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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 

Living in Surreality - 26. Chapter 26

chapter 26:
: edited by viv :


Independence Day in Oak Meadow typified everything small-town America stood for; homemade floats parading down main street in a blur of patriotic colors, a barbecue picnic in the park put on by the local firehouse, all leading to an evening capped with fireworks at the local high school. All of these festivities, and the sense of community they gave Matt, made this his favorite of any holiday. He had grown up attending them as a matter of duty in his father's shadow, but in doing so, found his own place helping wherever he could. A lot had changed in the year since Matt was last standing in the bays of the firehouse cutting wedges of watermelon, even so, or maybe it was, in spite of, those changes, but Matt was determined not to slink out because of it.


"The parade is at one," Matt commented, reminding Jacob as he watched him pull on the black leather riding jacket with red racing stripes down the left panel that he and Valerie had given Jacob for graduation.


"We're only riding up Wild Oak road and back, Kid," Jacob reminded, as he sat down at the kitchen table. "It's not going to take three hours," Jacob smiled looking up at Matt.


Matt issued Jacob a latent shrug, "The parade starts at one," he echoed, using a tactic he had seen Joanne use hundreds of times when telling her son of important dates and times. Joanne began to chuckle as she stood at the counter cutting an orange.


"What's so funny?" Jacob asked his mother with a slight smile as she approached the table.


"Nothing," she replied matching his smile as she set the orange slices on the table and took her seat. The last three weeks seemed to fly by in a haze of rush and worry, things were picking up for her at work, and she dreaded the sight of Jacob donning his leather jacket with helmet in hand. As much as she worried about Jacob riding the bike, every time he rode off and returned just as he had left, she felt more at ease with his love of the contraption.


"Right," Jacob mocked, giving her a knowing glance as he reached over and stole three of her orange wedges, just as she had expected him to. "You're laughing 'cause he's picking up your dirty tricks," Jacob condemned with a smirk, his lips curling around a slice of orange.


A smile curled Joanne's lips, the forbearer to Jacob's own innocent, shocked smile Matt had relished in numerous times in the past. Her ploy at innocence was not lost on Jacob as he rolled his eyes at her effort before standing up and placing a sticky kiss on her cheek.


"I'll be back in a bit, Ma'," Jacob said reaching for his helmet.


"In time for dinner?" she asked, turning her attention to the newspaper. While she may have been growing accustomed to Jacob riding the bike, that didn't mean she enjoyed the sight of him pulling the helmet on.


Matt stared at Jacob, as did Joanne after her question went unanswered. Jacob, for his part, stood at the back of the chair he had just abandoned, looking very caught.


"You didn't tell her," Matt challenged with an amused smile.


"Tell me what?" Joanne asked, feeling out of the loop.


"There's a barbecue," Jacob shrugged a weak attempt to catch his mother up.


Matt playfully shook Jacob's offered answer away. "The firefighters put on a barbecue picnic every fourth," he clarified. "I'm sure it breaks all kinds of health codes, but it's good food and free."


"How very Mayberry," Joanne said with a smile, "but not having to cook sounds good to me. Where's this picnic at?"


"Grove Park," Jacob answered for Matt, proving he at least remembered where he was supposed to meet up with Matt after he finished his ride with Carlos. "Next to the Fire Station."


Joanne nodded, "So I guess I'll see you at the park later?" she asked.


"Yup," Jacob replied with a grin.


"Well," Matt said standing, "Thanks for the breakfast, Mom," Matt said, smiling at Joanne before flashing a quick glance at Jacob. "I have to go wake sleeping beauty," he continued, giving Joanne a reason for his departure.


Joanne just spared a small glance at the two before turning her attention back to the paper. "You can kiss him goodbye here," she said in passing as she began to read an article on firework safety. "No need to sneak off to the front porch to do that."


Matt's cheeks flushed at her blind observation, but he leaned in and tasted the orange on Jacob's lips despite his surge of modesty. Matt pulled back, relishing in the afterglow of the innocent action, thrilled at being able to kiss Jacob in front of one of their parents without fear of repercussions.


"I'll see ya in a bit," Jacob said giving Matt a tight squeeze that mutated into a lingering hug, happy that Matt finally allowed a kiss in front of his mother.


"At one," Matt reminded again as he pulled away from Jacob with a wink. "By the fire station." Matt continued while Joanne chuckled at the remark in the background.


"Ass," Jacob pointed out with a grin. "It's a good thing it's so damn cute," he finished with a wide smile.


Matt pushed Jacob away chuckling. "Jerk," he replied with a warm smile.


