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One ♰ Late Spring
TEN YEARS AND TWO DAYS BEFORE THE DEATH OF AILETH MORGENSTERN. [Coney Island, 1999. AFTERNOON.]
A six-year-old PERCY sits in his assigned spot at the beach, head down as he does his best to stay out of trouble. NANCY BOBOFIT— his tormentor in the making— is perched next to him, peanut butter infested fists waiting to take a swing at anyone she deems a threat to her peace.
Their group from the school trip has settled on this particular spot along the coast, a fact that Percy doesn't mind. The sea is pretty— the tide falls back when he leaves and inches forth when he creeps closer to the shore, as though it's drawn to him. Most of the kids have already begun to inch away from Nancy, but he doesn't— at this age she's still taller than him, and he's seen enough of what she's done to kids like him to know that if he does anything out of line to provoke her, he's going to return home black and blue and probably with a broken bone or two.
Not that he minds. Percy can take it, he's had plenty of practice with Gabe at home. But he knows from his last round with his stepfather that the sight of him injured makes his mom upset, and that's the last thing he wants.
So he does his best not to do anything that may draw Nancy's attention, but it appears being careful and minding his own business isn't enough— because at one point Nancy turns to him, scowling at him as though he's just shredded her favorite teddy bear and tossed the pieces into the ocean.
"You're too close to me!" she cries out, glaring in his direction.
It's okay, Percy tells himself. Gabe gets like this, too— everyone has bad days, right?
So he mutters a sorry under his breath and moves a good few meters away, bringing the tools he's playing with closer to him as he starts to work on another sandcastle (all while sneaking glances back at Nancy to see if there's any chance he'll be able to go back and finish the previous one— he's been working on it since they got here, and as much as he wants to get home unscathed, it doesn't sit well with him that he has to move away because of her).
And yet even that's not enough to satisfy her. Of course not. Soon enough Percy gets a fistful of sand thrown in his face, and Nancy has her tongue stuck out at him— right about the meanest gesture a six year old could ever offer, on top of the list alongside calling someone names.
He sputters, choking on the sand and instinctively starts scratching at his eyes, hoping to stop the stinging. (Nancy's laughing, he's sure, but he reminds himself not to do anything that might end up getting him hurt. Again: Percy doesn't care for self-preservation, but he does care for how his mother might feel.)
From his peripherals he sees a girl with pale, white-gold locks bend down next to him. He shifts away immediately and stumbles over himself, worried that she's one of Nancy's friends and is going to start tormenting him, too.
