July (The Year of The Change Book 1) (19 page)

The game was too far away. I couldn't hear or see anything from that distance so I closed my eyes and leaned my head back. My knee swelled, and the ice helped to numb it a little. It was warm and stuffy in the van with no way to crack a window without the key. As if I’d be brave enough to do so. It could’ve been worse, I guess. I could’ve been stuck in here with the twins. I would be okay for now.

My stomach was hungry and wished I would go to the concession stand for a couple of hot dogs, some chips, maybe a hamburger or two. It smiled at the memory of the smell that had drifted over the bleachers. My stomach grumbled. It was thirsty, too. Opening my eyes I looked around the van hoping the food basket was still inside. No such luck. Sue must’ve taken it out to clean and restock. My stomach pouted as I closed my eyes and tried to get comfortable.

The feeling of not being alone slowly overpowered me. I hesitantly raised my lashes to hazard a look out the windows. My stomach rolled. I wished that I’d kept them closed. Six affected boys stood a dozen yards off staring at the van. I recognized a few from the stands. Steve and Paul were in the crowd. The windows were tinted so they couldn’t see me clearly. As a blob of baseball caps, shorts and lopsided smiles, the group moved a couple of steps closer. Perhaps they were slowly building their nerve. Or maybe The Change was leaking out and reeling them in like a stream trout I once saw on TV. Only they weren't fighting it like the trout had. It didn’t matter why they came, only that it was happening.

I looked past them. Other slack-jawed boys, arms loose at their sides, made their way towards me.

A dark vision of an old black and white movie popped into my head: zombies, as they shuffled toward their victim, emotionless and hungry. The boys weren’t emotionless, since they all wore goofy grins. They did look hungry in a glazed, out of control sort of way. I was so glad the doors were locked.

They were locked, right?

Fear rippled through me. I shot a glance at the closest door. I was pretty sure I remembered hearing the locks engage. Did they all engage? From where I sat it looked like the door closest to me was locked. All I could do now was use some more of my dangerously low supply of hope.

The first of the male crowd – Steve, or was it Paul? - reached out and tentatively placed a hand on the van as though he were touching a shrine. Lowering himself until his nose pressed against the glass, he squinted in. As long as they can’t get to me, I can handle this. Please let the doors be locked!

As they encircled the van I put my hands over my eyes. I went to my happy place. Oklahoma. What would I be doing today if we hadn’t moved and The Change hadn’t ruined my life? I would be home from swim practice and a day at the pool. No, today had been a swim meet that I missed out on. Donny and I would be celebrating how well we did, maybe a movie with our friends, or at the least, games at his house.

His mom was great and always encouraged Donny to invite his friends to their home. She liked us around, not even minding drop-ins. I would never invited anyone home without clearing it with Sue a week in advance, even then never more than two at a time.

The van rocked. Oklahoma was yanked away. My eyes popped open as I threw my arms out to brace myself. One of the boys, about fourteen with light hair and freckles, was trying to get the side door open. The others watched him. At least that one was locked.

Of course, no one tried to stop him. Perhaps they were hoping he would succeed so they could get in, too. The more frustrated Freckles got, the harder he yanked on the door. I held onto the seat and could only hope the lock held.

Another boy tried the other side door. His yanking made the van sway harder. It, too, was locked. My hope was holding its own, barely. Another boy pulled the front passenger door, as a forth tugged on the driver’s door. One side of boys would pull then the other side of boys, causing the van to rock precariously.

Whew, the doors were all locked and holding. What did they think they were going to do, break the doors open? The panic seeped through me … I swallowed convulsively … that had to be exactly what they were thinking.

Past the boys was a field of cars and trucks. I didn’t see my father anywhere. I didn’t see Rob, either.

I heard a cheer go up in the stands. They were probably too distracted to see what was going on out here in the far reaches of the parking lot.