Laughing Matt's comment off, Jacob leaned in and delivered another fleeting kiss to Matt's soft lips, "Love ya, Kid," he said pulling away.


"I know," Matt answered with a self-assured smirk. Jacob's jaw dropped open, aghast at the lack of complimentary return on Matt's part. Shaking his head, he backed away, before sticking his tongue out at Matt as he turned and headed for the front door.


"One," Jacob yelled, just before the front door slammed behind him.


In the distant quiet of the holiday morning, the sound of the four-cylinder engine on Jacob's motorcycle roaring to life penetrated the insulated walls of the house with a throaty roar that rivaled the purring V-8 of Valerie's Mustang. Matt turned to say a final goodbye to Joanne, only to find her watching him with a content smile on her face, ignoring the paper she had found so interesting only moments before. He couldn't help the rush of blood he felt heating his cheeks under her gaze, or the way the heat intensified as its presence brought a jubilant giggle from his mother-in-law.


"What," he asked, looking out the back door then to the tops of his bare feet, sneaking peeks at Joanne beyond his brow.


"Nothing," Joanne played, trying to look back at her paper as if she didn't find their banter terribly cute. "You guys are just adorable together," she smiled feeling her own blush, and a tad envious of the emotions the two of them shared.


Matt stood there smiling with a wide delirious grin, loving the assessment Joanne had made of them as a couple, and not knowing how to counter the statement.


"Sleeping Beauty," Joanne reminded Matt after he stood there grinning for several moments.


"Right," Matt stumbled, looking around the kitchen as if he were forgetting something. "Shoes," he finally decided.


"You know where Jacob keeps his socks?" Joanne asked looking back down at the paper, sure that the way she was watching him was a tad disconcerting for him. "Don't worry about your clothes; I'll wash them and hang them in his closet, you can just pick them up later."


"Yeah," Matt stammered, a little shocked that Joanne could easily pick out a pair of jeans and T-shirt as belonging to Jacob and not him. Without further comment on the clothes issue, Matt rushed out of the kitchen and up the stairs to Jacob's room. He thought twice about leaving his boxers, as he plucked them from his pile of clothes and shoved those into his pants before grabbing a pair of socks out of the bottom drawer of Jacob's night stand.


Socks and shoes on, Matt bounded down the stairs hollering, "Bye, Ma," before rushing through the front door and across the street.

 


Carlos was sitting astride his bike outside of King's Auto Body as Jacob pulled up next to him, revving the motor of his bike for effect. Walking his bike forward, laughing off Jacob's show of power with a slight shake of his head, Carlos tossed what remained of his coffee into the trash, pulling his helmet on before Jacob had a chance to mess with the strap on his.


"Ready, Cupcake?" he asked, his eyes sparkling before he slid the visor of his helmet down, fired up his own bike, and took off with a jolt out of the parking lot.


A mischievous smile crept across Jacob's lips as he pulled out after Carlos. Their rides always started off this way, Carlos taking off like a bat out of hell, with Jacob not far behind moving at a much steadier pace. The fact that Carlos accepted his slower speed surprised Jacob, but Carlos had explained that he understood Jacob was just starting out, and with experience would come speed.

 


Matt sat on the leather couch in Valerie's house watching the local community access channel, reading the list of events scheduled as part of the Independence Day festivities. There was the parade, the picnic, live music by a laundry list of no-name or has-been bands, capped with an evening firework show put on by the local Rotary. He did notice one scheduled appearance that he had previously overlooked. The fact that he saw his last name on the screen shouldn't have been as surprising as Matt found it, it was a patriotic holiday after all, what better venue to stir up some campaign support.


"Ready?" Valerie asked, waltzing into the room and catching Matt unaware.


"Huh?" he asked shaking off the rush of conflicting thoughts running through his mind.


Valerie's head lulled to the side as she gazed at her friend curiously. "Ready?" she repeated, concerned that Matt was upset at something.


Aiming the remote at the TV, Matt pressed the power button, killing the TV's comforting glow with little effort. "Yeah," he answered. Valerie noticed the almost unperceivable troubled tone in his voice immediately. Not giving him a chance to stand she took a seat on the sofa, allowing the side of her body to press into his.


"Everything okay?" she asked, her brow furrowing as she looked at Matt.


Matt nodded. "He's going to be there," he grimaced.


Valerie needed no clarification as to 'he' was. "Don't worry about him," she assured sliding her arm over his shoulder. "Just worry about you, and make it the best Fourth of July it can be," she continued, smiling as she knocked her side into his, pulling an equal smile from him.

