Chapter Text
Jonas checked his phone for the dozenth time. No messages, no calls, no service, no nothing. He sighed and slipped it into his back pocket once more. He stood up from the railing looking over the dance floor. At least a hundred people thrashed and jumped and flailed at each other, dark shapes floundering in the surf of a mosh pit that ebbed and flowed under the harsh stage lights. The band played hard and fast, with every riff and scream of the vocalist the tide of the room rose and sank.
It didn’t appeal to him, honestly. Once upon a time, maybe, but you see enough gutter trash threaten the peace of your neighborhood, bury enough parents, it all sorta lost its charm. He snorted at himself. Even he could acknowledge how bloated and jaded his opinion had become.
Opposite the stage, near the bar, a light caught his attention.
A blue beacon in the pulsating morass of can lights and strobe effects. It hung like a candle in a hazy room, far off and faint. But something about it…
Jonas stepped away from his lonely roost on the peripheral. He pushed past groups, dodged loners, ducked under camera flashes, and made his way to the bar.
No matter how close he got the blue light seemed to be ten steps ahead, the person was already leaving.
Jonas flagged the bartender and asked who that person was, but they didn’t know. He pushed past someone who yelled at his rough evasion and a dozen pairs of red, glowing eyes turned on him. No one stopped him, though.
He took off into a sprint, desperate to close the gap between the one true light in this place. Almost, almost, almost.
He reached for their arm. “Wait, don’t go!” The band roared and the crowd screamed, drowning out his voice. His hand passed right through them.
Suddenly they were a hundred feet away at the exit. They seemed to look over their shoulder at him, seemed to… say something. The blue light flashed into an orb and… evaporated. The door slammed shut, the EXIT sign blasting bright red and melting the wall to nothing.
A car crashe d through the roof, plow ed through people and walls alike, and the cymbals crash ed again and again and again t o a deafening crescendo . A comical explosion of debris and lights pulverized every scrap of the world before it sank deep into a suffocating ocean of darkness .
Jonas land ed on the floor of his bedroom tangled in sheets, screaming. He scramble d onto his back as his head whipped back and forth, looking, checking every dark corner and crevice of his attic bedroom for the threat, the terror, the dark death to jump straight for him . The sweat dripping from his face collected on his shaking hand as he wiped it down, considered in a moment’s futility to smother his own shameful gasping breath. Nothing, though, nobody, nothing, just…
A car horn blas ted outside of his open window. Far off in the moonlight it hammer ed on again and again and the blood in Jonas’ veins turn ed to magma . In a split second Jonas leap t up, grab bed a water glass off of his nightstand and hurl ed it at the headlights somewhere down the street.
Glass shattered, someone howled a laugh.
Jonas fell down, against the bed, rocking on the floor. His hands sheltered his face as a breeze came in to chill the sweat on his bare chest. He knew his breathing would calm down again, it was just a matter of time.
Just a damn shame he had to sit here, awake, with his thoughts, until it did.
“I left the ten mil here on the mat for you, Jonas.”
“Thanks dad.”
“Do you want the breaker bar for that nut?”
“Nah, dad, it’s fine. I just need to change my angle a bit.”
“Right, right.”
Jonas kicked and spun on his back, rotating his body under the rear end of the truck. He squinted as dust sprinkled down upon his oil-smeared face from the undercarriage. It never failed, as soon as you put so much as a finger under a car the bottom would shed dirt like a mangy cat shed fur.
His hands found the locknut again, and he slipped the socket over it. The faint tap of metal on metal confirmed what his fingers told him, that it couldn’t get any deeper over the stubborn bolt head. Go time.
Jonas lined his limbs up, cradling his arms between his bent knees. All that was left was the effort.
He heaved, pulling back on the wrench with every muscle in his body working in strenuous unison.
Metal groaned.
Spit flew, Jonas sucking in air through his clenched teeth forced shut by exertion. His left foot shot up to kick against the bumper for some, any, extra leverage.
CLANG
The wrench broke free.
