The Bio of Beast: January 2010

As promised, this is the what I’ve been working on. This is the first chapter of a story I’ve been writing. So far I have not revised it and only a handful of people have read it. I’m posting it on here to see how people respond to it, so if you like it, please let me know in a comment. Also, if you have any constructive criticism please let me know as well. Again, this is not a revised version, but I hope you enjoy it and if you do there will be more to come.

The old wooden alarm clock read 6:27AM. In a few minutes it would go off, but he was already awake. Walter had been awake the whole night. He rolled over and sat up on the edge of the bed. He looked around the room. It was a cheap apartment on the lower west side of town. Outside he could hear the delivery trucks and the business owners. His thin, wood paneled walls were covered with old posters and pictures from college and his family. He spotted a picture of himself and his brother Jason. He chuckled. They weren’t really brothers, but the closest thing to it. The first time they met was in second grade.

The lunch bell had just gone off and the second graders started back to their rooms. Walter stopped by the bathroom. When he entered he noticed three older boys huddled around a younger one on the floor.

“Let’s break his nose!”

“Let’s steal his backpack!”

“Take it easy guys,” said Alex. The two others looked up at him. Their leader was much taller than they were. He wore a black, button down shirt, which he tucked into his black denim pants, which came over his black, shiny boots. He smiled. “Bruce, hold him down. Rob, go through his bag and see what he has.”

Bruce and Rob did as they were ordered. Following orders from their ringleader seemed to be the only thing they knew how to do. They were fourth graders, but only because they had been held back two years. They were both stocky but their clothes were still too big for them. Their families were both poor, so clothes were handed down from brother to brother. Not that any family in the west side was well off, but they came from the lower west side. The side of town Walter’s mother warned him never to go to.

Bruce’s baggy shirt was awkwardly tucked in, making him look more round than normal. His shirt was multi colored, and his pants used to be bright denim but now looked dull after so much use. What made his outfit stand out were his bright red shoes. They were Converse sneakers and Bruce’s prized possession, mainly because he had bought them with the money he stole from other kids. Because his mother didn’t know how he got them, he kept them in his book bag and put them on during home room every morning. His mother never found them. After all, she was too busy working two jobs to worry about what was in her son’s book bag.

Rob was the same size as Bruce, and also wore hand-me-down clothes. His clothes weren’t from his brother, however. They were forgotten items from the various men his mother had over. He didn’t know why she had so many friends come visit her late at night, and then hurriedly leave after an hour or so. He had on a tattered concert shirt from some long forgotten band and his jeans had holes in them. His shoes were old, and the soles were coming off making them flap every time he walked. With the stolen money Rob had, he bought a Cincinnati Reds hat which he now wore. He made sure to clean it regularly so it remained a brilliant red.

As Bruce and Rob went on towards the second grader, Alex turned away, spotting Walter. Even for a second grader, Walter was small. As Alex came towards him, Walter barely reached his chest. Seeing the two from a glance over his back, Rob came and stood by Alex’s side.

“Back off,” Walter said in a voice much more confident than he really was.

“Says who?” asked Alex. Just then, the door swung open and entered Mr. Carter, a math teacher, heading straight for the urinals with a panicked look on his face. He stopped when he saw the boys. The second grader was still sprawled on the floor with Bruce pinning him down. Alex and Rob were towering over Walter.

“Sorry I tripped and knocked you down, kid,” Bruce said to his victim, loud enough so Mr. Carter could hear him. He then got up and the three walked out the door. Mr. Carter quickly used the restroom and hurried out. Walter walked over to his peer and gave him a hand up.

“Are you alright?” Walter asked.

“Yeah I’ll be fine, thanks to you. I was hoping somebody would come in and help me.”

“You should’ve stood up for yourself. Hoping doesn’t get you much.”

“Attention students,” said the loudspeaker. It was the voice of Mr. Carter. “Would Alexander Tillinghast, Bruce Jager, and Robert O’Malley please come to the office immediately?” The other boy smiled.

“All you need is hope.” He laughed. It was an infectious laugh that made Walter smile too. “I’m Jason, what’s your name?”

