.

Screams of delight sounded from all around him when they began to play, but quieted down as everyone was transfixed by the starting chords of Bohemian Rhapsody. Mercury hailed the crowd and they sang merrily, if not drunkenly

I’m just a poor boy and

Nobody loves me

He’s just a poor boy from a poor family!

Spare him his life from this monstrosity

Edgar found himself unable to describe the concert at a later date, and when asked about responded with a simple whoop, at which Alice would smile mysteriously. The seed of corruption had been planted in Edgar, and from that night it grew and grew until he was fooling his parents and slipping out in the dead of night every other day, Alice-the-faithful by his side and even Wolf-boy close behind.