The Murder On Mainstreet

Chapter Two

"Hold for five more seconds. Wait, okay, now!" Loud noises filled the halls of the Fletcher House on Main Street. Four boys, all around the same age, gathered together, giggling behind the other side of the wall from a smaller boy who was walking in a hallway on the other side.

One of the boys had been little Michael, who wasn't so little anymore. Nine years had passed since the moment when his parents were murdered. Michael, well over 5′5 in height, rounded the corner and scared the smaller boy so badly that you'd think he'd pee his undergarments. The boy staggered backward and fell to the ground, his eyes wide.

The rest of the crew—Dennis, Ronnie, and Gene—followed Michael as soon as they heard the terrified screech of the younger boy. The four started to burst out with laughter as the boy stared at them in shock, processing what had just happened.

"I think he pissed his pants, Ronnie!" Michael cackled, pointing at the wet spot that had formed around the boy's rear end.

The face of the boy on the ground turned hot with embarrassment.

Michael's friend, Ronnie, had grown to be a close friend since he arrived to stay at the Fletcher house. The two of them had been partners in crime for a long time. Ronnie was a few inches shorter than Michael and had short, curly blonde hair instead of dark brown hair. His go-to outfit for today was a striped light tan and gray striped button-up t-shirt with dark green shorts. Grinning with amusement, he followed along in Michael's footsteps as he joined in with the taunting, "Aw, looks like little Tony has to be cleaned up!"

"Why can't you guys knock it off?" A figure stepped behind Tony and helped the boy up.

"Looks like we knocked off Tony first, Alan." Micheal retorted.

Alan narrowed his eyes, his gaze meeting Michael's. "It's time for you to stop being such an ass. That's a warning. Stop picking on Tony; it isn't funny anymore."

Michael raised an eyebrow. "Says the one who loved pranks in the first place."

"Look, when it gets to the point where it's pushing around eleven-year-olds, it becomes a shitty feeling to keep on your conscience. Plus, you may get in trouble, too," Alan said in defense. He stepped in front of Tony and allowed the boy to get out of the hall and away from the rest of the older boys.

With a chuckle, Michael rolled his eyes. "And who's going to do something about it? Mr. Fletcher? He may be the owner of the house, but he's not my dad. My old man is long dead."

"Yeah, and so are the rest of our parents. That doesn't give you a special privilege to push around the other people that live here."

Michael's gaze lit up, seeming as if he were challenging Alan. "And who said you were the one to make the house rules, hm? Looks like that's never happened since the last time I checked." His face contorted into a mocking expression of disgust. "Plus, you smell like wet cabbage. The big man would've never allowed you to do that with you smelling like that."

Alan rolled his eyes at Michael's growing smug grin and started to walk away in the direction Tony went.

Ronnie held up his hand to Michael for a high-five. "Nice job getting rid of that asshole."

Michael returned the high-five and smiled, but he still kept his narrowed eyes fixed on Alan. That idiot, he thought. Walking away from me? He sure is testing his limits.

Gene looked at the clock hanging on the wall. "It's almost supper. Best we get cleaned up," he reminded the boys, breaking Michael away from his thoughts. "Mrs. Fletcher won't be happy if she sees dirt on us."

Ronnie agreed. "Yeah. Let's get going."

*      *      *

Everyone who lived in the Fletcher house, including Mr. and Mrs. Fletcher, sat around the dining table. Though everyone was chatting away, there was still a strange tension in the air between Michael's and Alan's groups. They both sat at opposite ends of the table, occasionally exchanging glances and glaring at each other. Michael, Gene, Dennis, and Ronnie sat at the far end of the table, whereas Tony and Alan sat at the other end, near Mr. and Mrs. Fletcher.