Noise

I heard my mother’s voice calling me from somewhere down the hall. I’d been awake for a few minutes now but found the bed too comfortable to leave, so I decided to ignore her. My door opened and I rolled over in my bed, determined to keep my eyes shut and maintain the façade of still being asleep.

            No luck. I felt a tug on my sheets that exposed my bare body to the cooler air of the bedroom and I could feign slumber no more, I giving a shiver before I cracked open one eye to glare at my mother. “What’s wrong with you?” I croaked, displeased at being roused with such bluntness. “I was up late last night, let me sleep!”

            “Not this time,” my mother replied, her face absolutely beaming for reasons unknown. “Up you get, and hurry! I have something to show you. Quickly now!”

            With a groan, I forced myself to an upright position and gave myself a thorough shake, trying to rouse myself into the afternoon hours. “Mmf. It’s summer, Mom.”

            “Not for much longer- now get dressed and get in here!” Her voice was agitated now, the excitement that had been present losing place to her frustration with me.

            A few minutes later and I found myself in our worn-down kitchen, glaring at the heavyset woman that was my mother. She held a letter in her hand so tightly that it had begun to crumple, and she appeared to be trembling.

            For a moment, I found myself concerned. “Are you OK? They didn’t let Estevan out early or something-”

            “No, no, it’s for you!” she said, cutting through my words to swiftly alleviate my worries. “Oh, I’m so excited, I was hoping this would happen!”

            Now I felt more concern than before. “Was hoping what would happen?” I asked.

            Mom settled herself and took a breath, her smile now so wide that I thought she might crack. “Well, when you were finishing your sentence,” she began, “I was allowed to put your name into an education aid program from the city.”

            “A what?” I felt a sense of foreboding growing in my stomach as part of me began to guess what exactly she’d been doing during my time in jail.

            “It’s a program to help children who are considered at-risk. Like you!” she added, words so harsh it made me wonder if she’d purposefully added them in. “It allows you to register for a free scholarship to any school in the city-”

            “Mom, no-”

            “And you won!” she cried with glee. “Look, see for yourself!”

            I snatched the paper from her hands and began to read:

            Dear Marcos Reyes,

            Congratulations! You have been accepted into the Muhammad Ali Crisis Education Program for At-Risk Youth. Under this program, your educational record will now be transferred to one of several highly accredited schools within the Louisville Metro area, free of charge for you and your family. The school you have been selected to attend:

River City High School

            Further instructions for selecting your classes will arrive from your school shortly.

            It went on for the rest of the page, but I was already too angry to continue reading. I’d spent a month in juvenile detention and most of the last month simply lazing about the city while my probation period ended. I’d expected to get a call from my old buddies in Wanyama sometime soon, a chance to finally put my plans into fruition. Instead, I got a slap in the face from a mother who’d been working against me from behind my back!

            “Isn’t this exciting?” she asked, looking at my face and perhaps seeing my displeasure. “You’ll have a whole new set of opportunities, and a clean slate! It even says that if you finish the year with a 3.0 your criminal record will be discarded, isn’t that wonder-”

            “Yeah, whatever,” I cut through, tossing the letter into the nearby garbage can and turning to walk away. “It’s not like I’m gonna go, you know that.”

            My mother gave a gasp as though she’d been slapped across the face. “What did you say?”

            “Since when do I care about school, huh?” I asked, leaning down and taking a Gatorade from the fridge. “Come on, be honest now. Just let me drop out and move on to something else that’s actually worth my time.”

            “You’re going to care now, Marc!” she answered, her anger rising to match my own. “I have been trying to push you to do well for three years now, and I will not let you throw this opportunity away!”

            “Oh, bite me. Like I give a damn.”

            “Do not swear in front of me!”

            “Mom, let it go!” I roared, coming before her and trying to intimidate her out of this idiotic idea. “I don’t care, I don’t wanna go back to school, just let me drop out already!”

            “And end up on the streets, or right back in jail? Absolutely not!” she was shorter than me by a few good inches, but she met me with every bit of force she could muster. “You are going to go and you’re going to behave- and if you don’t show up, I’ll- I’ll- I will call the police on you myself!”

            It was a blow so low that I could have slapped her. “Are you for real? What is wrong with you, Mom? I’ll just go back to jail- enjoy having another family member in prison.” I slammed the fridge door shut so hard that I sent the appliance rocking back and forth, and I turned to stalk out of our dingy kitchen. I would have made it to my room just fine if I hadn’t heard her begin to sniffle; against my better judgement, I crept back into the kitchen to see fat tears running down my mother’s despairing face. “Umm… look, I’m- that was too far.”

