A Song for Kenny Novel (Part 6)

JUST AN OLDER MAN

 

Kenny pedaled furiously into his yard then jumped off his bike. It wobbled crazily toward the garage door. Then it smacked into the vinyl material with a bang. The anger inside of him continued to spill out.

            He willed his bike to fall and smash on the ground. Hard. His mom had bought it for his twelfth birthday.

            As soon as he had seen the brand name 'Free Spirit' he knew that was he, a free spirit. No shackles. No tough rules to follow because he was a model kid.

            His mom had looked at the price and gasped. "Two hundred and fifty dollars!"

            He knew it was a lot of money. But he didn't care. He had to have it. It just needed someone like himself guiding it down country roads, gold-rimmed frame glistening in the sun.

            "Mom, I have $125.00 saved up," he had said. "Put that towards the cost. OK mom?"

            He knew this really pleased her.

            "It's a deal," she had answered.

            Now the bike lay sprawled on its side, front wheel turning. A scrape showed on the frame where it had fallen on the asphalt. It wasn't his bike's fault he felt so miserable.

            It was a combination of things. Maybe it was his mother's fault for not talking to him anymore. Or was it James for butting into his life?

            What about Larry? He was so crabby lately.

            Perhaps everything was more Troy's fault? He was stupid to pick on old man Montgomery. Now the cops would be checking on everything.

            What if they found out it was Troy? Would he go to jail? Or back to training school?

            Suddenly Kenny noticed the RCMP car pulling into a driveway next to his house. His heart skipped a beat. The RCMP! He watched both officers get out of the car. Then they walked up to the front door.

            Just then his mom drove into their driveway. She stopped a few feet short of his bike.

right fist rubbed at the side of his jeans.

            "What happened? Have an accident son?" she called out.

            "Yes a little," he lied. He couldn't tell her the truth. She would ask a hundred questions. He'd explain later then apologize. Better to keep her in a good mood for now.

            "Help me Hon," his mom said. She handed him a bag of groceries. "What's going on over there?"

            "I don't know mom. They just came before you did."           

            "Hold on a minute Kenny. Officers, excuse me," and she was off.  

            Why doesn't she mind her own business? Kenny said to himself. Good old mom always wanting to find out things or just plain help out.

            He felt a little nervous about their real intentions. Kenny was right. His mom confirmed it when she returned.

            "That's strange," she said. "Someone scared the life out of poor old Mr. Montgomery last night. He's not hurt but very upset. "They threw a rock through his window."

            "He's just an old busybody anyways!" Kenny blurted.

            "Son, that’s a terrible thing to say. Anyway they're investigating the case. It seems they found footprints with a distinct shoe mark," she added.

            She didn't notice Kenny's frown or the shaking of his head. He spoke in a whisper, "I'll take these bags of groceries inside mom," and headed for his house...

 

His mom didn't see him leave early in the morning by the back door. Kenny always enjoyed hikes along the ocean shore, especially at low tide.

            His bare feet were sensitive walking along the shore. Red sand provided a pleasant color alongside the sea's blue. It was uncomfortable trying to avoid many bits of shell smashed by tidewaters.

            It was a shame to see all the beautiful shells without form. He searched intently for a conch shell as he wandered without destination along the beach.

            The first time Kenny found a clamshell was a special moment. Its spirals and contours were like highways. He still kept it on his dresser.

            It was a thrill walking on the shore looking for something interesting, like crabs in the sand.

            Jellyfish clumps bobbed in straggling bunches. You had to be careful of the larger ones. Their trailing tendrils acted like fingers. They could wrap around bare skin and their sting would hurt for a while.

            The smaller ones didn't seem to be a problem.

Kenny got brave after finding a dead one on the shore and held it in the palm of his hand. The mass of jelly had collapsed into a mass of nothing once out of the water, during low tide.

            It was one of the victories he had achieved in his growing up. Almost like finally not believing lobsters would swim after you. Or crabs scurry across the sand to bite you, as if you were the only morsel around.

            He planned to meet Troy later along the beach just off Little Dyke road. Now here he was.

            "Hey man, this is hot," gasped Troy as he suddenly showed up. He was all out of breath. As if he had run far, barefoot on the sand.

            Kenny didn't pay him any attention. He could handle any kind of weather. Besides, he had other things to worry about.

            Why would Troy be such a nitwit? Running here in his bare feet?

            "What's the matter pal?" Troy said as he punched his friend playfully on the shoulder. "What are you thinking about? No wait let me guess. You're worrying about old man Montgomery."

            Kenny kicked at the sand. It was strange how his friend could almost read his thoughts.

            "Well...it bothers me. He's one of my best customers. I think you were a mean jerk smashing his window like that."

            "Hey. Hold it! Don't you go calling me a Jerk? I'm telling ya. If you weren't my best pal, I'd bop ya one."

            "Well go ahead. I still think you were a Jerk. A dumb Jerk."

            "You're asking for it Kenny. Lay off!"

            "What did he do to you? Why'd you go and do it. You're my best friend. You've been staying out of trouble so far. I don't want you to go back to the Boys Residential Home. Come on Troy, smarten up."

            "You little twerp, you really care about me. I didn't mean it Kenny, about bopping you. Sometimes my mouth runs off. But, I have a rep too. If you talked like that in front of my friends, I don't know what I would do."

            Both boys continued to saunter down the beach, each caught up in their own thoughts.

            Kenny studied his friend carefully. He felt things closing in. He wasn't sure if his friend really would blast him.    

            That's why he was always in trouble. It’s his temper. What if the cops should find out it was Troy who threw the rock? What if Kenny broke down and told his mom it was Troy?

            Could he lie if the police questioned him? What would he do if his statement sent Troy away? He not only could get his friend in trouble, but he would end up losing him.

            If Troy went back to the Boys Home, he might be put away for a long time. What was the right thing to do?

            If he told, Troy would pay and so would he. If he didn't, well how could he face Mr. Montgomery and the suspicious RCMP?

            Maybe running away wasn't such a bad idea. It was a chicken way out. At least, it seemed no one would be hurt, if he wasn't around.

            Up ahead their bikes reflected bright sunlight. In a few minutes they were on their way.

            Kenny was thoughtful as he pedaled home.