Short Story (another one)

Kevin Yi 11/28/07
Class 9-8 Ms. Refkin
Alcohol Leads to Broken Hearts
“Hello Mr. Woner.” No response. “Mr. Woner, please stop sleeping in my class!” Joe woke up with a dazed look and stared at his teacher with a look of confusion. As he looked around, he noticed all of his fellow students looking at him and some even snickering. “Mr. Woner, this is the last time you’ve been caught sleeping in my class, go to the principal’s office right now and explain yourself! I cannot tolerate your behavior in my class any longer!.” Joe shrugged and slowly started walking out of the classroom. ‘My life is dull, what is there to do…’was his thought as he walked past the principal’s office and toward the school doors. He had been there too many times to care anymore; even his parents had given up any type of expectations for him. Joe was tall and a bit muscular, despite his hobbies of sleeping and staring at the sky for long hours. He wore a pair of torn jeans, a dirty white t-shirt, and a light black jacket over it, and had a shaved head. He was from a moderately wealthy family that was strictly Catholic and full of morals, but Joe did not feel the grace of God or the Mother Mary as he was growing up. He wandered away from his family as he entered high school, preferring to stay outside and find something to do. He rarely talked to his parents, and it was often because of a call from the school, an attempt to change Joe’s religious views, or both. Joe was an outcast from even his little brother Stewie, who was completely determined to become a priest in the Roman Catholic Church. As Joe looked out onto the courtyard, thoughts of boredom and sleep filled his mind. The sun was shining on the grand oak trees guarding the tiny trail to the school doors, and the gates of the school looked imposing and foreboding, giving the many students that walked in a bright and cheery beginning to a great day at school. After taking in a deep breath, he simply thought, “Time for another day of school, eh” and he walked toward the benches near the gate, to lie down, and slowly dozed off under the warm sun.
Three hours later. “Yo Joe!” Joe shifted toward the other side of the bench, determined to stay in his dreams. “Joe, wake up! School’s over!” Joe muttered something along the lines of, “What the hell…” as he slowly got up to his feet and rubbed his eyes. He awoke to see Peter blocking the sun and looking down on him. Peter was a tall and wiry kid in his class that he had known since the 1st grade. Peter was one of the richest kids in school who lived in the most expensive neighborhood in Chicago, but he was considered a geek and a loser due to his straight A’s, very unfashionable clothes (On this particular day, he was wearing a green and orange striped t-shirt with khakis and sandals), and his habit of licking a mole above his mouth whenever he was nervous or scared. Joe got up and calmly started walking out of the courtyard, completely ignoring Peter, while Peter ran up and began to walk with him. “You know… Principal Goldberg came to class asking about you. You’re so stupid man! Why did you come here instead of coming to see her? She’s going to call your parents.” Joe stopped and looked at him with dull and lifeless eyes, as if Peter was just another annoyance to be dealt with in his life. He responded, “I really couldn’t care less, dude. My parents will just yell at me for being a bad son and it’ll be over by the next deal. They wouldn’t kick me out, my dad will just pay for them to keep me in school. They really can’t do anything.”
Peter looked at him with a quizzical face for about a minute, and suddenly, with a burst of energy, asked; “Yo Joe you want to go get some alcohol? I got a fake ID the other day and that seedy liquor store on Shell Street, Sing’s, will accept any ID. You wanna go get some?” Joe raised his eyebrow, seeming slightly amused at Peter’s attempt to be cool. Although he wasn’t exactly a person of good morals, he had seen some kids in his class that came to class drunk and looked completely out of it. He thought that drinking was stupid and made a person become a huge idiot. But as he thought of the impending doom that was boredom for the entire day, he changed his mind. Besides, there was nothing else to do was there? “Yeah yeah sure, let’s go.” Peter looked at Joe with wide eyes and with a burst of energy said, “Alright!”
They started the walk down to the liquor store, the sidewalk of their suburban town was empty and in ruins. There were huge amounts of garbage on either side of them, the strong scent of alcohol and cigarettes filled the air, and they noticed a rat on the side that was chewing on what seemed to be a remnant of a cigarette box. Across the street, they noticed tough thugs from different ethnic gangs around the city huddled in large groups at the street corner and on top of strangers’ cars, smoking weed and giving them unwelcoming glances. Joe seemed completely unfazed at the things around him and kept a placid face on, but had a clenched fist with a pocketknife concealed in his jacket, something he always kept on his person since a run-in with one of the thugs earlier in the year. Peter, on the other hand looked scared and regretted ever coming up with the idea to enter this dangerous area of town. His palms were sweaty and his legs trembled as he walked very closely with Joe. Finally, they found the liquor store at the corner of Shell and 34th.