The end of it found its way into his gut and he roared a curse.
“Hey, woah! It’s alright bud!”
“Nnnggghh- yeah! Yeah, dad, I know! I know…”
Jonas’ fingers searched the floor around him, the space too cramped for him to turn and look properly.
“Got it? I can grab you another.”
“I got it, dad! Just gimme a second!”
“Alright! I’m just trying to help!”
“I don’t need help right now, dad, I just need a second— got it!”
His pinky tapped the metal end of the wrench and he snatched it up.
Again. Again, he’d get it this time. He rushed the tool back in the space under the fender and rattled the point of contact, trying again and again to get it seated.
“Take your time, bud, you’ll get it.”
“That’s the plan, dad!”
“Testy today, aren’t we? What’s got you so hot under the collar?”
The socket seated as Jonas listened to his dad’s words. He closed his eyes and dropped his head against the relatively chilly concrete beneath him.
“I just… didn’t sleep so well last night.”
“Nightmares again?”
“N-no, just, some jackass honking a horn Sounded like a parry wrapping up down the block.”
“Well if you closed your windows that would stop bugging you, but…”
“It gets warm up there, it’s the top of the house. Where else is all the heat gonna go? Even in the middle of winter.”
Jonas’ dad sighed. “Ehhh… well, I’ll talk to Gina about letting you move into the sewing room, maybe—“
“No! No, I mean, I— I like the attic. And I don’t wanna go being a pain in the ass to Gina.”
“I don’t think she’d see it that way, but… hey, alright. Guess we’ll just figure things out as we go.”
Jonas focused on the wrench again, eager to move on. This time he crowned the back of the wrench with his fingers of his off hand to guarantee it would stay seated. It cost him some strength, but he almost had it, now.
He braced his foot against the bumper and heaved against the wrench’s handle. The muscles of his right arm bulged, veins popping from his skin and sweat beading instantly. He roared in defiance of stubborn machinery and felt every muscle in his body sizzle with exertion.
THUNK
Rattling metal told the whole garage of his success, from the springbolt falling out of the leafspring hangar to the wrench popping out of Jonas’ oil-black hands again.
Jonas couldn’t help but laugh as he flopped against the cool concrete floor, letting the catharsis wash through his nerves.
His dad joined his laughter. “Awright! Nice job! That damn thing has been holding me up all morning!” The older man grunted as he squatted down next to Jonas to admire his son’s handiwork. “Made it look easy, I say.”
“Hah! Yeah maybe from where you’re standing. How ‘bout you come down here and do more than watch next time, dad.” Jonas slid himself out from under the truck’s bed, catching his breath on the way. “Where’s that water at?”
“Right here.” His dad scooped the bottle up from the workbench next to them as Jonas pushed himself up to standing. “Can get ya another if you want.”
Jonas shook his head as he drank before wiping his mouth against the back of his bare arm.
“I’m gonna go tell Gina not to cancel lunch, then. We can lay the new parts out afterwards. Sure you don’t want to come with? Real good sandwiches at this place.”
Jonas shook his head once more as he tugged the sweat-soaked sleeveless shirt away from his chest, not that it helped much in the sweltering garage. He pushed his fingers through his brown hair to keep it from his eyes and it bought him just enough time to generate the most basic excuse.
“Nah, it’s alright. Just gonna go for a walk or something.”
A shadowed grimace played hell with the growing wrinkles on his dad’s face.
“You sure you’re doin’ alright, bud?”
Jonas laughed as he glanced away. “Yeah, I’m fine dad. Just not hungry right now.” He tightened the knotted sleeves of his turned-down coveralls around his waist. “And walking helps me think of what I need to write for English. See, I’ve got another paper to finish, and… y’know…”
“Sure. Sure…”
Jonas met his gaze. “Really dad, I’m alright. There’s nothin’ to worry ‘bout.”
“I know, I know! I’m not worried about you, just… well, okay, maybe I’m a little bit worried.”
Jonas rolled his eyes as he finished another gulp of water. “Any particular reason? I haven’t made it back to juvie yet.”