 


Jacob felt like a god, a modern day centaur, rocketing along serpentine canyon roads. At first ahead of Carlos, he eased off the accelerator allowing Carlos to shoot past him in a blur of metallic blue and shimmering black fading into the distance before rounding a corner and disappearing from sight. A small smile graced Jacob's lips, wondering if he appeared any bit the mythic creature he felt like.


Leaning into the final curve of Wild Oak road before it opened into a mile long straightaway, Jacob reached for the clutch lever ready to shift into a higher gear. The execution was almost artistic; ease off the throttle with the right hand; squeeze the clutch with the left, leaving the toe of the left foot to angle the shifter up. The brown, dull scenery flew by in a blur while the hot July air swept around him like the arms of a phoenix as the digital speedometer crept higher.


Gunning the throttle, Jacob tore into the straightaway, his eyes fixed on the spec that was Carlos, slowly growing as he closed the distance between them. Repeating the ballet of shifting gears, this time into fourth, Jacob twisted back on the throttle while leaning into the gas tank as the bike lurched forward under the additional power.


70mph and still steadily climbing, a quick glance at the digital speedometer revealed.


75mph; Jacob grinned pushing faster then he had previously ridden.


80mph; the power of fourth-gear meeting its threshold, the engine between his thighs whined for the release of another gear.


85mph; fifth gear offered, and faster yet, as Jacob leaned further forward, in effort to lessen the brute force of passing air assailing his body.


97mph; topped-out, at least for fifth gear and today, and the straightaway was quickly approaching its end before the road curled around the base of a small rolling hill.


Goal achieved, Jacob grinned inwardly, feeling a swell of pride at his accomplishment in mounting a plateau neither he, nor the bike, had crossed before. Sated, Jacob began the task of down-shifting, easing back on the throttle before moving down to fourth. As he was shifting down into fourth, Jacob ran through an unnoticed patch of loose dirt on the roadway, causing the bike to wobble as the rear wheel, affected by the torque of the downshift, slipped and lost traction. It all happened in an instant, one fleeting moment too much. Jacob's hand wrenched back on the throttle as the machine became unstable.


Horror raced through Jacob's mind unrestrained by the helmet he was wearing. Jacob wasn't naive enough to think he could manhandle the three hundred sixty five pounds of machine back into his control; all he could do was hold on and hope for the best as the bike buckled out from beneath him.


I'll slide, Jacob rationalized, I'll just slide...


His bike keeled over, colliding with the sun-bleached asphalt; pinning his left leg to the ground. The bike's momentum pulled itself, and Jacob, some five yards, sliding diagonally across the road before the spinning rear-wheel bit into the earthen verge, launching the bike, and Jacob along with it, into a chaotic tumble.


Jacob felt the scream racing from his lungs, but didn't hear a sound, as the earth and sky twisted around him in a sickening kaleidoscope of brown and blue. Panicked, Jacob tried to kick free of the bike as the stale voice of his old science teacher echoed through his mind, mocking him. 'A body in motion tends to stay in motion unless acted upon by outside forces. Every action results in an equal and opposite reaction


Free of the bike, Jacob tumbled and slid to rest under the low branches of a chaparral tree. The bike continued to tumble for another six yards, before -its energy spent- it landed in a cloud of dust. Then silence, not even the sounds of the breath he found suddenly hard to get enough of.


It all came back slowly, the numb fire he at first felt, melting slowly into a pulsing throb that raced through his entire body. A constriction on his chest forcing his shallow labored breaths, the sound of a panicked sea swirling inside his helmet, echoed by the pounding of his own heart. Wishing it all away and focusing on the sound of that distant, phantom sea, Jacob closed his eyes.

 


Carlos pulled to a stop, using the same turnaround he and Jacob had used thirty minutes earlier on their last run of Wild Oak road. He knew he had passed Jacob, leaving him to eat his dust and was primed to ask Jacob just how good it had tasted. When Jacob failed to arrive after a few moments, Carlos began to worry. Fearing the worst for his companion, Carlos fired up his bike and rode off in the direction he had just come, driving slowly and scanning the fields as he backtracked.

 


"My God," Jacob heard the unfamiliar voice shouting from somewhere above him. "Are you alright?" the voice continued to shout.


Jacob couldn't answer; he was too busy fighting with the buckle on his helmet. He was desperate to remove the device, hoping that if he did it would relieve the constriction on his lungs. The muffled sound of footsteps racing through the soft earth met Jacob's ears as he pushed his helmet off.


"Don't," the old man said, kneeling next to Jacob, trying to keep him still.