            “I know it’s been hard. Even though you won’t admit it, it’s been hard,” she said, her voice thick as the tears threatened to overwhelm her. “I just want you to do the right thing, and I know you’ve got so many other things pulling you left and right. But this is your chance, mijo! Please take this and really try- for me? I think after all that’s happened this year, you owe me that.”

            I’d been put dead to rights and she knew it. I couldn’t think of a way to get out of this one, though I certainly wanted to. I’d been avoided her, Manny, and everyone that had admonished me for a good while now. Mom said I’d been dealt a bad hand? Hers was far worse; I really did owe her this one.

            “I’ll do it,” I said weakly.

            She stopped her sniffling and stared at me with bleary eyes that suggested she didn’t really believe me. “What?”

            “I’ll go, if that makes you happy,” I said, a small idea beginning to form in my brain. “I promise.”

            I immediately found myself in a bone-cracking hug as my mother fawned over me, fussing about all the things I’d be able to see and do. While she let her mind flow through all the preparation she swore I’d need to do, I found myself thinking of a much bigger problem that I would have to deal with.

            Someone else would not be happy about this.

---

            “You what?”

            I knew the reaction had been coming from the moment I’d relented to my mother. After she’d left for a late-night shift cleaning offices downtown, I’d done my best to get in contact with my old buddies from Wanyama, telling them there’d been an ‘issue’ that had come up. Soon as I’d been able to manage, I found myself in front a mountainous man with a thick, greying beard who now looked down upon me with furious disbelief.

            “What was I supposed to do, huh?” I told him, not willing to back down now. “She’s my mom, I think I owe her a bit of a break from Wanyama busting her family’s balls.”

            Ombi, however, was not having any of it. “Your father tried to push her out of the way because she kept causing problems, that’s what you should try yourself-”

            It was the wrong person to mention. “I owe that asshole a good punch in the teeth and that’s it. I hope that shithead rots forever and you can go to hell for mentioning him!” Hearing him brought up at all was cause for anger; suggesting my oldest enemy was someone to emulate was enraging.

            “You owe loyalty to Wanyama, not some fat fence-jumper!” Ombi replied. “Now you find a way to fix this or else I’ll make life hell-”

            “Try it! I’ll break your damn bones like I did to every one of those Rat King assholes!” I snarled, shoving the table separating us aside, coming right before him. I was several years his junior, and a few good inches shorter- but anyone who knew my name knew I could fight. “I’m the best guy Wanyama’s got and you damn well know it. You really wanna lose me?”

            I’d put Ombi in a spot. Most of our entire sector was there watching it play out, even the drug runners that had stopped by having paused to view the scene. Either Ombi was going to have to get into a fistfight he knew he wouldn’t win, or have someone kill his best worker. Every drop of sweat I saw on his brow was noticed by every pair of eyes in the room.

            After a time, he gave a sigh and relented. “You better have some kind of plan to explain this bullshit,” he grumbled. “If I have to tell Jester why one of his guys is suddenly off on his own without a good reason, they’ll kill me.”

            “We’ve never made it far into the east end of town, right?” I said, hoping I wouldn’t go off script even once. “I go in as a drug runner and start making a new market. A bunch of rich kids or whatever preppy bullshit they do is gonna be one damn big pile of cash. Give me time to lay the groundwork and then I go in to start selling- boom. Easy money, no competition, and no cops on the lookout for it.”

            “You were better as my muscle, even as a kid.”

            “And I can be that there, too,” I suggested. “Come on, Ombi, think about it; brand new section of Wanyama under your call, all that money moving under your name. Can you really throw it away?”

            He was seriously considering buying this. I knew I was good with words, but this was something exceptional. Either Ombi had become extremely greedy during my absence or he was desperate to regain his reputation- maybe both.

            “And you don’t know the name of this school at all?” he asked.

            “She wouldn’t even let me read it for myself,” I bluffed. “I won’t know until I go. And when I do, I’ll get to work just like always. This is me, remember?”

            Every inch of his face that I could see was covered in scars and faded marks; Ombi was one of Wanyama’s oldest members, having been there when Jester had taken control long before I was born. Despite all the effort he’d given, not once had he been brought into the inner circle, and it was something that gnawed at him relentlessly. My recent skirmishes earlier in the year hadn’t helped- but now here I was, offering him a chance at redemption and so much more.

