Читать книгу Lasting Impressions - John Schlarbaum - Страница 4

"Do you know how dangerous those things are?" Sheila Atkins yelled from the porch step.

Jeremy could barely hear her above the roar of his new motorcycle. The look on her face wasn't one of joy.

"Mom, get a life," he called back. "I'm 19 and an upstanding citizen. Do you really think I'm going to ride through town like a maniac?"

"I don't want to see my baby get hurt, that's all," she replied, resigned to the fact she couldn't convince her son of the dangers of motorcycles. "I'll see you tomorrow after the conference. Your father and I are leaving in a few minutes."

The word "baby" made Jeremy cringe. Hopping on the motorcycle, he performed a wheelie for his less than appreciative mother and sped uptown. With the wind on his face and hot summer air being forced into his lungs, Jeremy couldn't wait to show off his new ride to his gang. This two-wheeled marvel would reaffirm what everyone already knew: Jeremy Atkins was the coolest.

In a town of 1300 residents, there were few stand-outs. Jeremy Atkins was one of those few. It helped that his father had been the Mayor of Lasting for 15 years and his mother was the principal of Lasting High School. Even though Jeremy would admit that a portion of his heightened status was attributed to his parents' stature, he was also aware he controlled his future. He'd pushed himself to achieve what those Army ads said every young man should strive for: Be all you can be.

At the age of eight he became a humble paperboy with a few dozen customers. When another courier quit, Jeremy immediately picked up the slack and the extra money. When he quit five years later, his daily route had quadrupled in size.

As the all star athlete in baseball and hockey, Jeremy Atkins' name became synonymous with winning. Along with the awards he reaped, he was also an honour roll student, proving to everyone he wasn't a dumb jock.

In his mind, whatever or whoever he touched would simply turn to gold. He had a sure fire plan that would see him become King of all he surveyed. No doubt about it, he was destined for greatness.

***

The three young men in the parking lot heard the motorcycle's engine several blocks away. As the noise drew louder, they each wondered what their self-appointed leader's new bike looked like and how fast it could go.

Jeremy came to a screeching halt in front of them and there was nodding approval of his new toy. Taking off his helmet, Jeremy waited for the accolades to begin.

"Nice wheels, Jeremy," Mark McWhinney spoke up. "Looks pricey. What did it cost your parents?"

"What's a few thousand to the Mayor of this town?" Jeremy replied, sliding comfortably into the centre of attention. He lived for these moments. "What about you, Frank? Does this beat that dirt bike of yours?"

Frank Taylor shifted from one foot to another appraising the bike. "It'd beat it on the highway but not out on the trails for very long." Frank gave a quick smile, but realizing no one had taken his joke the right way, he quickly elaborated on his review. "This bike wasn't meant for dirt trails though. It's got real class, Jeremy."

Frank hoped he had saved his hide by sucking up to Jeremy so quickly. Like the others, he knew his friendship with the most popular person in school existed on a daily basis. One day you could be his best buddy and the next you might be another face in the crowd.

"Thanks, Frank. I figured that's what you were trying to say." Jeremy turned to his last loyal subject. "How about you, Ed?"

Unlike Mark and Frank, Edward Belamy didn't get anxious in the presence of Jeremy Atkins. They had grown up on the same street and his father worked in Stuart Atkins' administration. Edward was Jeremy's only true comrade, if such a post existed. Popular in his own right, even Edward knew there were benefits to staying close to greatness.

"It does look like one fine motorcycle. If your father would give my old man a raise, I could get one too." He paused for effect, glancing at Frank before adding, "Of course, not the exact same bike. Maybe a size smaller than yours."

An amused look registered on Edward's face as Frank nodded silently, as if to say, You did good, Ed.

"It would have to be a lot smaller. I can hardly handle this one," Jeremy replied. He unclipped a second helmet from the seat. "Are you ready to take a spin, Ed?"

"Depends. Will you be on the bike at the same time?" Edward quickly shot a look at Frank, whose face paled noticeably.

Jeremy didn't reply to Edward's question, turning back to Mark instead. "Mark, do you think Ed is trying to be a smartass or was he born that way?"

"Definitely born that way," Mark replied without hesitation. "Affected by all those drugs his mother did when she was in high school."

"Not to mention all the guys," Jeremy joked.

"Ha, ha, ha," was all Edward said in his mother's defense, as his friends laughed. "Let's see what this thing can really do." Edward grabbed the helmet and climbed on the back half of the seat, as Jeremy pushed the ignition button.

Jeremy revved the engine a couple of times, then popped the clutch, giving Edward only a split second to grasp for something solid to hold onto. They squealed out of the parking lot, leaving Mark and Frank in a small cloud of dust.