Jacob couldn't focus; his senses were coming in fits, refusing to operate at the same time; sound, smell, sight, and touch all fading in and out. His face felt wet, like he was sweating, but he felt too cold to sweat. Jacob looked up, acknowledging the man for the first time as he heard another set of footsteps rushing over.


"Jacob!" Carlos yelled, his bike forgotten, left to lie on its side on the road's shoulder.


Jacob struggled to answer the call, attempting to sit up, only to find the firm hand of the guy who was dressed like a rancher pressed on his shoulder. Jacob shuddered in pain at the touch, abandoning his struggle to get up. The rancher looked down at Jacob, his face a mixture of worry and regret.


"Just relax," the rancher said trying to comfort Jacob. "Christ," he continued turning his attention to the approaching Carlos. "Call 9-1-1," he shouted, sounding panicked.


Carlos stopped dead, seeing Jacob lying in the brush. Jacob's face was pale and devoid of color causing a sharper contrast against the vibrant red trickling from the corner of his mouth. Carlos was shell-shocked for a moment, looking on speechless.


"Call someone, damn it," the rancher shouted gruffly.


The rancher's words rocked Carlos from his trance and he scrambled through his pockets looking for his cell phone.

 


Jacob grasped at the rancher's rolled shirt-sleeve. Dismayed that removing his helmet hadn't relieved his struggle for air, Jacob was fighting the fear he found himself no longer able to deny. Jacob shook his head, rocking it from side to side on the soft dirt, as tears started to form in his eyes.


"Mahh..." Jacob gasped, but with every breath he exhaled, he found it harder and more impossible to inhale again as the tightness in his chest grew worse. Frustrated with the situation, and afraid of dying, Jacob beat the rancher's forearm helplessly, his eyes pleading with the rancher's.


"Shhh," the man cooed, smoothing Jacob's sweat sopped hair against his forehead. "It's gonna be alright," the dusty rancher croaked, "You're in good hands, Son, it's all gonna be just fine."


Jacob disagreed with a grimace. Squeezing more tears from his eyes, he balled his fist and pounded the rancher's arm again for lying to him. He just wanted to tell Matt he loved him. He wanted to tell him that more than anything, more than the struggle for the breath it would take to say.


"Just be still," the rancher cooed as Jacob continued to writhe in the soil.


Heading the rancher's words, Jacob focused on a mental picture of Matt instead of the pain that was screaming through his torso and limbs. In the distance was the faint wail of a siren, and as Jacob clenched a fist full of the rancher's shirt-sleeve, he knew he was going to miss holding Matt.

 


One o'clock had come and gone. People all around Matt were smiling, happily waving little American flags while various patriotic regalia graced their cheeks, painted on by a local woman who had set up a booth offering to paint the kiddies' cheeks with eagles and flags or fireworks, for a small price of course.


The high school marching band was loud, playing 'Stars and Stripes Forever' as they marched down the street in front of the city's first fire engine, which like the people who waved at the firemen and two dalmatians riding atop of it, was decked out in enough flags and bunting to make a political rally envious.


Matt paid little attention to the spectacle though; he was too busy looking over his shoulders, scanning the crowd for the one face he longed to see. Valerie had even gotten into the act of scoping the masses for Jacob, actively looking in the direction opposite of Matt.


"Maybe Jacob and his mom couldn't find us," Valerie insisted, abandoning her part in the search for Jacob.


Matt frowned at the dispersing crowds, just like every year the vintage fire engine ended the parade. He too had to admit defeat in the face of all these people, standing watching a parade was one thing. Trying to pick Jacob out of a sea of moving faces was something entirely different.


"I guess," Matt said, resigned to the fact that Jacob had missed the parade, "or, he's still out riding around with Carlos," he continued with a perturbed wince. "At any rate, he knows I'm going to be handing out watermelon pieces; maybe he'll show up there."


"Always count on a man finding food," Valerie grinned, knocking a smile out of Matt with her shoulder.


"You gonna come with?" Matt asked, hopeful.


"I was going to go check out the stage," Valerie answered, wary at Matt's impending reaction. Matt frowned, he knew who was supposed to be on the stage soon, and he couldn't understand why Valerie would want to go check it out.


"My dad is going to be up there soon," he took the chance to point out as he began walking in the direction of the fire station.


"I know," Valerie stated, "but I heard there was going to be some people there with signs protesting his stance on some issues, I just wanted to see how he took it," she finished with a grin.


"He's my dad, he's gonna concentrate on the good stuff and ignore the bad," Matt said. "You think you would know that by now." Valerie frowned at Matt's back as she watched him slink off into the crowd. With a sigh of resignation, she moved off in the opposite direction to cross the park where the stage was set up.