The store had its windows boarded up, due to various gang fights in the area nearly destroying the store 5 times in the past month, and the huge red sign that once said Sing’s was faded and had bullet holes in it, causing the g in the name to fall off. Joe walked up to the store and opened the door. Peter was still standing a short distance and asked Joe, “Hey Joe, are you sure you want to come? We can always come back another day, I don’t think that my fake ID can pass this…” Joe gave him a stare and said, “What.” In the most dangerously calm way possible. Peter gave a weak grin and said “Nothing.” and slowly walked into the store. As they opened the well-padded wooden door into the store, they met the strong smell of tobacco and hard liquor. Peter began to cough at a rapid rate and soon his face turned completely red. Joe wasn’t affected at all, due to the thugs in the park that smoked a lot while playing basketball, rolled his eyes and started walking through the aisles. The wooden floor creaked with every step and the variety was very large for a store of its size and short-comings in money. While Peter was busy leaning against the wall trying to reach his asthma pump while coughing, Joe looked for a good drink. He saw the expensive whiskey that cost over a hundred dollars, and the cheap 20mL one’s that you could keep in your pocket easily. Finally, after much consideration over the pure alcohol content and debating whether or not this type of liquor would harm him, he selected a small bottle of Simon’s Happy Caribbean Lemonade and walked back to the counter. Peter was just getting over his fit, and walked up to Joe. “Did you find a good one?” Peter whispered. Joe simply said, “Yeah, yeah let’s hurry up man.” Peter eagerly took out his ID and presented it to the cashier. The cashier was a lanky young Indian man who looked like he had just taken a dosage of cocaine, and had very droopy red eyes and a dirty traditional Indian robe on. He took a quick glance at it while he slowly charged Peter for it and gave back change. Peter could barely keep his hands still as he walked out the store, and Joe followed quietly.
Outside, Peter opened the bag. Joe and Peter both looked at it very solemnly for a minute, almost thinking about the consequences that they would go through after drinking. Joe then reached for the bottle, opened it, and took a deep gulp of it through the mouth. After swallowing, Joe simply yelled, “Oh damn!” and fell face flat on the ground. Peter frantically went on the ground and turned over Joe’s body, who was in a Christlike pose. Desperately trying to wake up Joe, he was crying as he tried to shake him and put CPR on him. “No Joe, you can’t go! You’re one of the only friends I have! Joe!” He was crying very hard as he called his private limousine to come and get him. At hearing where he was, his chauffeur was furious but Peter was screaming and saying, “HURRY THE HELL UP WILL YOU!”. At the limousine’s arrival, he carried Joe’s heavy body into the car and ordered the chauffeur to drive him home, but not before kicking the bottle of liquor in the street in anger, which cracked almost instantly.
10:00 AM. Joe awoke with a massive headache on Peter’s couch and looked at his surroundings and slowly saw as the things around him stopped swirling. He saw an expensive glass chandelier with rich foreign wallpaper and carpets around him. He was lying on an expensive red couch and had an expensive silk blanket over him. He took a minute to regain his consciousness and to think about exclaimed, “Goddamn what is this. Peter!” Peter, wearing soft pajamas with rubber duckies on them, rushed to him and gave him some water to drink. “Joe, are you okay?” “Yeah. I’m going to go home now. Let’s do this another time, okay?” Joe slowly got up and started walking out the door, leaving Peter speechless.
As he slowly walked out of Peter’s home, he was reevaluating his actions. “Sure, it had killed a few hours,” he thought, but his parents would be pissed at a phone call from the school asking for a reason for his absence. He had always tried to ignore them up to now, they were only nuisances and obstacles in my life. But he was still concerned, he didn’t like the look in their eyes and even his little brother, it was very judgmental and it really made Joe feel sinful. “But wait. Why do I even care about this? Since when did I believe in God and sin and all of that? I can lead my own life by myself, no problem,” he thought. When he reached the gates to Peter’s estate, he raised his hand along the road for a taxi as he shivered in the cold morning breeze. The road was empty and desolate, with the occasional car passing by every minute. After 15 minutes of standing in the cold, Joe felt relief as a lone taxi pulled up. It was a very trashy yellow cab with a bad stench of cigarettes, but it would do. Joe entered the car and without much enthusiasm, said, “1411 Parsons Blvd please.” The driver was a pudgy sort of Caucasian man, wearing a vest stained with Sloppy Joes and Coca-Cola, and had a dirty Chicago Cubs cap on that was probably from the 50’s. He said in a loud voice, “Yeah sure boss. Let’s go!” Joe sighed as he looked out the window and stared at the bleak morning sky. The massive headache caused his head to pulse every second and he could barely hold it. After the drive, Joe paid the driver with a ten-dollar bill and walked up to his house.
