Aceite set the next box down, dusting the snow from his gloves. He sighed, looking back at the caravan filled with boxes. He heaved a sigh and went for the next box. Aceite reached to a big box, bending his legs to prepare for the weight, before bringing it to the house. He gave a shiver, as a gust of wind rushed into the house, which was itself already cold. Aceite went back out and surveyed the boxes. He was searching for something to help warm up the place, he had known about this, yet didn't guess at the idea to put the heater towards the outside of his car. After a few minutes the cold bit at is gloved hands, he rubbed them together, frowning as they're dampness made this a failure. He went on to haul the boxes in, almost slipping on the ice several times. He grabbed the last one, knees buckling as he dropped it, landing with a large thud! Accompanied by what sounded like glass breaking. He stomped at the ground shouting at a pole. He leaned against his car on the ground, face buried in his hands. He felt snow claw at him, threatening him with frostbite. Aceite hadn't truly noticed, after all, his whole body was already numb. Although, he admitted, his heart ached terribly. He gave a few gentle sobs, back heaving, he felt stupid.
"Sir?" Someone asked, voice filled with concern. Aceite looked up, quickly wiping his tears.
"Yes?" Aceite replied, his voice croaky. The man offered a hand,
"Are you okay? C'mon, get up," He urged Aceite looked up at the man for a moment, his brown hair peaking out from his hat, gentle golden eyes staring down. Aceite put his hand in the stranger's hurrying to his feet. The man noticed Aceite's silence, "Are you ok?" He repeated. Aceite opened his mouth to speak but found it difficult.
"I'm fine." He insisted, resisting his clattering teeth. The man had a knowing look,
"I'm Reford," the man said, with a smile,
"Ah-Aceite..." Aceite said, unable to resist his teeth clattering.
"Nice to meet you, say you look a little young, where are your parents?" Reford wondered.
"That's none of your business, now leave before I scream 'Stranger'." Aceite said defensively.
"I'm a police officer. Now would you answer my question?" Aceite scowled at Reford, he didn't want to believe him.
"I am sixteen, sir. I have not broken any laws." Aceite tried, looking away, he shouldn't lie. Would it make any difference though?
"And your parents?" He asked, I put my hands away, and locked my eyes on the ground. "Don't ignore me,"
"They aren't here." Aceite answered, Reford shook his head ruefully,
"Where are they?" He pressed, Aceite began speaking before being interrupted, "Look at me when you're speaking." Aceite lifted his eyes, scowling plainly,
"Tafigan." He said sternly,
"Don't lie to me boy."
"I'm not. Their names are Railon Lilpson and Gale Lilpson. You're welcome to look it up."
"Then why are you here?" The officer said louder then he intended.
"They kicked me out. Can I go in my house now?" Aceite asked, seeming annoyed.
"No. I can't let you be alone, it's my job as—" The officer began,
"Mr. Reford, I have done nothing wrong. I intend to pay my bills."
"How would a sixteen-year-old manage that alone?"
"I've got a decent job, and connections."
"I see. I'll be back, I intend on talking to your parents." With that, Reford stormed off. Aceite heaved a sigh, and grabbed the final box, though his numb body protested. He shut his door and sat on his fold out chair. He looked at his small trailer, thankful for it, even if it was freezing. Aceite found a small blanked, and threw it on a bed, placing his heater on the bed stand. He placed his wet clothes by the door over a bin and curled up in his blanket. He tried to sleep, but with his body vibrating from cold, this was difficult. Eventually he warmed enough for his eyes to close.
"Oil! Oil!" Someone shouted. Aceite, confused, walked to towards the noise. He saw Reford, hovering over a large pool of oil. Slowly oil spread into a nearby lake, and fish up turned. Aceite noticed, he wasn't wearing his jacket, but for some reason, despite the snow, he wasn't cold. Of course, this had to be a dream, he thought. Aceite approached Reford,
"Oil?" He echoed the man, Reford looked almost... scared for a moment? Perhaps because of the oil's pollution to the water. Reford straitened himself out,
"Why are you here, boy?" He said in that menacing tone.
"I heard people crying out," Aceite explained,
"Have you come to fix the problem? What are you going to do? Stare at it until it stops?" Reford said in a mocking tone.
"Yes," Aceite said, he didn't understand... What? Aceite thought, what's going on? Aceite approached the man, anger boiling inside of the man before him, as Aceite stepped ever closer.
"Step away, Aceite." He said, Aceite raised a brow.
"I don't think I will." Aceite said, what was going on? Aceite wondered. He then went into the lake, he saw Reford running at him,
"Stop that, Aceite!" He spoke. Aceite felt a gust of warm wind, and his eyes rushed open. His heater on his table side was making a strange noise. Aceite rushed to inspect it, as he pulled his blanket off, he instantly regretted it. Cold hit him suddenly, and he wrapped himself back in his blanket. He reached a handout, which protested. He quickly grabbed the heater, inching closer as the cord pulled against going any further. He inspected it, finding the problem to be the cord was loose. He heaved a sigh, leaning forward to push the cord, he did it quickly. He looked at his phone, turning it on, and saw the time. Aceite nearly launched himself out of his bed when he saw the time, he was going to be late. He ran to his rental car, shoving his beaten-up bike in, and hopped in. He twisted the key frantically; he was going to be late for his interview. He barely noticed the frosted nipping at him, as his stress distracted him. Aceite got out and opened the front, it was frozen. Aceite sighed, searching his mind, what was he meant to do? He watched a man walking by and ran to him,
"Sir!" He called; the man turned around. The man didn't look much older than Aceite, but Aceite didn't mind. He just needed someone that knew how to help.
"Yes?" The man asked, pulling his hood down revealing a smile, not wanting to scare Aceite. Aceite forced a kind smile to return the man's, and said,
"M-my car is frozen; can you help me fix it? It's a rental, and I'm late to return it..."
"Sure, let me look at it," he said, Aceite's smile grew more genuine in the newfound hope from the stranger. He quickly led the man to the rental and showed him the front. The man examined it and chuckled,
"I can fix this, but what about your parents kid? Can't they?" Aceite's smile quickly faded, did he really look so young? "Their busy, besides they wanted me to socialize more," Aceite tried, praying the man didn't sense his lie. The man just shrugged and began fingering at the car, Aceite watched closely in case this happened again and there was no man to help. The man pulled away, and began walking away,
"Good luck kid, I hope you can make up with your parents," he said, Aceite felt strange, but shrugged it off, he had a car to return.
YOU ARE READING
Oil Spill
Mysterie / ThrillerAceite is a young boy who has moved away from his parents as they didn't get along. Aceite applies for a job, and gets it. But when he shows up, it's empty. He's left to pick up the slack. An angry customer results in an unfortunate event. Aceite a...