If the nauseating movement wasn’t bad enough there was a boy on the other side of the glass from my head. He’d been one of the first to reach the van. I still couldn’t remember if it was Paul or Steve. I tried to ignore him. He tired of not getting a response and rapped on the glass.

“Sylvia, let me in.”

There was no way on God’s green earth I was going to do that. The boy was more than a little addled.

The others, like sheep, followed his lead. They too tapped on the windows and begged me to let them in. I covered my ears and tried to return to my happy place, to no avail. My hands shook from the noise and rocking. At the end of my proverbial rope, I got up with the intent of honking the horn to get my dad’s attention. Having to stay off my bad knee made me unstable. When they saw my movement they rocked the van even harder. I fell between the two middle seats and got wedged there, unable to get up. My knee throbbed from slamming to the floor as I fell.

The boys all saw me fall. Now, concerned that I might be hurt, they franticly tugged at the doors. The stupid twerps were the cause and now they were frenzied about my safety? I couldn’t win for losing.

They hit the windows harder as they yelled my name. Frustrated, I lay back and concentrated on my breathing while I covered my ears. It wouldn’t do for me to hyperventilate and add to my problems. I only hoped they didn’t break the tempered glass. There was no way for me to protect myself from the shards -- I shuddered -- or anything else.

The voice of an angel boomed nearby. The boys immediately stopped pounding. A gruff male voice that I didn’t recognize scolded the boys for beating on our car. There was quiet and the van wobbled to a standstill. I strained to see my rescuer. He was too far away. I lay back, an arm over my eyes.

“What are you boys doing?” There were murmurs. “There’s someone in the van who got hurt?” The man's voice was concerned, and closer.

When I moved my arm, I saw a broad shouldered police officer in his fifties looking in. He must not have been able to see me with the tinted glass. The boys crowded around to peek in, too.

“Back up and give me some room.” I only hoped my dad would show up soon. “You said her name is Sally?” All the boys spoke at once. “Okay, okay … Sylvia.”

He peered in again, and looked from the backseat to the front. He couldn’t see me stuck in the middle like I was.

He made his voice gentle and friendly. “Sylvia, are you okay?”

No, I’m not okay. Sigh. “Yes, I’m fine.” I lied, hoping I spoke loud enough for him to hear me.

He cocked his head and realized where I was. “Do you need some help?”

Nothing is going to help me this year. “No, sir.”

He cleared his throat. “Why are you lying on the floor, locked in the van?

This was so embarrassing. “Because the boys won’t leave me alone.”

He growled at the guys, who had, again, gathered too close. “Get back!” He waited until the boys were further away this time. “Sylvia, you want to open the door?”

Was he crazy? “No, sir.”

“Why not?”

I lied, a little. “Because I promised my dad I wouldn’t open it.” That wasn’t such a bad lie, it was almost the truth. Dad would’ve made me promise if I didn’t already know how stupid it would be to open the door.

“Where’s your father, Sylvia?”

That’s a good question.

“I’m right here sheriff.” My dad’s wonderful voice came from a short distance away.

I breathed with relief.

“Why is your daughter locked in the car?” The sheriff's voice wasn’t as friendly.

“She got hurt in the stands and was resting.”

“Why is she locked in there?” His voice deepened.

I'm locked in here because I’m a whole lot of trouble that should not be unleashed on the unsuspecting people of this area. The boys, in any case, should be protected from me. And the people around them … and their parents’ embarrassment … and … I could go on and on and on.

The sheriff growled again. “Get back! I’d better not have to tell you again.”

Dad steadied his voice and spoke slowly. I thought he should annunciate more clearly as well. It was going to take a lot for the officer to understand this weird situation.

“Because the boys …” He waved his arms at the crowd. “… Won’t leave her alone.”

The sheriff narrowed his eyes. He must be deciding if my father was serious. He looked over at the agitated mob and pursed his lips. From where I lay he looked as though he was beginning to understand. Then again, I didn’t have a good vantage point.

“You want to check on Sylvia? The boys said she got hurt in there.”