The house wasn’t exactly the envy of the block; it was one of those old Victorian-style houses that are extremely thin and tall, with many wooden plates of the roof falling off. All around it, there were weeds slowly eating away at the plantlife near the faded steps that had once been bright red. The porch had a rocking chair that had one side missing a leg, and the potted plants on the veranda were gray and without life. Joe gave a huge sigh as he walked up his steps, each step he took gave creaks as he prepared himself to face his parents.
When he walked in, the house wasn’t very wealthy or decorative, but it was very clean and orderly, just like his parents wanted it. The floors were made of wood that were scrubbed to its end to retain some of its old luster, and the staircase was newly repainted. It was an amateur job with dabs of fresh paint accidentally dripping on the black steps, but it was an effort. Joe took off his jacket and put it on the coat rack, and kicked off his shoes into a dusty corner. He walked into the kitchen, a very messy and dirty place. He saw his mother; a short stumpy woman aged around 50 with silver tied back hair. The silver hair was from all the stress that Joe had caused her, and her only reason for keeping him was her strong Catholic faith. She was wearing a very stained kitchen robe and had fluffy slippers on to avoid all the dirt and grime on the kitchen floor. Joe slowly walked up to her, his head still throbbing in pain, and tapped her shoulders. Ms. Woner shrieked in surprise and gave him a stern look. She had a pair of green eyes that seemed to stare into your soul, and they were constantly calculating and thinking. Joe seemed to be intimidated for a second, but soon regained his cool composure. Ms. Woner said, “So Joseph. You cut school again, I presume? Do you have any other excuses this time or should I start my prayers for you already?” Joe tried to look away and avoid his mother’s rage, but he actually felt the guilt for once. He thought about the hardships his dad went through to make a wage, teaching Hebrew to school kids on the weekend to support his family. “You make my life harder than it was to begin with Joseph, you know that we don’t have the wealth or tolerance to put up with your antics constantly! You are in high school young man, and your brother is already more mature than you in the 7th grade!” She stopped and looked down on the floor, breathing hard and letting tears fall for the first time. Although he had ignored the lectures all this time, Joe felt guilty that he had broken his own moral code. Seeing his own mother cry because of what he had done, it gave Joe a sickening feeling in his stomach. Ms. Woner looked up at him and coldly stared at his eyes. His breath caught her nose and instantly she smelt the alcohol from the previous day and looked up toward the heavens. After a full minute of standing, she calmly resumed her rant. “I’m done with you, Joseph. I prayed to the good Mother Mary for you but there is no hope. Leave this household.” Joe looked at her with a blank face. ‘Leave this household…? What? Does she actually mean it? I feel pretty bad but… what the hell is she talking about,’ he thought. Suddenly, she collapsed to the ground. Joe stared at her for a second, not believing what was happening. Then, he went down to the floor checking her pulse and slowly but steadily letting tears run down his cheek. ‘She can’t be dead… can she? No, this isn’t possible. THERE IS NO FREAKING WAY THIS IS POSSIBLE.” He started screaming and shaking her when he realized her pulse was gone. After 10 min, he walked to the wall, and sat on the ground, staring at his dead mother. ‘What happened?! What kind of cruel fate is this, God! ANSWER ME GOD!” He started sobbing hysterically, he had not realized how much he cared about his mother until this instant, now he was learning it the hard way. He covered his eyes with his sweaty palms and prayed the Lord’s Prayer, something he had memorized from his days in the Catholic Preschool. Nothing happened, and he soon ran out of his house in a frenzy and ran to the nearest Church, sobbing and crying in anger and sadness. He knocked open the gates to the church and ran into the middle of a congregation witnessing a baptism. Joe, completely oblivious to the people around him that were staring, ran to the front of the congregation, where the large cross was hanging, and lay in misery. The head priest, who was in the middle of baptizing a new man into priesthood, looked at Joe with wise eyes, dragged him in front of the baptism bath, and quietly said, “Son, let me wash away your sins and your past. Let Jesus embrace your soul and bring happiness in your life.” Joe suddenly woke up as if some divine spirit had freed his guilt and burden, and without thinking stepped into the cold tub feeling almost nothing. The priest blessed him and asked Joe in a calm voice, “Do you wish to be a part of our Order, young man?” Joe looked up to him and was blinded by the light of the glass ceiling above, and could not see the face of the head priest. “So this is the face of God,” he thought, “So bright and loving, the Lord knows all, doesn’t he?” Joe said with rejuvenation, “Yes my Lord! Allow me to become a loving and great person like you, let me join your Order!” And from then on, Joseph loved God and let him enter all aspects of life. He became the town’s head priest and never forgot the day that he had been saved.