Copper pipes

Chapter -1. Number thirty eight

Every headline is a sharp intake of breath; each report is a cold hand gripping the throat. The terror is intimate and personal. It's as if the darkness has seeped into American life, turning it into a monstrous TV show. And yet, in the face of such all-pervasive darkness, the human spirit is a curious thing. It trembles, it falters, but it does not break. Deep within each person is a resolve. It defies the encroaching gloom. The audience watches the screen with an unblinking gaze, fascinated by the unfolding chaos, their thoughts racing between feelings of great fear and... overwhelming curiosity.

***

QB2008: "Hey, birdie. I know your secret."

dearKate: "Who is this?"

QB2008: "Really, you don't have a clue?"

dearKate: "Jamie?"

QB2008: "Nope, try again."

dearKate: "Mom?"

QB2008: "Haha :) You're funny, I like that! I've got your favorite slim menthol cigarettes in my pocket."

dearKate: "Intrigued to the core! So, who is this?"

QB2008: "Your crush, silly! I heard from someone that you like me. I'm making the first move here! Trying, at least! :)"

dearKate: "Who told you? I will deny everything!"

QB2008: "Or we could have a smoke and chat after class?"

dearKate: "typing"

QB2008: "I know you're shy. That's okay. Let's just postpone our meetup till high school <3"

dearKate: "Where do you want to meet?"

QB2008: "Now that's the spirit! My brave girl <3! How about after my practice? You know the path behind the basketball court? 9 PM."

dearKate: "I'll think of something!"

QB2008: "Just imagine, by tonight, I'll be hugging you..."

dearKate: "Stop making me blush! Don't forget the menthols!"

QB2008: "Slim ones. And I'll walk you home <3"

***

A sweet eighth grader with a thick braid and neat glasses, which made her wide eyes look like plums, scrolled through her friend's chat. She shook her head in disapproval.

"I didn't tell anyone!" Jamie's voice rose in protest, her tone defensive and hurt.

"But no one else knew," Kate replied calmly, without a hint of offense, uplifted joy highlighted in her voice.

"Maybe someone overheard us talking? During the break?!" Jamie was still trying to justify herself.

"I'm not mad at you. Look how well it turned out! He wants to meet!" Kate reached out to hug her friend.

"But he didn't even look at you in school," Jamie pulled away, trying to make her classmate see reason.

"He's always surrounded by friends; he knows I'm shy. We'll meet tonight. After his practice."

"That's weird! Why not chat at school?"

"It's romantic! The park, twilight, menthol cigarettes!"

"Twilight? Are you nuts? There's a curfew across the country! Your parents will kill you!"

"Not if they think I'm at your place!"

"Don't even try to convince me! This is the dumbest idea that has ever crossed your useless mind. Do you watch the news?"

"He will protect me."

***

The tenth-grade quarterback didn't show up at the path, even when the clock struck 10 PM. The charming, stocky Kate had a cute hairstyle. She wore a light, open dress and a sports jacket with the school football team logo. She swapped her weight between her feet, casting expectant looks around. Her thick, caked-on makeup clashed with her youthful, radiant features.

The girl checked her phone again.

dearKate: "Stop making me blush! Don't forget the menthols!"

QB2008: "Slim ones. And I'll walk you home <3"

dearKate: "I'm here!"

dearKate: "How much longer?"

dearKate: "Are athletes always this unpunctual?"

dearKate: "I'm scared..."

There was no reply from the recipient. The girl, with her flashy makeup and bright ribbons in her hair, resembled a little exotic bird. A shiver ran through her body; she had to get home! Zipping up her jacket and pulling her skirt to her knees, the little one hurried to the residential blocks.

A dull sound of a car door closing somewhere nearby was heard. A chill of fear ran through Kate. She continued to trudge along the path home, without turning around. She didn't want to draw attention, so she didn't speed up. Her nerves hummed like the taut strings of a musical instrument. They were ready to snap and let out a final, desperate scream. Two blocks down the street and one crossing. Then, she would endure her mother's fury over the brazen tardiness. Her anger would inevitably turn into quiet disappointment. Dad would read out the punishment. The phone and iPad would be confiscated... and then there would be a hot family dinner, the cozy light of a safe living room, and a sound sleep in a warm bed...

The phone beeped.

dearKate: "Are athletes always this unpunctual?"

dearKate: "I'm scared..."

QB2008: "Scared? Mmm, very good! That's my favorite dessert!"

Strong, unfamiliar hands, covered with boxing wraps, squeezed her shoulders and chest. These limbs had black nails and cracked, bleeding skin. They looked nothing like a tenth grader's hands. She wanted to squeal, but her nerves-worn vocal cords could only produce a muffled "mmph." She noticed a smell of old leather and metal. A needle from a syringe pierced her neck. Sharp and decisive, it slid deeper under her tender skin. Her limbs went numb. The last image that crept into Kate's mind before her consciousness slipped away was her mom's displeased but beloved face, laying out aromatic homemade food on plates...