“Aaiden…” Sarah paused, “Aaiden Trai Hendricks! Answer me!”
The quiet click of a bedroom door opening sounded from atop the stairs. A drowsy, sluggish expression caked Aaiden’s face. He stood now at the top of the staircase, gazing absently. Sarah sighed and put her hand to her forehead.
“We need to leave in ten minutes or you’ll miss your flight. Uncle Randy is waiting for you. You do know what day it is, don’t you?”
Aaiden’s thoughts swam through his head. It hit him like a ton of bricks. Today was the day; the day he was to fly out to Idaho to help his great Uncle Randy on his cattle ranch for the summer. The events of the previous night played over and over in his head. He quickly shoved it out of his head and nodded to his mother. “I’ll be down in a few,” he said glumly, walking back to his bedroom.
Owen, Aaiden’s twin brother sat glued to his laptop at the kitchen bar. Five year old Claire wiggled excitedly on the swivel bar stool, coloring in a My Little Pony coloring book. Chalk dust hovered over the counter top and little bits of broken chalk were scattered in every direction. Sarah Burgley walked into the kitchen, carrying a laundry basket full of neatly folded socks. She gasped at the site before her.
“Owen Lexx! You know Claire isn’t allowed to bring that chalk into the house. Get off that computer and clean this mess up. Claire, go put your chalk outside. You know better.”
“Just a minute, Mom, I’m almost to level 27.” Sarah closed the laptop lid shut, placing it on the kitchen table. “Now.” Owen groaned and helped Claire clean up the chalk.
Thump, thump, thump. A black suede suitcase bellowed down the stairs in a rolling heap.
“I’m ready Mom,” Aaiden announced.
“Good, go put your stuff in the car. I’ll be right there.” She quickly turned to her other two kids. “Claire, you be on your best behavior for your brother. Owen, I’ll be back in a few hours. Make sure she stays in sight and out of things.” Owen nodded as he flipped his laptop back open.
“Where’s my purse? Owen, did you move it? It was here on the counter.”
Outside, the morning air was crisp, that of a sweet summer day in June. Aaiden’s baseball cap sat tilted atop his head, displaying his character. His rustic, torn jeans and sleeveless tee were the icing. Throwing his suitcase in the trunk, he leaned against the side of the 06’ Honda Civic, sipping a Monster energy drink.
Riding up the street on his bicycle was Jesse Kline; a neighbor kid Aaiden knew from his LDS ward. Aaiden nodded to Jesse as his bike came to a stop.
“Where you going?” Jesse questioned, noticing the suitcase in the open trunk.
“Away,” answered Aaiden. Jesse’s clean cut plaid shirt and neatly combed black hair glistened in the light. His face still focused on Aaiden.
“But where?” he asked.
“Idaho, if you must know. I’ll be there all summer. Just working for my uncle.” Jesse’s head bobbed in understanding. A
Aiden rolled his eyes, shutting the trunk.
“Well, see ya,” he replied, riding away on his bike.
Every white line in the center of the road seemed to pass one after the other for eternity. This made the drive to the San Diego Airport all the more longer. Sarah readjusted herself in the driver seat. Neither she nor Aaiden had spoken since they left their home.
“Are you excited to be going, Aaiden?” She asked, abruptly. He stared out the window in solemn silence, not wanting conversation but gave in.
“No…” was his reply.
“Well Uncle Randy and Aunt Kate are very excited for you to come and help out.” Aaiden turned his glance toward his mother.
“Yeah…right,” he paused, “I’m only going there because you think I’m trouble. You’re just trying to get rid of me for the summer so I don’t get arrested.”
“Honey, you know that’s not entirely true. Of course I want you home. But I think you ought to learn a little more responsibility and sort out your priorities. You’ll be a senior this coming year and I just want to know that you’ll make the right choices. I know you don’t hang around,” she laughed, “gangs or anything but the attitude has got to stop.”
Aaiden didn’t say a word. His glance turned toward the window once again. The word “gang” brought back the events of last night. Pete is dead because of him. And there’s nothing he can do now. Gangs are a part of him. Pete was a part of him.
Sarah silently observed her son’s silence. A concerned, motherly look planted in her frown, “I’m sorry Aaiden. I didn’t mean to say that you’re not responsible. Because I know you are. I know the move to the city hasn’t been easy on you. But we couldn’t afford the home that dad had provided. I shouldn’t have said any—”
Aaiden cut her off with a snap, “Stop it! I don’t want to talk.”
(Incomplete)
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