Walter stood up and took the picture off the wall. It was taken the summer after their sophomore year in college. Since they had met, he and Jason became the closest of friends. They were on the same sports teams, in most of the same classes, and ended up going to the same college. In the picture they were standing in front of a stadium, one that they always snuck into when they were younger to see the college baseball team play.

Jason was always better at baseball, Walter thought. Jason was always better at everything. He always made first string. He always had the girls. He always made the grades. And it was true. When they went to college they both tried out for the team, and Jason had made it when Walter didn’t. The picture that was taken had been before Jason’s first game. Walter thought back to that bright summer day. He had long ago decided that was the day that changed everything.

After the game, the baseball team boarded their bus and was headed out to another school for a camp they were starting. On their way, the brakes went out and the bus crashed on the highway, killing nine people, one of them being Jason.

After Jason’s death Walter was never really the same. He never seemed to find joy in the things he usually did because he and Jason always did them together. Then the doctor discovered Walter’s mother had cancer, too late, it seemed, to do anything about it. She died Christmas day his junior year. He quit school to help support his family. The creditors were coming after his father who, after his wife’s death had become an alcoholic and lost his job. Walter became the sole provider for his family doing odd jobs wherever he could find them. His sister was able to get into college, and because of the family’s situation was able to get enough financial aid to cover her college expenses. His father was now in rehab for the third time. Walker flipped the picture frame over and undid the screws holding down the back. He slid the picture out.

He got in the shower, dried off and started getting dressed. He glanced in the mirror. He had bags under his eyes from tossing and turning all night. His stomach growled but he was too nervous to eat. He had a big interview this afternoon in the city. If he could land this job, then his life would be so much better he thought. All he needed was the opportunity.

But he thought about the reality of him getting the job. He was a college drop out in a cheap suite. How could he possibly get this job? He looked at the picture again. Jason was smiling, bright and radiant like he always did. He always livened up the atmosphere wherever he was. His attitude was always positive. Walter thought about how the atmosphere dampened after his death. He tossed the picture back on the bed. That’s when he saw it. There was something written on the back of the picture. How had he never seen it before? It must have always been there.

“All you need is hope.” It was Jason’s handwriting. Walter thought back to high school. Jason always had hope. Maybe that’s why he always did better on the sports teams. He always thought he could do better, and he always did better. Maybe that’s why he seemed to have more dates. He always had a positive attitude about everything; no wonder girls adored him. Maybe that’s why he did better in classes; he understood that an education was the only way out of the poor town they lived in.

Walter thought back to his mother’s death. His family seemed to have lost hope. His dad turned to the bottle and lost his job. Walter quit school to pick up some of the slack. Maybe if he had just listened to what Jason had always said, things would have been different. He put the picture back in the frame and hung it on the wall. He walked east towards the city thinking about different times he and Jason had. His stomach growled again. He really needed something to eat.

He stopped in a small diner on one of the side streets. He had walked past it several times, but had never thought to go in. It was a family run restaurant that had been there since the town was young. The tables were as old as the building and the ceiling had water stains all over. He sat down and ordered coffee and eggs, and read the morning paper. The store’s telephone rang, and his waitress answered it. He finished his food and looked at his watch. He needed to get going.

“Excuse me miss,” he said to his waitress, “do you mind if I get the check?”

She nodded and quickly ended the conversation. Her eyes were red and she wiped her face before coming back with the check.

“I’m sorry, sir,” she said. “I hope I haven’t kept you too long.” Though she appeared happy, it was quite obvious she wasn’t.

“No, you’re fine,” Walter said apologetically. Another table called for her. She told him she would be right back and left to help them. He pulled out his wallet and the money for his bill. He thought for a minute, took out a pen and scribbled something down.

Gathering up the morning paper, Walter walked out of the diner. The sun shone bright on the city. People in suites walked up and down the street. There were kids playing ball in traffic and mothers yelling out windows for their children to get out of the road. He thought of Jason, and how Jason’s attitude would be right now. His pace increased and he smiled as he entered the office building, his newfound courage leading the way.