Alan Price and the Colossus of Rhodes (The Nephilim Chronicles) (2 page)

BOOK: Alan Price and the Colossus of Rhodes (The Nephilim Chronicles)
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Chapter 5

 

“The ancient Spartans were a
warrior civilization. They met whatever came their way head on. They were
fearless. Most notably, they were the group of Greeks that impeded the Persian
invasion of Greece. Although the first contingent that was sent to hold off the
Persian army all died at the battle of Thermopile, their sacrifice bought
Greece time to gather and mount a counter attack that would push back the
invading Persian legion.”

Alan stared wide-eyed at the slides
that changed along with the history teacher’s lecture. Pictures of muscular men
with bronze armor embodied everything Alan wished he could be. These men were
afraid of nothing. Men who made Brent Carson look like a spoiled
kindergartener.

Alan felt a smile spread across his
lips as he continued to look at the pictures on the slideshow from his front
seat in his favorite class. These men, these Spartans,
wouldn’t
hesitate to look death in the face, let alone go to a high school dance.

If his heroes could die for their
cause then Alan knew what he had to do. He had to take Dr. Larson’s advice and
go to the dance, no matter how scared he might be. Besides, this could be it.
Maybe this was the moment things would start looking up.

For the first time in a very long time,
Alan felt something more than the gaping hole of misery. Hope had been planted.
Alan was beginning to feel better all ready.

 

Chapter 6

 

“Nope, you can’t take the car.”

“I know you have rules but I’m
eighteen now and I have my license. I would only need it to go to the tuxedo
shop and to the dance tonight, that’s it.”

Tony raised his eyebrows and looked
at him as though he had heard him but didn’t believe him. “You’re going where?”

Alan agreed that it did sound out
of the ordinary for him. “I’m going to the dance tonight.” An idea popped into
Alan’s mind like a coiled spring being released. “Technically, it’s my
psychiatrist’s orders. She thought it would be good for me to get out of my
shell.”

Tony pursed his lips. “And how are
you going to afford a tuxedo there, James Bond? Those aren’t exactly cheap.”

“I know. I thought about that but I
still have the money I earned from working over the summer at the library. I
could use that.”

Tony let out a long sigh, “Listen,
buddy, I admire you wanting to go and your willingness to try and socialize but
the car is just off limits. I can give you a ride if you want. That’s the best
I can do.”

Alan knew arguing would be
pointless. Once Tony had made up his mind on a subject, it would be easier to
move a mountain than convince him otherwise. “Okay, thanks anyway.”

Alan bit his lower lip as he made
his way up the creaking stairs and to his room. Tony took care of three
orphaned boys including Alan. Since the other two boys were still in elementary
school, Alan was allowed to have his own room while the other two boys shared.
Alan entered his haven closing the door behind him.

You can’t give up now. Not when
you finally feel good about a plan.

Alan felt as if he had been
depressed for years. The anger was a more recent feeling. The anger came from
his inability to do anything about his depression. Now when hope had finally
been found Alan refused to let it go. Alan shuffled to his bed and threw
himself on top of the lumpy mattress.

There has to be a way.

Alan glanced out the window at the
setting sun. If there was going to be a way then he had to come up with one fast.
He still needed to get a tuxedo and make it to the dance. The notion of calling
Dr. Larson and asking her to pick him up as his date teased him. Alan smiled as
he shook his head.

Then the answer came to him from
the most unexpected person, Tony.

 

Chapter 7

 

“Alan,” Tony’s voice came through
the closed bedroom door. “The boys have their Scout meeting tonight. We’re
carpooling with the neighbors next door. We’ll be back by nine.”

Alan cocked his head to the side as
his brain processed a new plan. A dangerous plan that hinged on Tony and the
boys being driven by the neighbors.

“Alan? Did you hear me?”

“Uhh—yeah—okay.” Alan
could hear Tony’s feet walk across the wood floors soon accompanied by two
pairs of smaller running steps.

A small amount of adrenaline oozed
through Alan’s veins. He got to his feet and looked out his room window on the
second story. Sure enough, Tony and the boys were leaving the house.

Tony was dressed in a Scout uniform
that was made for someone a size or two smaller than he was. The two young boys
raced each other to the neighbor’s house. They weren’t taking Tony’s car.

You’re going to get in so much
trouble for this. But if everything goes well tonight, wouldn’t it be worth it?

Alan made his way downstairs to the
house’s garage. He paced back and forth deep in thought. Tony’s brand new
Mercedes Benz, sat sleek and beautiful in the dull light practically seducing
him to enter.

Alan fidgeted as he walked up and
down in front of the car, tapping a forefinger on his chin. “You have to. It’s
doctor’s orders.”

Somewhere in the back of Alan’s mind,
he knew he was doing the wrong thing. But he had made up a reason to justify
his actions. Given his current circumstances, that was enough for him.

