in love with home • johnny cade

1

Y/N

I never liked the thought of leaving everything behind. My home, my friends, the places I loved. But it was evident. I'd have to do it someday to leave for college and all that, but I never thought it'd be this soon.

May 15th, 1965. I'd left my home in Canada for a new one in Tulsa, Oklahoma. I'd only ever been to Washington State with a glimpse of what America looked like. All the movie stars found fame there. Everything came from America. Fortune, pride, and glory.

I've been here for a month now, finishing puzzles and reading books, going on walks when I felt like I needed the sun. I'd been taken out from my old school early with my exams practically cancelled since they couldn't do anything about it. This place I'm living in was a nice change of pace.

The sudden move was a change for me. I had no time to protest or comprehend it. I just had to endure and listen to what they said. I had a month to let everything sink in, and I did. I quickly learned that I was in a lower class neighbourhood, living in a house others would call fancy when really all we do is clean.

I haven't even met my neighbours. I never saw them come out of their house, and they never saw me.

This part of America wasn't all gold and neon lights. It was dusty, small and a bit cramped. All the men I see are either clad in pastel colours or dirty with attire that makes them look like car mechanics. I've been a victim of attempts to be picked up and taken home a few times already. Nothing physical, only verbal.

All the girls were either dolled up with dresses that stood out in the sun or heavy with eye makeup and skin tight jeans topped with a leather jacket that makes you see the imprint of their underwear.

And as an Asian-Canadian-soon-to-be-American female living in a place like this? It's a survival game. I've been racially profiled, but never physically hurt.
I started carrying a pocket knife and hand sanitizer spray on me. I didn't have pepper spray, so I had to use what I got. The men here were nothing short of intimidating.

I never understood the social system here. As long as I didn't get harassed, I'd be okay. I never put a label on myself.

I knew the area around me by heart. I knew where the grocery store was, police station, the DX gas station; if I didn't know, I'd figure it out. In a month's time, memorizing the directions to every place nearby, I'd consider that impressive.

The bell of the door to the DX jingled as I welcomed myself in. I took a Pepsi bottle out of the fridge and took it to the counter, where a bunch of other girls were standing there but to talk to the man at the register.

"Are you guys in line?"

"No."
One of them responds before their attention is brought back to the cashier.
What was so interesting about him anyways?

He suddenly looked at me, curling two fingers towards him as a gesture to come over.

Placing the bottle on the counter, I take 10 cents out my pocket and hand it to him.

"I haven't seen you around before."
He says. I look up at him but keep my mouth shut.

"You new around here?"
The look on his face was one that meant he wasn't going to leave me alone unless I answered him.

"I moved here a month ago."
I reluctantly reply.

"Really? Strange, I thought I would've noticed."
He says, handing me a straw like he knew I was going to ask for one.

"What's your name?"
I haven't been asked that at all on this trip, let alone by an employeee I'd probably never see again. I've never seen this guy behind the counter any other time I've come to the DX.
The other girls shoot me a dirty look, probably judging the fact I was wearing pants or something.

"Y/N. Thanks for the drink..."
I peer down at his name tag.

"Sodapop."
I look back up at him before turning around to leave, sipping the Pepsi from the straw he so graciously gave me.
He was quite cute, but I was never a first choice, so I let it go.

The sun was still up and I had time to kill, so I assumed a walk wouldn't hurt.
My parents have been nagging me to go outside more ever since I isolated myself in my room with books.

A slight breeze came along every other minute to cool down the atmosphere. Kids were running around, two teens hand in hand as they trailed the sidewalk, and lines for the ice cream truck began to extend longer than I've seen. Summer was around the corner, and the people of Tulsa were ready for it.

There's a stray football in the lot near home. There's a jean jacket laying there, which I pick up in hopes of finding its owner. I see another colour other than green, brown, white, and blue.
Red.

A trail of red, lining across the lot in drips until the end. This was probably a really bad idea, but I was intruigued. Is this why my parents wanted me to go outside?

The trail prolonged off the lot, onto the grass. It stops there, and its silent.
This was probably a trap. A trap to get me harassed and kidnapped by some random man obsessed with teenage girls.

I think about running away until I hear the sound of light breathing followed by a low moan. The light shows a boy all bloodied and bruised with cuts on his face, laying face down.
I hear muffled sobs as I come closer.

I help him sit up, and he immediately tries to move away.

"I'm not gonna hurt you."
I rest my empty Pepsi bottle on the ground, kicking it out of the way.

He's lying there, shaken with the look of fear in his eyes.
I managed to get him to accept my help.

"Can you stand?"
His breathing is erratic as I put one of his arms over my shoulder. I can feel his head turn to look at me but I don't return the gaze.

"Come on."
I say, helping the limping boy up and out of the grass, leaving my glass bottle behind.

What was I doing? I've only been here for a month and now I'm helping out a total stranger who looked like he'd almost been beaten to death.
I just wanted a Pepsi, how did I get into this mess?

Poor kid. I hope he doesn't mind my help.