A Kingdom of Our Own

Chapter Six - The Letter

Dalton rode his bike home from the school with a certain degree of smugness about his expression, his wide ear to ear grin lit up by the piercing glare of the afternoon sun. This was certainly a day he’d remember for the rest of his life, a day that he could look back on with pride and tell to friends at parties for a laugh. Never before had he been so satisfied with how a series of events had turned out, especially with how it had all ended, with the priceless, laughable sight of Gavin and his two “homies” screaming for their lives as they ran to their Mommy for protection. He simply couldn’t have written it any better himself. He’d exposed them for what they truly were, a bunch of lowlife pussies. It was about time somebody had taken action and maybe now the first step had been taken, a domino effect would occur and others wouldn’t be so scared to follow in tow.

Despite the great sense of jubilation he felt at the time, it still can’t be ignored that Dalton did worry an awful bit over the matter too, even if he didn’t appear to be showing any regrets at present. In reality, somewhere within him, deep down, fear was brewing. Eventually, when Gavin calmed down and his mind had settled, he would return to his usual senses and come to realise that he had fallen victim to a mean trick. Dalton was well aware of that. He’d accepted that. What really got to him though and nagged away at his conscience, was the continuous wonder on how drastic the consequences of his actions were to be, when Gavin tracked him down in order to dish out some vengeance of his own. There was no way of knowing when that would be. It could come the following day or the pursuit could carry on for months, finally catching up with him when the encounter had been pushed to the very back of his mind. The only thing that was certain at present, was that one day, no matter how far in the future, he would come for him. It was this uncertainty on when his nemesis’s redemption was to hit him and its unknown intensity, that sent chills rippling coolly down his spine and forced him to panic.

It was only now, in this state of disarray that Dalton began to think to himself hastily and irrationally for any loopholes, any possible way to avoid his predetermined fate. Maybe, just maybe, he could take off in the dead of night and leave this Godforsaken town forever. He could travel from state to state for a while, just him and the open road and eventually he might just find some place far afield where he could start a new life and be able to live in peace, without any bother.

These thoughts fortunately were soon pushed aside, to the very back of Dalton’s mind, as he made yet another turn and found himself peddling down the short side street in which he lived. The issue of Gavin was one that could be dealt with at a later date. For the time being it was important that he focused on what mattered in life - on all those who cared and looked out for him in these lowdown times and he too held dear to his heart.

All the homes down the street were limited to a single story and like the great majority of houses on the western seaboard were composed primarily out of timber, the cheapest and most readily available resource in the area. Although the properties themselves weren’t lavish or worth a great deal, the residents were all decent, respectable souls and the setting too was a rather pleasant one. The freshly tarmacked road was wider than most, making space outdoors plentiful (although there was no sidewalk) and either side of the street was lined with a uniformed row of flourishing pine trees which swayed in the light summer breeze. The soft “coo, coo” of the birds from within the trees even helped Dalton to relax a little, his hands unclenching from their sweaty grasp on the handles.

The first notable sight was that there was a great deal of activity about the street, something that was rather odd and queer looking, given that it was a weekday and the afternoon was still in its early hours. On any normal day people would have been at work for a good few hours longer, but most had taken their leave early today in order to gain some much needed rest before the early evening arrived and the celebrations kicked off. There was one man who stood tending to the engine of his light blue Ford on the driveway to his home and next door an elderly couple lay there, eyes closed, basking on a pair of grubby deckchairs. A few houses further down the street, another middle aged gentleman emerged with a pair of hedge trimmers at hand. Rest obviously wasn’t on his agenda.