Chapter 3: Glass Marbles

"The knife wouldn't go any deeper. The girl, covered in mud and scrapes, bleeding profusely, screamed as her attacker twisted the blade. You could see the life drain from her eyes. Taking her last breath, the man in the silver mask kissed her neck as her body went limp."

Alex looks up from his book, Dear Mr. Silence, a story he's been reading since earlier in the year.

His mother pulls into the driveway. The moving men are already there, waiting. Blake places the car in park and steps out of the beat up Explorer, walks up to the front door and let's them in.

    "Most of the boxes are in the living room. Let me know if you have a question about what's going, and what's staying," Blake says.

"Mom, where's James?" Alex asks in an uncaring manner.

    "He said he's with some friends for the night. He doesn't want to be here when we leave," his mother responds.

"Figures," Alex scoffs under his breath.

He grabs his backpack and sets it just inside the door, stepping out of the way of the moving men as they continue to load up the truck parked in the front yard. Blake follows behind Alex and walks inside to gather the rest of their packed belongings into the living room.

They continue loading the truck full of bags, clothes, boxes and furniture. The once empty moving truck is now filled with memories. Alex wraps two pictures with a thinly padded blanket and gently places them in between his nightstand and a box marked "Bathroom Stuff: Fragile."

    Turning around, he sees his mother start to struggle with a few boxes. Alex runs over to her and grabs the top box as it barely leans over the edge of the stack, catching it before it falls.

    "Thank you... honey," Blake says with a grateful smile in between breaths.

    "Anytime Mom," Alex responds. "How much more do we have to pack before we're done?" he asks.

Waiting to answer, Blake places her box into the back of the moving truck. Like playing a game of Tetris, they strategically stack the boxes on top of one another, making sure everything fits perfectly.

Blake, wiping her forehead with the base of her shirt, takes a seat in the dining room chair that sits alone in the middle of the yard.

    "I'm not quite sure actually. I know we've got the kitchen, my bedroom, and your room done," Blake says. "How about you go check the hall closet for anything we may be forgetting?"

Alex nods his head and walks inside. Running his hands across the walls down the hallway, he opens the closet door, grabbing the obvious things. Winter clothes, game boards, and dusty, untouched boxes. As he starts clearing out the closet, pulling out boxes one by one, he begins rumishing through an old crate. Alex, overcome with nostalgia and memories of the days before his dad died, notices a small blue and gold bag at the bottom of the faded crate. His hand begins to push everything to one side of the box as he grabs the polyester sack and picks it up smiling. Holding it for just a moment, Alex opens up the drawstrings and peeks inside at the collection of glass marbles. He slides the pouch into his pocket and glances back down at the crate.

Underneath the mounds of wrinkled up paper and endless piles of old birthday cards, a single manila folder lay at the bottom. Wrapped in a plastic sleeve and a light layer of dust, Alex grabs it. Trying to look through the plastic without opening it, he wipes away the dust and holds the folder in the light.

The hair on the back of Alex's neck is standing up. He can feel someone looking at him. Looking over his shoulder he notices one of the moving men watching him from across the hallway. Alex tucks the envelope under his shirt until the middle aged, bearded man walks away.

    It was in almost perfect condition, protected from damage within the plastic wrapped around it. The thick envelope was still easy to bend. Maybe a few small, loose items rolling around the bottom, but other than that, it just felt like papers. He tears at the top, trying not to pull too hard and jeopardize ripping whatever is inside.

    "Alex?" his mother says from the living room. "Where are you? I need your help."

Alex, startled, quickly grabs his yellow jacket from the floor of the closet and wraps the mysterious package inside.

"Everything is loaded up, I'm waiting for you hun," Blake says with a tired look on her face. "The moving men just left."

    "I'm coming. I just need help with these clothes and a couple of those boxes," Alex responds.

Together, they grab the last remaining items, walk down the steps on the front porch, and load them into the back of the truck. Blake lets out a sigh of relief and smiles at her son. Alex reaches up and grabs the strap hanging from the bottom of the sliding door. He pulls the door shut and locks both sides to keep it from opening.

Blake, reaching into her pocket, pulls out the keys to her car and turns on the engine. Alex runs inside while she parks the car on the flat, metal trailer being pulled behind the moving truck.

Swinging the door open, Alex snatches his bookbag and slings it over his shoulder. Before leaving the house again, he turns around and takes one last look at the house he's lived in since he was nine years old. He smiles as a single tear forms in his eye. Alex wipes his face and takes a deep breath.

"I love you dad," he whispers as he shuts the door behind him.

The yellow jacket is tucked under his left arm. Alex opens the door to the moving truck and stuffs the jacket under the seat, being careful not to let his mother see him. He climbs into the truck and sets his backpack on the floorboard between his feet. The tan leather on the seat is torn, and still warm from sitting in the sun.

Sitting back up and adjusting his legs, Alex tugs on the lever beside the seat and reclines backwards, soon stopped by the metal wall dividing them from their entire lives on the other side.

"This is a huge step for us buddy. But together, we can do it," Blake says.

    "I know Mom, but it's for the best. I love you," Alex responds with a reassuring tone.

    "I love you too son," his mother says with a smirk.

Blake puts the truck in drive and slowly makes her way down the driveway and into the road. The left turn blinker cascades over the house every few seconds, blending perfectly with the setting sun, fading as they make their way down Williams Street. Alex turns down the radio and lays back in his seat, propping his feet up on the dashboard.

"You know how I said we would stay at a hotel for a few weeks until I found us an actual home?" Blake asks.

         "Yeah?" Alex responds with a confused looks on his face.

         "Well, we are actually going to stay with your Aunt Linda. You remember her right?" she says. "Linda was your father's sister, and she's letting us stay with her until we can get our own place. Isn't that great?"

         "I mean, I guess so. But I don't remember her." Alex says, searching his mind for a memory of his aunt.

         "That's okay Alex. You'll get to know her. She has a dog named Hickory and I'm sure you'll love him too," Blake says with a smile on her face.

Alex stares out the side window, watching as he sees people he grew up with leaving grocery stores, walking down the street, and laughing, for the last time. He grabs his book and sinks down into his seat.

"Taking her last breath, the man in the silver mask kissed her neck as her body went limp. Breathing down her neck, he writes "Mr. Silence" just above her breasts."