Alan was and had always been a
great kid. Besides being late to the bus a few times, he was a model student
and always obeyed the rules Tony set in place. The possibility that Alan would
actually steal his car had never crossed Tony’s mind. Alan knew all of this and
almost felt bad, almost.

His fingers tingled as his skin
made contact with the cold spare keys Tony hung in the garage closet. His grip
tightened around the key ring, making indentions in his hand. He was doing it;
he was really going to do this.

Heart fluttering, Alan made sure he
had his wallet. It was there like a lump of guilt in his pocket.

You can do this. You can do
this.

Alan entered the car’s dark
interior. The seats embraced him in their promise of freedom. Alan closed the
door beside him, allowing his hands to run across the smooth steering wheel. He
trembled with a mix of fear and excitement. He pushed the ignition key, willing
the car to life. The engine purred, like a cat yawning from a nap.

Alan had only driven a few times
and never by himself. The deal Tony and he had made just a year before was one
Alan was positive Tony had only agreed to because he was sure Alan wouldn’t
succeed. The agreement was that Alan had to get straight A’s for the year. If
he did that, Tony would allow him to take driver’s education, but Alan still
had to find a way to pay for it himself.

Alan had made good on his end of
the bargain even getting a summer job at the city library to pay for his
driving classes. Tony had reluctantly allowed him to get his license but even then,
Alan had only driven a handful of times, always with Tony in the car bracing
himself against the dash as if at any moment Alan was going to wreck.

However, this time was different.
This time Alan was alone. Alan reached a finger to the visor and clicked the
garage door opener’s sticky blue button. Mechanical grating overcame the purr
of the engine as the door to his freedom opened. The sun’s last setting light
showed through the opening door with a soft glow.

This is it. After this, there is
no going back. You’ll be grounded for sure. Maybe even forced to move homes. But
if tonight you could stop being depressed, if tonight could be some type of
turning point, it would all be worth it.

Alan carefully put the car in
reverse, checked his mirrors and very slowly pulled out of the garage.

 

Chapter 8

 

“Oh, and why, yes, sir. You would
look absolutely gorgeous in this one. I mean just feel the quality of the
fabric. No, go ahead feel it. I mean this kind of material all over your body?
Forget about it, honey.”

Alan reached out a tentative hand
to touch the fabric. The sales associate at the tuxedo rental store was right.
It felt great.

“How much is this one?”

“Oh, let’s see here, you said just
a one day rental?”

Alan nodded. “Technically I just
need it for the night.”

“Oh, well, aren’t you cute. We
don’t rent by the hour so it’ll have to be a day. Going to a dance?”

Alan nodded at the energetic sales
associate. He was about Alan’s height wearing a skintight suit with a nametag
that read, “Enrique”.

“Three hundred and fifty-seven.”

Alan looked confused for a second
and then thought he realized where the misunderstanding had occurred. “Oh no,
I’m sorry. I said ‘rent’. I don’t want to buy it. I just need it for a few
hours.”

Enrique shook his head, his thickly
gelled hair not swaying the slightest bit. “No, sweetie, aren’t you too cute.
That
is
the rental price for the day.”

Alan’s mouth went dry. “Don’t you
have anything else?”

“I’m sorry. For the last few weeks,
we’ve been all but sold out. With the school dance coming up, I mean, my guess
is that would be the reason we’re so low on inventory. If you’d like I can call
around to see if any of our stores in the surrounding area have anything.”

Alan shook his head. He knew going
to another location now would mean he would be late for the dance. “No, no it’s
okay.” Alan forced out the words through a clenched jaw. The tuxedo would
almost deplete his savings from his summer job. Still he had come this far. The
words, “I’ll take it” came out slow and painful.

“Oh, well, you are making a great choice,
sir. I know it seems a bit expensive but the quality is superb and you can be
sure that everyone else will be looking at you.”

“Great.”

“If you have your card, I’ll ring
you up. Did you want to put it on now? You are more than welcome to use our changing
room.”

Alan looked up at a large clock on
the store’s wall. “Yeah, I better.”

Alan dug into his pocket. He handed
his bankcard to Enrique making himself think about anything besides the amount
of days he had had to work to earn this piece of clothing he would wear for a
few hours.

Enrique directed him to a dressing
room before he left to ring up Alan’s order.

Alan had no idea that a tuxedo had
so many parts. It seemed like there were more items to figure out where to put
by the minute. Socks and shoes were simple. Things like trying to tie the
bowtie and how exactly to place the cummerbund were more of a
challenge.  

“All rung up, sir,” Enrique’s voice
sounded through the thin dressing room curtain. “Do you need any help?”

Panic rose in Alan’s chest. “No, no,
I’m fine just trying to figure out this bowtie. It’s like trying to solve a
Rubik’s Cube.”

