THE RITUAL ~ Chapter 5

Welcome to Chapter 5!

Got here without reading what led up to this point? Use the landing page here to navigate to where you left off.

What happened last:

Odd Gareth Malbourne and mysterious senior swimmer John have entered the picture. And the kids all got ready for whatever they would be doing tonight…the night of the big high school dance.

But something strange still quietly simmers, just under the surface…

Chapter 5: June 30th: Night
Part One

WHONK!

The traffic signal had changed to green and the car in front of Scott sat still. He honked again and the driver woke up and started to move. The evening air had begun to cool and Scott enjoyed the breeze blowing through his hair as his father’s Mustang picked up speed under his command. He didn’t have to be at A.J’s for another fifteen minutes, but he felt like cruising around with the top down.

This was one of those moments. He was old enough to drive, old enough to go out on a date with his girl, yet young enough to enjoy having his whole life ahead of him. Some guys didn’t have access to a car. Some guys didn’t have a girl. But Scott had both and life was good. The sunset stretched out before him all pretty in pink and purple.

***

A.J. sat before the mirror, perusing the foreign objects on the vanity table. She never wore make-up; the vanity usually served as a writing desk, a sewing table or an ironing board. But all utensils related to those common jobs had been swept aside for the recently purchased mascara applicator, eyeliner pencil, and lip gloss. A.J. had no experience with the supposed accoutrements of femininity. She had read about them, trying to care in earlier days. Manicures were the only beauty treatment she had embraced, due mostly to the hangnails she previously had always managed to bite until they hurt. Wasting money on products to make you look like something you’re not just seemed silly.

Now, she perused the items she had purchased and wondered if she was falling victim to socialization or if she simply wanted tonight to be special. Unable to decide, she singled out the mascara, staring at it as if it were radioactive. She thought for a moment about calling Luanne Spencer. Luanne worked at Pops and always wore a ton of makeup. But then, staying true to her nature, A.J. decided to face this battle on her own.

She turned to glance at the clock on the bedside table. Scott would arrive in fifteen minutes. She had procrastinated long enough. The hour was at hand.

“All right,” A.J. told herself. “It’s now or never.”

She reached forward and picked up the mascara.

***

Somewhere else, another hand picked up a long, sharp knife.

***

“Denise,” Michael sang in his best annoying, cloying whine. “Make popcorn.” Denise gave him a look: Over my dead body.

“Please,” Michael added with all the charm a five-year-old can muster, raising his eyebrows, widening his eyes to sad puppy mode, and pouting out his tiny lower lip.

Denise just looked at him thinking of all the reasons not to fulfill the kid’s wish: he hadn’t finished his dinner; it was too close to his bedtime; it was bad for his teeth; and Big Sis just didn’t feel like it. But then she thought: What the hell?

“Okay,” she said.

Michael jumped up, shouting. “Yippeeee!”

Denise stood up and sauntered toward the kitchen with Michael bouncing right behind. She smiled at the strange, sudden apathetic mood she was in.

Must be a full moon, she thought.

***

His parents were on vacation. Alone in the house, Alex fed Jynx the family cat and started cleaning his own meager dinner dishes. He thought about the swimmer in the locker room. John. He thought about how aroused he’d become; like he did with Scott when they used to have jack-off contests in the clubhouse what seemed like a lifetime ago. He thought about how, while Scott was looking at the girlie magazines, Alex would be stealing glances at Scott. Back then he didn’t know why. He didn’t have the knowledge or the experience to know what it meant. He didn’t have the vocabulary to express it—even in his own mind. It had been a mystery. But an exciting one. One he longed to unravel.

And now it seemed to be unraveling, all right. A few years had passed, Scott came to court A.J., and Alex came to learn a few words. Ugly words: words used with such distaste even he was afraid to utter them. But those words didn’t really describe him. He was just like everybody else in every other way. He didn’t want to hurt anybody. He just wanted to be loved. He just was attracted to guys instead of girls.

And he was afraid. Afraid to see other people view him with the same, disgusted eyes they got when they used one of those words. That’s why he ran from gym class. That’s why he was progressively removing himself from the world. That’s why he wished the new boy was like him. So, they could run away.

He wanted desperately to run away.

***

“God, I’m horny!”

Robert and Randy were walking down Oakhurst Road on their way to the dance. Single guys and girls always went in groups of two or more, hoping they’d leave a little less single.

Robert continued his thought: “I sure hope there’s a good supply of easy women at this thing”.

“Yeah,” Randy said in his usually droll manner.

“I haven’t slammed a girl for nearly a week.”

“Yeah.”

“I think I’m gonna go for the new head cheerleader tonight.”

“Yeah.”

Robert stopped in his tracks. Randy did, too.

“What?” Randy asked. Robert was looking at him with an odd expression on his face.

“How come you just let me talk this kind of shit? You never call me on anything. You really think I’m that much of an asshole?”

Randy was surprised by Robert’s questions. He thought about it for a second.

“No, man. I don’t think you’re an asshole. You just talk shit like every other guy. No one wants to admit they’re still a virgin. So, we talk shit. Doesn’t do any harm.”

Robert was stunned. Part of him was pissed the guy presumed to know so much. Part of him was amazed the guy was so perceptive. When the hell did Randy get to be smart? Or maybe he always was and nobody had noticed. Whatever the case, Robert saw his tagalong friend in a slightly new light. And he liked him all the more.

“Come on,” Robert said, getting a smile. “Let’s get to the dance.”

***

Gareth Malbourne was gone—lost in the depths of another state of mind: a place where the base, dark nature looming within roamed free, unleashed. Its time had come again. Gareth was no longer in control of his own mind.

***

A.J. stood in the doorway feeling a little awkward. Scott, totally unprepared for the cliché Cinderella transformation, was speechless.

“Is something wrong?” A.J. asked.

Scott snapped out of it. “No,” he said, quickly. “You…uh…you look great!”

A.J. breathed a sigh of relief and her smile returned. “So do you,” she reciprocated.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

Scott blushed. He had thought he was good-looking enough—or so he had told himself in the mirror, earlier. But to hear A.J. confirm it was a whole different matter.

“Thanks, he managed. The two of them stood there, realizing for the first time they truly were on the brink of adulthood. It was a little scary.

“Well,” Scott finally said. “Let’s go.”

“Okay,” A.J. said. She shut the door behind her and turned to see Scott holding out his arm. He hoped it wasn’t too corny. A.J. looked at him, knowing full well neither one of them gave much credit to old sexist customs.

“Just in case you fall off the porch steps,” Scott joked.

A.J. got a wry smile and took his arm. “In these heels, anything is possible.”

***

Mrs. Curson sat, brain fermenting in alcoholic haze. The liquor had been untouched since her husband died. But recently, with her world crashing in on her, she broke into it with a vengeance. She hated her life. Her husband had left her a battle she finally saw she would never be equipped to win. She just wanted to sleep. She thought if she got drunk, she would sleep. And it had worked for a while.

But not tonight. Tonight, she was agitated. Tonight, she realized she was not only unloved and hated her life, but she was fast on her way to becoming an addict if she kept it up.

Then an idea occurred to her.

***

A dark figure opened a door and stepped into the night.

To be continued…