VANISHED: CHAPTER ONE

              ONE

 

I heard the screen door slam shut behind me as I entered the house.

     “Home!” I shouted, easing my heavy backpack off my shoulders and laying it on the kitchen table. I looked around. It was quiet, too quiet.

     I walked in the laundry room, adjoined to the kitchen.

     “Hello!” Nothing. 

     “Anybody in here?” I yelled, going up and down the hall, stopping at my room. I peered inside.

     “Boo!”

     I jumped"almost several feet I bet"backwards as my little brother sprang out of the closet.

     “What the heck were you doing in there?” I questioned, ruffling his brown curly hair.

     “Waitin’ to scare ya,” he replied, smiling up at me, his hazel eyes shining.  

     I wrapped my arms around him, squeezing him tightly in a bear hug, as he giggled. I started tickling him.

     “Stop, stop,” he begged, between laughs. He smiled that one-side cocky smile of his.

     I playfully punched his shoulder. “Is your homework finished?”

     He shook his head. “Nope.”

     “Well, start on it okay?” I told him, collapsing on my bed, my heart rate finally going down.

      “Okay.” He looked at me. “Can I do it in here?”

     I shrugged out of my worn Converse sneakers. “Sure, I don’t care.”

     He smiled before running down the hall into his room.

     My brother, my dad and I lived out in a small country town in Alabama. We were about twenty minutes west of Montgomery. My dad"Ronny"liked to grow tomatoes and corn and stuff out here. He’s not all there in the head. He gets a disability check for “mental illnesses”.

     My mother was a Native Americans. She had pretty jet black hair, green eyes, and olive skin. But I heard her daddy was white, according to Ronny. She ran off and left us when my little brother"Levi"was only a baby. I never forget that. Ronny yelling, half begging her to stay. She cussed him flat out.

     Ronny was an alcoholic, a real bad one. He’d drink till he made himself sick as a dog. He and Mama used to fight a lot, alcohol related. We had policemen at our house so many times I’d get used to them. I even befriended one of the nicer ones; his name was Dylan Conley.

     After Mama left, Ronny’s drinking accelerated, to the point where he was deemed mentally ill. I just about raised my brother, and I love the hell out of that kid.

     I padded to the kitchen, barefoot, and picked up my backpack that I had laid on the kitchen table. I had some geometry homework, English, and a report due tomorrow for my Spanish class.

     Once I got back to my room, Levi was already laid across my bed.

     “Hey Lindsey,” he called me, “what’s seven times nine?”
     I snorted, taking my proper place and my desk, which was my dresser with a small folding chair placed against it. “Figure it out.”

     He sighed, and thought for a minute. “Is it sixty-three?”

     I nodded, getting out some scrap paper. “Yep.”

     The tell-tale sound of the screen shutting and heavy footsteps upon the kitchen linoleum floor meant only one thing.

     Levi sighed. “There goes that retched Ronald Conan.”

     “Hey!” I snapped, turning to him. “He’s Dad, to you.”

     And how the hell was I supposed to teach him respect if all I called “Dad” was Ronny, at least in front of Levi.

     “Dad whatever,” Levi mumbled, obviously loud enough for me to hear.

     I rolled my eyes, ignoring him, and continued doing my work.

     “I’m home,” Ronny called from my doorway. He was swaying a beer bottle in his hand.

     “Hey,” I said, not looking up. Levi said nothing.

     “Sorry I’m late,” he said slowly, sitting on the edge of my bed. His voice reminded me of Forrest Gump. “How was school?”

     “Okay,” I said and Levi said, “Fine.”

     “Okay.” Another swig of beer. “I’ll be up front. Lindsey?”

     “Yeah.”

     “You can order a pizza or something.”

     I finished my geometry homework. “Okay, but I need some money.”

     He slowly got off the bed, the bed creaking under the release of pressure. “Look in the food jar above the stove.”

     “Alright,” I sighed. There was only a few pennies in that food jar, nothing else. I would have to scrap up some money, or make sandwiches. Then I realized we ran out of bread. The last piece of bread was Levi’s breakfast.

     After my homework had finished, I went up to the kitchen passing by Levi, who was sitting in the living room with the TV blasting. In our mobile home, there was no privacy. There was the kitchen, which also was the foyer"the living room, with the TV"and a hallway that was my room, Levi’s room and Ronny’s room.