Dad quickly pushed the button on his key ring. All the locks opened and the boys rushed the van. The sheriff, Dad, and Jon, whom I hadn't seen standing behind Dad, fended the guys off. Some parents arrived and dragged most of the boys away.

When it was quiet, and the remaining boys were at bay, Dad opened the side door and found where I was stuck. He helped me up and I sat sideways in the chair. My hurt leg hung out the open door.

The sheriff looked at me appraisingly. With the way the boys behaved, he probably expected a raving beauty. Instead it was just plain old me. I think he was a little disappointed.

Dad smoothed my hair. “Are you okay, Sylv?”

I couldn’t look him in the eye. “Yeah, just a little scared.”

The sheriff watched me rub my sore knee. “How’d you hurt your knee?”

I looked at Dad not sure what to say.

Dad hugged me. “A kid was goofing around under the bleachers and pulled her leg.”

Jon stiffened at the watered down version. “It was the Bvelka boy and if Tina Marie’s boy, here …” He indicated Rob, who appeared out of nowhere, “…hadn’t stopped him he would’ve pulled her all the way through.”

Jon was more upset about this than my dad was. Of course, Jon didn’t know all of it was my fault.

The sheriff and I kept a wary eye on the small crowd of boys that lingered about ten yards away. They always looked on the verge of coming closer. Only the sheriff’s steely glare kept them back.

Jon’s daughter, Sheila, walked up with the two girls she’d sat with in the bleachers. They stopped in front of the crowd of boys. That’s when I noticed her cute boyfriend was in the crowd. Uh-oh.

Shelia put her hands on her hips as the two other girls crossed theirs over their chests. “Aaron, what’re you doing here? You said you were going to get us a hot dog.”

My stomach growled.

He barely glanced at her. “I was, but Sylvia got hurt.” His voice trailed off as his attention was back to me and his eyes caught mine. He smiled broadly and winked. I jerked my head to face Jon, who’d witnessed the same thing. Jon looked me in the eyes while he fought back a smile. His daughter followed Aaron’s stare.

Jon whispered, “I won’t have to worry about him anymore.”

He was right. The look on Sheila’s face was first shock then pure anger. If looks could kill, Aaron would be lying motionless on the ground.

Aaron was oblivious as he kept trying to get my attention back. Sheila pulled a rather large ring off her finger and threw it at him. It bounced off his chest, unnoticed, and landed without a sound in the brown grass at his feet.

Jon balled up his fist and pulled it to his chest. “Yesssss!!!” He was a happy papa.

Sheila stormed off. You could almost see steam rise from her departing body. I felt so bad for her, it was entirely my fault.

The sheriff, who also witnessed the break up scene, scratched his head as he looked from me to Aaron’s group of jittery zombies and back. “Are you going to be alright, Sylvia?”

“Yes, I’ll be fine.” I sighed and moved to climb to the back seat.

“Wait, I’ll take you to Aunt Betty’s.” Dad looked over his shoulder at the crowd of boys.

“It’s okay, I’ll stay locked in the van. Just keep checking on me.” Would this day never end?

“I’ll keep an eye on her, too.” The sheriff chuckled. “This is going to be an interesting story to tell around the station.” He shook his head and muttered. “No one’s going to believe it though.” The big man stomped off to disperse the agitated boys.

Dad helped me to the back seat. “Can I get you anything?”

“Yeah, I’m starved and thirsty.”

“Okay, I’ll be right back.” He closed and locked the doors. I was much more attentive to the sound of each lock as they clicked in unison.

He and Jon walked past the boys, who reluctantly left. The sheriff waved for them to stop. They chatted for a minute. The sheriff pointed down the parking lot. Dad nodded and headed back to me. Jon and the sheriff herded the guys to the safety of the game.

Dad unlocked the driver’s side and hopped in. “The sheriff said he would move his cruiser and we can park in his spot by the field. It’s not a great location, but you’ll be able to see some of the game.”