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Rated: 13+ · Fiction · Thriller/Suspense · #2312835
This is the prologue to Invisible Threads, the first book in The Anomaly series.

"An invisible red thread connects those who are destined to meet, regardless of time, place, or circumstance. The thread may stretch or tangle but will never break."


-Chinese Proverb



PROLOGUE


Gary opened his hand. His mother had told him not to squeeze the soil and he had tried not to, but now he was holding a tight compacted ball of dirt. He held it out over the six-foot-deep hole and let it roll off his fingers. It fell and hit his father's coffin with a slight thunk, sticking in place.

His mother's fingernails dug into his other hand which she held. He ground his teeth to avoid wincing in front of the small family group gathered around the gravesite. Her pressure continued and he felt dampness and knew that her sharp nails had drawn blood. A glance to his left showed him the barely-controlled anger on her face. She would blame it on his inability to keep the soil loose, but he knew that it was just one of her angry days.

The service dragged on and couldn't take his attention from the pain in his hand. For a relatively small woman, his mother was strong. But the proceedings finally ended and the next ordeal began. They now had to go home and entertain his relatives.

Since he had his learner's permit, his mother made him drive and then continually yelled at him to go faster so they would get to the house before the guests and then yelled at him again when the speed she had urged on him frightened them both.

They turned onto a narrow and pot-holed residential street and then pulled into a short gravel driveway in front of a small single-story house that was set back about 30 feet from the street. It had aging white Masonite siding and green shutters. The lights from the car illuminated the peeling paint on the shutters and missing glazing around the windows.

"Run inside and make sure that everything is clean for the guests!" His mother's voice held manic urgency and he bolted from the car and ran into the house as she scurried behind. The house was a mess.

"Why didn't you clean this?!" She screamed at the back of his head as she literally shoved him through the door.

"I didn't think about it." Those were the first words he had said all day.

He turned to look back as her open-hand slap swung at his face catching him sharply across the left cheek.

"I can't tell you everything! You have to figure something out for yourself! Clean! Clean!"

He ran around the small living room, picking up items and throwing them down the stairs into the partially finished basement. His father had been about halfway done with the finishing of the downstairs room when he died.

A brand-new Mercedes Benz pulled up to the curb in front of the house and unloaded his aunt, his uncle, and his two cousins. The cousins were both slightly younger than Gary at 14 and 12 and were entitled and obnoxious. Although they lived only twenty miles north in Delaware County, he hadn't seen them in four years.

Four other cars pulled up and crowded the narrow street as the rest of his relatives got out and headed toward their door.

His mother stood erect. "If they want to judge me, then they can just damn well judge me. My husband just died, for God's sake."

She opened the door and received hugs as everyone entered. Gary tried to move into the background and become invisible. He knew the effort had failed when his aunt bee-lined for him, her eyes riveted on his left cheek which remained obviously red from his mother's slap.

Her voice reeked of false pity, "How are you, Gary?"

He didn't want to have this conversation. "I'm fine."

She reached up and laid her fingers against his cheek. They felt cool which meant his cheek was hot.

"You know that you can always come and stay with us for a while, maybe until you finish high school."

"WHAT THE FUCK DID YOU JUST SAY!" It was his mother's voice from across the room.

Gary's eyes flicked from his aunt's face over her shoulder to see his mother charging towards them. He wanted to back away but was already against the wall.

His aunt whirled to face her sister. "I offered to let Gary stay with us for a while until you have things... more under control."

"I have things under control just fine!"

His mother's voice was a terrifying whisper. Gary's father was the only one who had ever been able to control the rages and that was 50/50 at best. Gary would wake up one day and his mother would be loving and caring - although still intense. But the next day, she would be barely controlled fury, only to be followed by a day of sullen depression. He thought of them as angry days, happy days, and sad days.

His aunt was having none of it. "Look at his face!"

Gary tried to interject, "My face is fine." He hoped maybe his coming in on his mother's side would calm her.

She ignored him. "What happens in this house is none of your goddamn business!"

Her aunt's voice raised in return. "It is when it's child abuse."

Gary tried again, "I'm not being abused!"

This accusation annoyed him. He was 15 years old and taller than his mother. His father had managed to keep her from beating him most of the time before and now he was old enough to take care of himself.

His mother's whisper disappeared and the screaming returned, "GET OUT OF MY HOUSE! EVERYBODY! OUT OF MY HOUSE NOW!"

Gary watched as his mother pushed and shoved their relatives back out the front door and then slammed it shut with all of her strength. Her voice was now breathless as she leaned against the door.

"You should have cleaned the house."

And then she stormed out of the room and into her bedroom.

© Copyright 2024 Loyd Gardner (glide10001 at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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