ONE
I live in the very far side of town, at the very edge where questionable things happen, and where questionable people meet. Now it's not a big surprise that the idiots at school would call me out and holler at me just because my grandfather insists that a gentleman should wear a tie everday, anywhere, anytime, and that I insist on following what he says, even though we live in the decaying portion of the northern hemisphere.
I remember how Jim Nolan would swat my hair in disgust and call me 'chicken feed' because I'm too gosh darn low to be a chicken, but I feed the lowest of the low, which I guess in his analogy would be the chicken. And the chicken would be the 'striders.
Yeah, I don't get it either.
The nicest person I've ever come across would be Holly Ramirez. Half German and half Spanish, she would converse with me through hand motions since a language barrier the size of the sinkable Titanic kept us apart from forming a real friendship. Sad too, she seems like a nice girl.
But back to my side of town and away from my wilting social life, something bigs gonna happen this year, and boy do I feel it. It's not only me who feels the change in the winds either- my grandpop knows somethings up- and when its my grandpa who declares that theres an odd flavor in the air, there definitely is something.
Now what it is I don't exactly know.
My guts telling me some possible theories, but it would be too stupid to ask my old man if its right. He'd only laugh at me and tell me that great things take time, not blind guesses.
If I wasn't so afraid of guessing wrong, I would say that the big change already came once that rich looking family moved right across the street from us. White tuxedos and glimmering shoes don't visit our road very often, and they most surely don't move in our neighborhood.
And families like that don't have a girl who roams the large part of town after the sunset because thats awfully dangerous. Yet they do. And that girl shouldn't be wearing such eye-catching dresses that cause too much attention. And that girl shouldn't knock on our house everymorning just to give my grandpa the paper.
It's not normal.
But then again, I'm not normal either.