“Here, let me help,” Enrique pulled
back the curtain without showing the slightest pause. Before Alan could
protest, the tuxedo shop worker’s fingers were flying around Alan’s bowtie like
a trained professional.

“There,” Enrique said taking a step
back, “Very secret agent, sir. If I do say so myself.”

Alan, still recovering from the
curtains being drawn back, took a look at himself in the mirror. It was true.
His usual tall and lanky build had been totally transformed by the tuxedo. The
material made him look suave and important. It complimented his height while at
the same time masking his lack of muscle. Alan stood back stunned. Maybe he had
made the right decision this night after all.

“Well, better hurry,” Enrique said
handing Alan the receipt that held far too many digits. “You don’t want to miss
your hair appointment.”

“Hair appointment?”

“Ummmm… yeah, you can’t go to the
dance looking like that.”

Alan examined his hair in the
mirror. His straight dark blond locks fell to his shoulders. He hadn’t even
thought about getting a haircut.

Enrique took Alan’s silence in
stride. “Trust me, a tuxedo like that deserves a haircut to match. My cousin
Hector works right next door. Tell him cousin Estar sent you and he’ll hook you
up.”

 

Chapter 9

 

“Oh, child, you came to the right
place. I just got off the phone with Enrique and don’t worry, the haircut won’t
cost as much as the tux.”

Alan nodded doing the math in his
head trying to figure out how much money he had left. Hector was the spitting
image of Enrique, the two looked like they could be twins. “Okay, how much is
it?”

“I’ll do you right since my cousin
sent you over. Let’s say forty dollars but you have to promise not to go around
and tell people that. Why, if my other clients knew I was handing out haircuts
for that price– ” Hector waived a dismissive hand at the thought, “Well,
I’d be out of business in a week.”

Alan nodded doing the math in his
head again. He would be out of money almost to the dollar.

It’s going to be worth it: it’s
all going to be worth it.

“Come now, I understand you’re in a
hurry for a dance. But don’t worry. Being fashionably late is still in style.
And by the time I’m done with you, people will wait for your arrival to start
the party.”

Hector snapped his finger with a
headshake and directed Alan to a seat. Alan allowed Hector to place a cape
around him, tightened at the neck. The bright lights and hyperactive chatter
from other patrons in the hair salon made Alan feel anything except at ease.

Alan’s hair grew slowly. This
combined with the fact that Alan didn’t mind long hair meant he only visited a
barber a few times year. When he did get a cut, it was only because Tony
insisted. Tony would provide him with a few dollars and he would make his way
to a small mom-and-pop shop, which usually meant a nick or two on the ear.

Hector jawed on about dances and
how well Alan would be received as his fingers flew over Alan’s hair like his
cousin’s did while tying the bowtie.

Alan smiled as the hairdresser
chatted away, however his attention was elsewhere. As the time for the dance
grew closer, Alan began second guessing himself. His hands began to perspire on
the smooth metal of the styling chair.

What if you’re wrong? What if
you are doing all of this just to stand in the corner by yourself all over
again?

Alan started to zone out as the
familiar feelings of fear and doubt began to take over his once positive
outlook. Ironically, it was Hector’s voice that made him stop.

“Come on now, we have to wash and
style your hair.”

Alan looked up at the mirror in
front of him just as Hector ran to block his view.

“No—no peaking now. We’re
just about done. Follow me.”

Alan obeyed following the
hyperactive hairdresser to the washing basin. He sat in the leather
recliner-like chair laying his head back for Hector.

The salon attendant chattered on
while he used generous helpings of shampoo and conditioner.

“Nervous?”

Alan looked up at Hector’s smiling
face. “Why would you say that?”

“Ummm… well let’s see. You’ve
hardly said a word while you’ve been here, you look like you’re going to bore a
whole through whatever you’re looking at and I saw the sweat marks on my chair
when you got up.”

“Oh, I’m sorry I—“

“Don’t apologize. I’m just asking
if you’re nervous. First dance?”

“Yeah, I mean, I am nervous and
yes, it is my first dance.”

Hector dried his hair and
instructed Alan to follow him back to the styling seat. He stood in front of
Alan blocking his view in the mirror. “Don’t worry. We’ve all been there. Be
confident and know that you look great. The tuxedo is perfect and…” Hector’s
voice trailed off as he mixed a small amount of gel into Alan’s hair. “And your
hair—if I do say so myself—looks amazing.”

Hector stepped back taking off the
long apron covering Alan’s suit. Alan didn’t know what to say. He didn’t
recognize the person looking back at him with an open mouth.

Alan had always either had long
hair or hair in the process of becoming long. Hector had cut his hair short,
with a style that pushed the top forward. The front was combed up and to the
side. “What do you think?”

“I—I—“

“Good. That’s the response I was
looking for. Now come on, Cinderella, you’re going to be late for the ball.”

BOOK: Alan Price and the Colossus of Rhodes (The Nephilim Chronicles)
8.33Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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