 


A play of red lights sweeping across brown brush, cool air swirling around his nose and mouth, the feeling of weightlessness as two men rushed around him. The sky was bright, then darkening suddenly as the gurney he was strapped to, was shuffled into the back of a waiting ambulance.


Jacob closed his eyes again, not wanting to look at the truth, not wanting to see these incoherent images as the last thing he would ever behold. He just wanted Matt, wanted him holding his hand, kissing his forehead. Even standing off to the side worried and crying. Not that Jacob wanted Matt to cry, anything but that. Jacob just wanted him to be close, knowing that if he was, Matt would be there holding his hand. To be able to touch Matt again, that would solve all the conflicting images, all the circular thoughts racing through his mind, just touching Matt, one last and final time.

 


'Porter for the People', the banner screamed in bold, blue-faced type. Richard Porter liked the new banner sign more than the fluorescent yellow with a dark blue background he had been using. He even like the addition of stars and stripes to the white background, figuring it all went rather well with the patriotic decorations littered around the park.


Valerie found that same banner quite revolting. If it was to be truthful, she figured it should read 'Porter for Himself'. Brendon and Adam laughed when she vocalized that thought, but they were now eagerly listening to Richard Porter talk about the sanctity of marriage, another thing Valerie found very hypocritical.


"Where's his sense of decency?" Brendon asked, shaking his head as Richard talked about endorsing a bill to ban gay marriage at the state level.


"He's just saying it's a state's rights issue," Adam pointed out, squeezing Brendon's hand for effect. Brendon didn't like that answer and ripped his hand from Adam's grasp.


"Wrong answer," Brendon warned.


As the two began to squabble, Valerie wondered just why she had been listening to Richard for as long as she had. Shaking her head at both the speaker and the set of squabbling lovers to her right, Valerie announced she was leaving.


"Bye, Valerie," Adam ventured looking distraught, hoping she would save him by dragging the two of them off away from the stage. She was about to suggest they all go grab some food when her cell phone began ringing.


"Hello?" she answered, without even looking at the Caller ID. "What?" she questioned, pushing a finger to her ear in effort to drown out Richard's voice blaring over the P.A. system. "Carlos?" she whimpered, the color draining from her face along with the pert smile she had so recently worn.


"Valerie?" Adam asked. He may not have hung around with her when they were in school but the distraught look on her face was easy enough for a complete stranger to read; even Brendon noticed it, giving up his sense of political incense with his boyfriend.


Valerie barely acknowledged Adam as she lowered the phone from her ear. Her mind racing with worry as a dull throbbing ache bloomed in her chest.


"Is everything okay?" Adam asked, reaching for her shoulder.


Valerie jerked back from Adam's touch. Shaking her head somberly, Valerie turned on her heel and began pushing her way through the thick crowd. Clear of the mob of people around the stage Valerie broke off into a run, seeking Matt.

 


Matt offered a litany of fake smiles in answer to the appreciative smiles he received as he placed triangular slices of watermelon onto proffered plates. There were the occasional boisterous thanks given by men who had been celebrating the holiday with a little too much liquid enthusiasm. To those, he just gave a slight nod and wished them a Happy Fourth as well. It was all a very robotic existence as he wondered and even worried about Jacob who still hadn't shown up.


His fake smile only disappeared as he spotted Valerie running up to him, her cell phone wrapped in a white-knuckled grip. She didn't need to vocalize the look that was on her face; Matt knew something bad had happened to Jacob the instant he saw it. Matt began to tremble slightly as she walked up to him, threatening his grip on the watermelon slice he held with a pair of tongs. He even stepped back in a subconscious attempt to avoid the words he knew he was about to hear.


"Matty," Valerie gasped, looking ill. "There's been an accident."


Matt stumbled back, shaking his head as the pink flesh of watermelon slipped from his grasp, landing with an inaudible thump on the trodden grass at his feet. The tongs he was using to serve up the fruit followed suit as Matt felt the world collapse upon him.


"Not Jacob," Matt croaked, shaking his head continuously.


Valerie might as well have ripped her heart out for all the good it did her, watching Matt's face contort in disbelief and pain. She wanted to, and if that's what it would take to get rid of the horrid reality Matt faced, she would.


"Matty, we have to go," she said, finding her own voice strangely alien. It sounded strong and in control, as if it knew what to do. Valerie didn't feel strong, there was little in the world she could control, and she certainly didn't know what to do. Numb, Matt nodded, crushing the slice of forgotten watermelon underfoot as he moved toward her.

 
 

Copyright © 2011 shadowgod; All Rights Reserved.
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 
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