            “One chance,” he murmured, staring me dead in the eyes with a cold, hardened fury. “One chance to prove yourself. If you make any mistake, or let your dumb ass get caught by the pigs? Dead. Dead, and I’ll find out where you live so I can throw your severed head in your mother’s lap.”

            I smiled; he’d bought it. He didn’t know I’d lied to him, or just what I was really hoping to do. Ever since I’d been sitting in jail, a plan had been forming in my mind; Wanyama was starting to get aggressive again, and I wanted a way out. If I played my cards right, I could rob them blind and finally buy my way out of this city for good. It was the perfect plan, and my Mom’s stupidity had given me the perfect stroke of luck.

            “I’ll raise hell in that school,” I replied, the slight quiver in my voice trying to betray me. “They won’t even see me coming.”

---

Two weeks passed in relative peace. If Mom or Wanyama suspected anything of my actual plans, nothing was said of it. Perhaps it was suspicious that I didn’t try to continue protesting against my mother’s wishes, but I let her continue to be all sorts of excited about my transfer. While she continued to harp on about details and all the ‘academic opportunities’ I’d receive, I spent my time planning: what kind of people to look for, who I’d need to intimidate or that I would need to recruit; what drugs to begin selling right at the start, and –most importantly- how to keep the police off my back. Wanyama was too far away for me to worry and they didn’t know where I was going- if I could keep it that way, my hopes at starting my own empire were going to be fruitful.

            Unfortunately, my planning continued to be interrupted by Mom’s own actions. What little money she had set aside suddenly was thrust into her purse as we went out to the nearby mall and I found myself forced into an endless cascade of new clothes that I had absolutely no willingness to take.

            “Mom, are you kidding? We barely have any money at all!” I said as she forced me to try on yet another pair of jeans. “You don’t think this is a little much?”

            “You’re going to be around a whole school full of new people,” she said, thrusting it into my hands. “You need to make a good impression and nice clothes are important. So try this on and see if they fit!”

            I wanted to argue, but her eyes flashed with fire. I took them and eventually let her pay for it, but I felt guilty nevertheless. I made a mental note that if while I was busy with my own efforts, I would need to set aside some for her as well.

            When the day finally arrived, I found myself forcefully awakened by my overeager parent, who rushed me out the door and into our beat-up Chrysler van, fighting her way through traffic with a sort of vengeance that I’d only seen in Wanyama’s most violent killers. She was absolutely determined to see me to this place.

            “Look at this place!” she practically whispered as we came into sight of the campus, her eyes wide. “I’ve never seen a school this nice before.”

            I didn’t say much, letting her enjoy the moment. It was a fairly average place, but well-kept and free of the ever-present dinginess that seemed to permeate the west end everywhere you went. Already it was packed and crawling with people, buses driving beside rows upon rows of cars as students came forward in a great throng. It was more people than I’d seen in a long time, and the type of organized chaos I hadn’t seen since before I’d gone to prison.

            “You know, if you wanted a whole ‘good impression’ thing to be pulled off, I think we’d need a better car,” I remarked, looking at the freshly-cleaned vehicle ahead of us with envy; not old, not brand-new, but infinitely better than what I was used to seeing. “Jeez, bunch of rich white cracker bullshit-”

            “LANGUAGE!” she shrieked, swiping at me with her purse before I could even turn my head around to face her. “Remember, you have every chance to make good impressions here- so make the effort!”

            “And giving me a concussion helps?”

            “You need to watch your mouth. That is not a suggestion, people don’t like to hear talk like that every second!”

            “OK, OK, jeez!” I relented. “You could have just let me come here on my own, you know. I can do that.”

            One look was all it took to let me know that she didn’t believe me in the slightest; I didn’t blame her for that.

            “You need to get going, mijo,” she said, practically pushing me out the passenger door. “There should be someone looking for you to arrive-”

            “And they’ll know me how?”

            “So be nice when you meet them! Use your bus pass to get back home once you’re done, I’ll be working late again tonight!” Without another word she sped off, giving me a smile and wave that felt more like a death sentence.

With a sigh that could have weighed a ton, I at last turned and took in the place that would be the birthplace of my empire; a classically-styled building, and seemingly full of fairly well-to-do kids from across the east end. It would be a culture clash unlike anything I’d really dealt with yet, and I wondered how difficult it would be to lure people in. I figured a small drug market would already be here in some shape or form, so I’d need to tempt people with something harder. But how to do it without pushing people out? It was a delicate balance-”

“Hey! Hey, Marcos- over here!”

