The Curious Case of Benjamin Braeden

Chapter 1

"Highway to hell..." The sounds of Angus Young's guitar and Bon Scott's raspy voice echoed in the garage.

"Ben! Turn that down! Everyone can hear you!"

"What?!"

"Turn that down! The neighbors can hear you!"

"What?!"

Click. "I said, turn that down. It doesn't have to be so loud."

"Sorry, Mom. But you have to listen to ACDC loud, it's the only way to do it. It's just wrong not to." Ben shouted from beneath the body of the car, grinning. Lisa left the garage, and Ben cranked up the music again, only mildly quieter. He always listened to ACDC when working on his cars, it was just something he did. Ben didn't exactly know why, but he did it anyway. He was currently refurbishing an old '69 Mustang, a car he had admired for years. Mustangs were nice cars, great cars, but not as awesome as the classic Chevy Impala. That car was a beast, all in all the most bad-ass car anyone could drive. Ben had never gotten to see one up close. He desperately wished he could.

Ben inched out from under the car, covered in black marks and scuffs. He stopped the music, picked up and old, dirty rag, and wiped down his arms and hands. He ran his hands through his thick, black hair as he stood before the Mustang. She's almost finished, he thought to himself. Just a few more tweaks. This would be Ben's first car to completely finish on his own. Yeah, he did work like this all the time at the auto shop, but this Mustang would be just his work.

Ben worked at the local auto shop in town, Bob's Auto and Repair. He worked several nights a week to help bring in money for his mom. Ben loved it there. It felt more like home than anywhere else. Bob, the owner of the shop, always made sure Ben and Lisa were doing fine, and always made a point of connecting with Ben. He was sort of like the grandfather Ben never had. Ben picked up his phone, eager to call Bob to tell him the Mustang was almost done.

"Hello?" A gruff voice mumbled on the other line.

"Hey, Bobby, it's Ben."

"Oh, hey kiddo. What's goin' on?"

"I've almost finished the Mustang! I just have a few more tweaks, and then I think she'll be done. Mind if I drive her over tomorrow for you to take a look?" Ben asked.

"Sure thing, just bring her on in when you come after school. Hey, how are you and your mom?"

"We're doing okay. It's always a bit rough, but I think she's doing all right. I think his is the happiest she's been since I was 10." Ben responded.

"All right, just wanted to check on you two. See you tomorrow, kid." Bob said before hanging up.

"Bye." Ben whispered into the phone. He sat down on the hood of the Mustang and slid down on his back. Realizing that he smelled of motor oil and sweat, Ben thought he'd better clean himself up. He walked out of the garage, and into the connecting house. Their house was a small, quaint two-story home with a large backyard. Lisa had put up pictures of their small two-person family around the house, as well as a few pictures of their distant relatives. The house was somewhat empty, since they moved in, neither Ben nor Lisa had put much effort into completely unpacking. It was like they never really wanted to be fully moved in, like they were waiting for someone to come back before they could really settle into the house.

Ben didn't fully remember why they had moved here in the first place. It might have been for his mom's work, but Ben was pretty sure it was something to do with their safety. Whatever. All that really mattered was that somehow they got to Battle Creek, Michigan.

As Ben stepped into the shower, he felt the steaming water run down his back. The heat felt good. His muscles relaxed, and all the dirt and grime washed away. Ben always found showers to be something like a miracle. They helped you wash away all your troubles, helped you forget all the things that sucked in your life, helped you not have to do everything for a few moments. It was like an escape from reality, even if only for fifteen minutes.

Feeling cleansed, Ben stopped the stream of hot water, grabbed a towel, and walked back to his room.

He sat down at his desk, rummaged through the papers, and found his homework. Ben knew he should be working on it, but none of that stuff seemed to matter. He knew he wouldn't be able to go to college, their family didn't have enough money for that, at least, not right now. Still, Ben didn't want to disappoint his mom, something he had found himself doing often. He wasn't the smartest kid, the most creative kid, and he was an outsider at school. He listened to rock music, he spent most of his time fixing up cars, and he had gotten into several fights over stupid reasons. Ben knew he was far from perfect, far from being anywhere near a "good kid." These thoughts constantly filled Ben's mind, and he was always internally worrying about something. He never let that part of himself show. He had to keep strong for his mom. Somehow.

Hours later, Ben emerged from his room, and walked downstairs. Dinner was out on the table. A note was next to the plate, "Here's some dinner. I didn't want to disturb you, so I just left it here for you. Make sure to put the dish away when you are done. Love you. Mom"

Ben smiled at the little note. He looked over and saw his mom asleep on the couch. She had been waiting for him to come down. Ben quietly walked over to the couch, picked up a blanket, and placed it over his mom. He sat down on the table next to the couch, and kissed her forehead.

"Thanks for everything, Mom. I'm sorry for not being the best son I could be."

Ben ate in silence as he watched her sleep. She looked so peaceful in this world of chaos. How did she do it? Act so normal on the outside? Of course, Ben knew she was having as much or even more trouble than him. She'd been through a lot, more than he could imagine. Ben placed his dish in the dishwasher and made his way back upstairs.

He lay down on his bed, and stared at the ceiling for a few moments before turning off the lamp and calling it a night.

"I'm on a Highway to Hell..." Ben whispered as he drifted off to sleep.