His dad raised his hands to dispel the notion. “ Geez, don’t say yet. But yeah, you’ve been doing great, bud . I’m glad. ”
He walked past Jonas to the open garage door where he looked out upon their sun-soaked suburban utopia. Jonas followed out of obligation to his obtuse sense of filial piety.
“Glad, huh?”
“Yeah, glad, okay? So when somethin’ seems off I wanna take care of it. What woke you up last night?”
“I told you dad, it was just some asshole and his friends making noise with their car.”
They shared an uneasy look, standing in the mouth of the garage. Jonas knew better, knew that his dad was perfectly familiar with what it sounded like when Jonas woke up from a bad dream. No, worse than a bad dream. A nightmare, of certain kind and kin to a past they shared. They also both knew, however, to let that sleeping dog lie and let the recent past mend on its own for the time being.
His dad grunted. “ Well, anyways. How’s your friends doing? They busy today? Go see a movie or something.”
“Ren’s already seeing a movie, I think he’s got a date. Everyone else is busy.”
“Doing what?”
“I dunno! Just, busy, y’know?”
“Alright, alright…” Jonas’s dad fanned his t-shirt to alleviate the heat of an unseasonably warm day. “I’m… not saying you gotta go jump into a mosh pit or fall into a drug den or something, but… Just… I know it’s lonely enough for you in this house, just don’t let yourself be lonely out there, too. I watched that happen to yer uncle, and now he collects stuffed animals in his basement.”
Jonas laughed, leaning against the truck’s tailgate as he crossed his arms. “Uncle Earl sells those things on Ebay for like, boat loads of money, dad. You’d know if you called him outside of Thanksgiving. And besides, everyone’s got a hobby.”
“It don’t seem right, I tell ya. They made that, what was it, the bean baby for Princess Diana and it’s the most sought after one they ever had. That’s sick, people are sick for that if you ask me.”
“It’s just rare dad, it’s doing its job being rare as a collectible, y’know?”
His dad scoffed. “Anyways, anyways. Go do your thing, son. I’m gonna wash up and change.”
“Sure dad. I… maybe I’ll text you, have you grab me a sandwich.”
Jonas’ dad looked up at him, a glimmer in his eye. He smiled.
“Sure thing, bud. Just let me know.”
Jonas finished the last of his water as he thumped up the stairs to the second floor. The bottle flattened between his calloused hands and he slipped it into his pocket to throw away later.
He glanced out of the landing windows to see red leaves cutting their shapes against their more vibrant orange and yellow contemporaries. The irony of cooling weather causing trees to take on the colors of flames always tickled Jonas. Hell, maybe that would be a good topic to write about.
A shadow caught his eye, but not outside the window.
He slowly turned to his left. The door to the unlit sewing room beckoned him. Something had moved, Jonas swore he saw it. But the courage to investigate, no, he couldn’t see that .
“Need something sweetie?”
“Gah!” Jonas’ arms went vertical. He turned to see his stepmom trundling up the stairs with a hamper, her steps silenced by the padded socks she always wore inside on cold days.
“Oh, I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to startle you!” She fought not to laugh and Jonas silently indebted himself to her for the infectious humor.
“It’s alright, I was the one zoned out here. Just, y’know, thinking of stuff to write.”
“Who’s your english teacher again? Mr Zaphron? Tell that old geezer to lighten up, he was just as strict when I had him.”
“You had him, too? I thought he was old but— ahhh I mean, well, not saying you’re uh— I mean, nevermind. Shutting up now.”
“Don’t worry dear, I know what you mean. I thought for sure he was cooling off when Michael had him. Hm… actually, I don’t think Michael did have him, because he was in AP…” Jonas’ stepmom turned and looked into the sewing room. “Well… I… must be thinking of you, then. I’m sure we talked about it before and I’m just misremembering.”
They both stared into the vacant shadows of the doorway.
Jonas nodded ever so slightly. “Yeah. Must just be misremembering.”