The Second Coming

Chapter 5: Harry Remembers

“I’m so sorry dear, so so-pardon? Yes, he’s alright, don’t worry, he’s-come again? Yes, Richie is okay as well.”

My mother talked on the phone with Shelby for about twenty minutes, reassuring her about my, and as a second thought, Richie’s states. I knew we were leaving her to come to an empty house, but I had to bury my worries and prioritize Richie first. Now that it was all said and done, however, I began to worry about Shelby again. She was an obsessive worrier. But at least the emergency gave me an excuse for not being at the house.

“Dear, we’re on our way right now. Yes, we can’t wait to see you either. Goodbye honey.” She hung up the phone and let out a deep sigh. “Good luck with that one, Harry. I get the feeling she’s going to take up all of your time.”

“Cook her one of your gourmet pasta dishes for dinner,” I said, “You know she can’t resist those. I’ll finish early, go to wash my hands, and sneak away undetected. That way I’ve finished.”

“You’re not leaving her with us.”

“I’ll pay you twenty bucks.”

“You can’t bribe your mother you no good swindler.  Keep her off our hands or you get no desert.”

“No big deal, I’ve been thinking of going on a diet.”

“We’ll tell her where your new house is if you don’t.”

Suffice to say I shut up quickly.

As we arrived back at the home, many people from the family were already here. My father usually leaves the keys where the family can find them and invites them to open the door if he’s gone. I’ve come back to the house plenty of times this way when Victor pushed me out.

They grouped around the porch and in the house next to the door, anxiously waiting for us to pull up. My uncle Taylor and Aunt Maggy were the first two to come up to us as we left the car.

“How’s Richie?” asked Aunt Maggy, “I called Trisha as soon as I heard the news but she didn’t stay on for very long.”

“Richie is going to be okay,” reassured my mother, “But Trisha is under a lot of stress. It’s safe to say they’re not showing up tonight.”

“Of course not,” said Uncle Taylor, “Why in the hell would they show up in that condition?”

There was a small droning coming from inside the house. My warning instincts were on red alert. The next person that was going to come up and say hello-not to my parents, but to me-was Shelby. She ran out of the house in full sprint, the droning, now a full blown siren, was my name being obnoxiously drawn out.

I simply stood there, knowing that if I took a step to the right I could have completely avoided her, but then she would have run into the car. And she was stupid enough to do that.

So, against my better judgment, I stood there, as she added an extra, “Harry!” before jumping me.

She nearly knocked me over. I had to put my hand on the car to keep balance as she threw herself on me. When she let go, she stood in front of me like a shy school girl, pushing her hair back behind her ear and smiling at me. Well, she was still in school. Seventeen years old and a senior soon to graduate. She said that as soon as she did, she wanted to move in with me. I don’t think Victor would appreciate that.

Her hair was long and sandy brown, her natural color. Much better than the black and sunny blonde she had it died as before. Curious enough, that’s what I told her the last time I saw her.

I hate to admit it, but I felt a little giddy around her myself. Her green eyes were practically neon, hard to look at. And she was dressed for a party, in jeans and a blue jean jacket, just like always. And just like always, she had her mother’s cross hanging around her neck.

Noticing me look at it, she attempted to tuck it into her shirt all while talking at the same time so as not to make it obvious.

“Are you okay?” she asked, genuinely concerned.

“Of course I’m fine,” I retorted, looking away, “I’m not the one with holes in my hands.”

“Yeah, but I know how you get when it comes to Richie, so I thought you might be emotionally distressed or something.”

“Richie says hi, by the way.”

“Tell Richie I send him all my love.”

“The holes in his hands aren’t heart shapes, though.”

She teasingly shoved me as a response. Unlike Richie and I, she didn’t have the kind of wit to do a back and forth. But she didn’t admit her losses, either.

Most of the family had gone back into the house for dinner. Shelby said that she had something to tell me and I hung out on the porch with her before going in. I felt a little anxious. Also annoyed. But I’d be lying if I didn’t admit that my face was a bit flush. As much as I try to avoid her, she always finds a way to keep me waiting for her in some way or another.

“Well?” I asked impatiently. She was barely a foot away from my face as usual. Something she does on purpose, I just know it.

“We’re skipping dinner,” she said, flashing all her pearly whites at me. Dammit. Even her smile was cute.

“Wha-why? It’s pasta! You love my mom’s pasta.”

“I’ve got somewhere to take you.” Was she being flirty? She was never this flirty before. Never this up front before. It was a bit scary, considering you could never tell what was going on in that psychotic head of hers.

“B-But… pasta!”

“Shush.”

She grabbed my hand and took me away from the house before anyone could notice. I couldn’t mentally comprehend what was going on. Where in the world could she possibly want to take me? Some art exhibit for radioactive materials? A petting zoo with no fences? What made me even more nervous was that we were walking, not driving. I had half a mind to assume we would be crossing heavy traffic to get there.

She turned around once we reached the end of the block and looked at me innocently. Behind her was a river bank where we used to play as kids. Next to it was a set of swings. Nostalgia washed over my body. I hadn’t swung on those swings for years let alone seen them, yet they were practically in my parent’s backyard.

I suddenly realized what it was that she wanted to do. “Let’s go for a swing, Harry,” she said.

“What?”

“Push me on the swing.”