Cruising out of town, Jeremy hollered at Edward, "So what do you think?"

"I think we should dump Frank as a friend."

"About the bike!"

"Oh, this?" Edward replied casually. "Not bad. How fast do you think it'll go?"

"Let's find out."

Even as their speed increased, Edward's enjoyment decreased. It wasn't that he didn't like travelling fast - that part was still exhilarating. The problem was one that had been creeping into his consciousness lately, involving his frustration with why Jeremy Atkins was perceived to be the only "Golden Boy" in town. Edward respected Jeremy's numerous accomplishments, but he was also growing tired of playing the role of second fiddle. A recent incident involving his last girlfriend and Jeremy hadn't helped matters.

"Things should change," Edward said, knowing Jeremy couldn't hear a word against the whistling wind. With this in mind, Edward glanced down at the retreating pavement and said aloud, "Someday, Jeremy, you'll be grovelling to be my shadow."

***

Twenty minutes had passed since Jeremy and Edward had departed on their mini road trip.

"Where did they go - Graceland?" Mark asked impatiently.

"I'm sure they'll be back soon. Then Jeremy will give us a ride," Frank replied, although even he was having doubts.

"Do you think Jeremy gives a damn about us sitting here, Frank?" Mark's tone reflected his growing annoyance. "By the time Jeremy thinks of us, we'll be old men." Mark stood and stretched. "Are you going to stay here all day?"

Frank looked down the street, thinking he'd heard the motorcycle. "At least a little while longer."

"I have better things to do than to wait for the triumphant reappearance of King Jeremy," Mark said.

Frank got to his feet and confronted Mark. "Are you jealous?"

Frank's voice carried an attitude Mark didn't care for. He met Frank's advance, grabbed him by the shirt and pushed him against a nearby brick wall.

"You may be pretty book smart in the classroom, but to Jeremy you were his meal ticket to pass calculus." Mark paused and laughed. "You didn't think Jeremy invited you to hang with us because you're so cool?"

Mark began to walk away. Frank was reeling from Mark being brutally truthful with him. He would concede that at first his "induction" into Jeremy's trusted inner circle was due to his academic prowess, and not any prominent personality traits he possessed. Still . . . the longer he spent with the guys, the more his initial misgivings dissipated. Now he didn't know how to respond.

"Why did you just say that?"

Turning, Mark said, "I only want you to see who you're keeping company with. I don't have any secret agenda."

Before Frank could reply, the sound of a motorbike came within earshot. "I told you Jeremy would come back," he said gleefully.

"Oh joy, oh bliss," Mark said. "He's come back to save us from ourselves!"

Frank paid no heed to Mark's antics. If only Jeremy knew what Mark really thought of him, he pondered. "So how was it, Ed?" Frank asked.

"Not bad," Edward said taking off his helmet, "I've never had bugs smash against my teeth at that speed before."

"How fast were you going?" Frank piped up.

"About 120, give or take 10," Jeremy replied smugly.

"Really?" Mark asked in disbelief.

"You have a problem with that?" Jeremy shot back.

"Cool off, Jer," Edward said.

Responding as if Edward had exceeded some line in their friendship, Jeremy tore the spare helmet from Edward's hand and restarted the bike.

"Look, I don't need any of you losers helping me to get ahead in life. If you don't believe what I say, fine. Just remember, it's my choice who I allow to hang around me."

Jeremy gunned the engine and fishtailed the bike out of the parking lot, while the others bickered amongst themselves.

"What a tool bag," Mark remarked. "What's got him so bent out of shape?"

"Couldn't tell you," Edward said.

"What did you talk about out there?" Frank commanded. "Did you say something that pissed him off?"

"You're only mad precious Jeremy didn't give you a ride," Mark jeered.

"Lay off him, Mark," Edward said looking toward Frank. "He's not worth it." Edward's facial expression became hard. "But for your information, Frank, I didn't say a damn thing to Jeremy. At that speed, you don't have time for any meaningful conversations. Obviously I'm speaking from personal experience." Edward looked away from Frank. "Now, if you ever get the chance to ride with Jeremy, you can give us your thoughts on the whole experience. Until then . . ."

Edward pivoted so quickly that Frank couldn't think fast enough to react. Edward's fist slammed into Frank's mid-section, doubling him over and leaving him gulping for air on the sidewalk.

". . . keep your mouth shut," Edward concluded, walking away.

Mark, knowing his loyalties might be questioned if he didn't leave now, glanced down at Frank's rumpled body before jogging up beside Edward.

Left alone to suffer, Frank's thoughts turned to revenge. "You two will regret this," he said under his breath.