The fact that someone had said my first name in its entirety was enough to actually pull me out of my thoughts and put me into some form of shock. I looked around wildly, wondering if I’d been tracked by somebody in Wanyama-

“Here! To your left!” My eyes finally found them as a frantic waving from a somewhat plump, bright-faced girl with extremely frizzy hair, standing next to a tall blonde with a long, braided ponytail, both of them looking at me expectantly. “Come on, we won’t bite- I promise!”

I wasn’t going to find a way out of this now. Bracing myself, I wandered over towards the two girls and prayed that this wouldn’t go south too quickly.

“Hey, Marcos, right?” the taller of the two asked.

“Just Marc,” I replied swiftly, hating the sound of it.

“Well- Marc it is, then,” she said, offering a handshake that had more strength than I’d expected. “My name’s Annie Jean, but everyone just calls me Annie- or AJ, if that’s your sort of thing. It’s nice to meet you.”

“And I’m Maddie! It’s great to meet you!” the frizzy-haired girl threw her arms around me in a hug that I in no way welcomed, my body immediately tensing. “We heard you were coming just a couple weeks ago and when Annie and I got asked to help you get settled in I got so excited and I couldn’t wait to see you and now you’re here!”

Don’t want, don’t want, don’t want-

“Maddie, relax! Take it easy, girl, he just got here!” Annie said, helping me get untangled from the excessive frizz. “Sorry, she’s a bit touchy-feely. Hope you don’t mind too much.”

“Um, uh- sure,” was all I could manage.

“Well, no point standing around out here. Come on, we’ll show you around,” Annie said. “I hope it’s not too much of a culture shock for you to be here. You’re a transfer from the west end, right?”

Well, it seemed like I had mystique on my side. “Yeah. Been going to San Marino for the past three years.”

“Ooh! Ooh! I’ve heard of that place! Isn’t that the school where that big fight happened earlier this year?” Maddie asked.

She couldn’t have known that I started that fight, and I found it best to avoid her gaze, mumbling something about not remembering much about it. It was a horrible response and I clearly came away looking responsible for it, but I couldn’t think of anything better; I blew it.

“Well, hope it’s a little more peaceful here for you. I know it’s different, but we’ll try our best to make it be a little easier.”

I shrugged, really more interested in what sort of underground I could discover. “Well… I guess.” I took a look at my schedule and knew I’d need to show up sooner rather than later if I hoped to be rid of these two nuisances. “So, I’ve got an early Chem class…”

“Oh, I’m sorry! I got all distracted with talkin’ that I didn’t even think of it!” Annie cried, looking genuinely distressed at her misstep. “You’ll be second floor, I’ll take you there- come on!”

I gave a muted snarl and simply resigned myself to the experience, following close behind the two girls as they showed me through the halls, only to find ourselves coming to a complete halt.

“Is she already trying to start a fight?” Maddie said aloud, her overly cheerful voice suddenly dropping. “It’s the first day back!”

“She and Charlotte don’t miss a beat,” Annie muttered, turning to me. “Come on, we’ll try to go around, just keep your head down.”

Curious, I followed their lead but found myself leaning over the crowd of spectators to see a pair of girls facing off, glaring daggers at one another and spewing absolute hatred at one another. Both of them seemed absolutely intent on having the last word and neither was willing to give up ground.

“This is what you’ve been looking forward to all summer, isn’t it, you miserable little witch?” said the taller of the two, a dark-haired girl with an accent I couldn’t quite place. “Just couldn’t wait to get back just so you could make everyone’s life hell!”

“It’s better than nothing- and it’s a whole lot better than you trying to ask Mommy again to finally take you back!” said the other, a girl with crimson-red hair that seemed to shimmer. “Left to a whole other country just to get away from you!”

There was an intake of breath and the crowd drew back, watching the dark-haired girl for a reaction. I saw no tears fall but she relented, turning away and yelling, “You can just go to hell!”

“Yeah, and I’ll see you there with me!” the red-haired girl called after her, glaring daggers at the crowd until they at last began to disperse, each of them filtering away with some excuse or another, though every single one of them whispered some kind of insult to her as they walked by.

“Skank.”

“Stuck-up bitch.”

“You’re such an ass, Dawn.”

She had an answer for every single one of them, battling them all away until at last she stood alone- save for me, who had been enjoying the show from a relatively peaceful distance. Her eyes narrowed as she found someone she didn’t recognize. “And what are you looking at?”