     I stood on my tiptoes"I hate being short"as I got down the food jar, which used to house my old timey butter cookies. I was right. Three pennies exactly. And here came Ronny, stumbling like a dizzy mule through the kitchen.

     “How am I supposed to buy pizza with three pennies?” I asked, placing the cookie jar on the wooden kitchen table.

     He looked at the jar, then blinked as if that could make more money appear. “I don’t know. I could’ve sworn"”

     “Give me some money,” I cut him off.

     “But"”

     “Ronald Conan,” I called him by his full name. “Do you want alcohol or food?”

     He seemed to think that mindless question over, and sighed, as if he had lost his best friend. Then he bended over and pulled a twenty dollar bill from his shoe.

     “Here you go.” He slapped the money on the table.

     Damn. “Ronald, Ronald, Ronald.” I shook my head.

     “What you do that for?” He quickly rubbed the blond stubble"matching his hair color"growing on his face.

     “That’s food right there.” I pointed to the twenty dollar bill.

     “I was gonna buy a beer case with that,” he said sadly, his bottom lip poking out, as if he was a three-year-old.

     I jerked a finger at him. “You can’t live off of beer and neither can Levi or myself.” I stuck the twenty dollar bill in the back pocket of my jeans. “We’re living off a damn disability check and my little earnings from working at the grocery store and you wanna live off beer.” I shook my head. “You kill me.”

     He slumped into a chair, and rested his chin on his elbows, which were propped on the table. “That ain’t fair Lindsey.”

     “Life isn’t fair,” I shot back, reaching above the refrigerator to get the phone. I dialed the nearest pizza joint.

     “Cole Lanier speaking, thanks for calling Pizza Galore, how may I help you?” The recognizable husky voice of my best friend was on the other end. I smiled.

     “Hey Cole; it’s me, Lindsey Conan.” I ran my fingers through my blond French braid. “How are you?”

     “Hey Lindsey.” He instantly sounded a little more cheery. “Great, you?”

     “Good.” I smiled.

     “Yeah, I just got this job. This is my first day.” He voice dropped to a low whisper. “I’m getting sick of answering this damn phone.”

     I laughed. “Although this may be your first day, this also may be your last. You’d better watch it. Carl has bionic ears.” Carl Dinesen was the owner of Pizza Galore, and he grew up with my dad.   

     Cole laughed. “Yeah, yeah, maybe you’re right.” He paused for a minute, bothering to yell something intelligible to someone in the background. “Ready to place your order?”

     “Yeah,” I said, doing the Pizza Galore math in my head. Twenty dollars there could get a large pizza, a two-liter thing of soda, and the fee for delivery. “Can I have a large cheese pizza and a two-liter Pepsi? Delivery please.”

     “You must call often,” he laughed as I heard the scribble of a pen.

     “Only when there’s money.” I looked over at Ronny; his head leaned back as he snored loudly. He was asleep, his mouth hanging wide open.

     “Yeah,” Cole said quietly. “I know.” There was a slight pause. “Oh yeah, Kristy’s having a party at her place tomorrow. You can come if you’d like.”

     Tomorrow was Friday. “I don’t know about that.” Kristy and I didn’t see eye-to-eye on everything.

     “Don’t be a p***y,” Cole said, laughing that hoarse laugh of his. “I invited you, so it’ll be fine. Promise.”

     I shifted on my two feet. “Not so sure about that. Someone has to watch Levi.”

     “Is Ronny too retarded to watch ‘im?” Cole laughed again and I laughed with him.

     “Last time I entrusted Ronny to Levi, Levi nearly set the trailer on fire cooking Mac-and-cheese. Where was Ronny? In his garden, drinking away.”

     “Bring him,” Cole said, as if he resolved the problem. “He can come. Kristy’s got a little brother; he’s about Levi’s age.”

     I bit my lip. “I don’t know.”

     “Can we talk about this at school tomorrow, I gotta go.”

     I giggled. “Of course you do jackass. You’re at work.”

     He laughed. Well"jeez I’m coming!"I gotta go. See ya.” Click. He was gone.

     I put the phone back on top of the fridge and tiptoed back to my room and left Ronny, snoring like a bull.

     Minutes later, the delivery guy came. I paid him for the pizza and he left. By this time, Ronny was already awake and we all ate.

     I looked at Levi, smiling and happy. But I never would’ve thought that this would be the last night that I would share a meal with him again.   

Author's Note

ignore grammar problems if any.