Crooked Smiles

Beginning of the End

"This place freaks me out," my brothers' skittish voice calls out through the foggy forest.
He's been bitching and moaning the whole ride out; I get it. He didn't want to move.
"What are you talking about? This place is... profound!" I jump off the rickety old truck, my scrawny arms nearly buckling under the weight of the last box.
Oof.
What the hell is in here?
"Don't drop that!" The kid shoots out of his slumped posture with flying hands.
I yank it out of his reach, and he stumbles forward, slamming against the truck.
"Shit!" he recoils, but regains his balance.
He whips around, but I can't see his face under all that black emo hair.
"Jesus," I burst out laughing, "what's got your panties in such a bunch?"
He shakes away his hair, uncovering annoyed black eyes; it's no mystery he hates my guts.
"Melonie~ c'mon..!" he whines.
I give in to his childish pleas and place the mysterious box down; not without a sarcastic shake though.
"What's inside, kiddo?"
"It's a Christmas present," he replies with a mischievous smile, ripping the cardboard box off the dewy ground.
"Christmas. Of course," I snicker as I pull the keys from the ignition. "What," I turn around to terrorize the moody teen, "got some sexy stuff in there?"
"Shut up," his smile turns to a frown and he flips on a coin, trudging through the mud. "It's none of your buisness," his agitated voice echoes through the eerie wilderness.
My eyes fall on our new... house. Some people definitely wouldn't hesitate to call it a shack. Only, it's not a shanty thing... the wood sidings look fresh, clean and well built.
"Delson!" I snap back into action, "Wait up!"
My keys jingle obnoxiously as I chase after my brother; I can almost smell his teen angst:
"Oh Mel, I miss my girlfriend."
"Oh no, I can't skateboard in the wilderness."
"Poor me, there's nothing to do out here."
I swear, this kid needs to learn how to connect with the land; listen to it; learn from it.
It's what mom wanted for us.

~

"Ah," I lean back on the porch railing.
Flick.
Flick.
Spark.
I take a puff of my skillfully rolled joint and watch the skunky smoke curl into the mysterious black night. The stars are bright and numerous; they never looked like this in the city.
I feel an unmistakable connection between land and heart.
The trees sway in the wind's breath; I exhale.

Branches; brooks; veins.
Forests; rivers; capillaries.
Lands; oceans; hearts.

Crack.
The porch door slides open.
I flinch; the joint flies right out of my hand.
"Christ!"
It bounces off the pine flooring, nearly slipping between the cracks. Without hesitation, I quickly send to the rescue, taking a hit while I'm already down.
"Mel! What are you, a fucking crack head?" Delson gripes like a snotty poindexter.
"Don't be such a narc," I sneer, flinging myself up. "How'd you manage to get in skating scene with that loser attitude? It's just some weed, Delson."
Silenced; any words he had lined up just got shoveled down his throat.
"Gimme some of that," he snatches the joint from my hand with a twisted expression.
He takes a deep, deep breath and~
"Oh fu~" he cuts his words, coughing and sputtering like middle schooler that finally built up the courage to steal their mom's smokes.
I stifle a laugh, snatching the joint from his stunned hands.
"We finished setting everything up so, I had to unwind," my words are drowned out by his intense coughing fit. A festering annoyance with my brothers inexperience takes over me. "Jesus, would you shut up?"
"... just~ give me~ a sec," he holds onto the railing for dear life, then finally, he regains his breath. "Okay."
"Okay," I repeat, killing the joint on the pine beam. "Now you've done the marijuana."
"I already did," he coughs one more time, straightening up with a contorted face. "You know I'm no goodie two-shoes."
"Yeah, yeah; you're one of the 'cool kids'," I scrunch my face up and cross my arms, imitating his snotty nosed friends.
"Was," he looks down; his expression is bittersweet. "Was one of the cool kids."
"Ah, don't beat yourself up about it; what's done is done. You've got a new school and a blank slate. You can be charming."
"Awh, than~"
"Sometimes," I smile, recalling my compliment and following up with a stoned laugh; it goes on a little too long.
"Okay, Mel," he crosses his arms like his friends at Ryerson High.
"Okay, Del."
Mel and Del; people always used to find that funny, and if they were dumb enough, they'd ask if we were twins.
Delson goes quiet again, sulking in his oversized clothes; his lanky frame looks like it can hardly handle the weight.
"Do you even miss Toronto?"
"Hardly," I respond without hesitation, flipping my raven braid over my shoulder. "Yea, I'm gonna miss the late night shenanigans and a couple folks from the museum, but I dunno; I don't usually miss... people that much."
"Why?" He cries; he definitely can't relate. The kid was always sneaking out to rowdy parties with his favourite like-minded friends...
Guess they never taught him how to smoke a joint.
"I dunno, I felt kinda isolated."
"Isolated? What the fuck are you talking about?" He laughs, irony clear in his voice. "Isolated takes on a whole new meaning here! We're 26km from the nearest town! What~ what's~ I don't even remember the name of it!"
"Caledonia; the friendliest town in the east coast!" I mock the slogan, sounding identical to a chipper commercial.
"Yeah... Caledonia," he shakes his moppy hair like a puppy dog. "I hardly remember passing by. It's tiny."
"Well, where one civilization ends another begins," I motion to the tall pine trees that stand with dignity and purpose.
"Yeah, whatever Mel. You're starting to sound like... a hippie," he reaches for the sliding door.
"Hippie?!" I nearly flip over the railing. "I'm no hippie."
He smirks with proud mischief; he knows that pisses me right off.
"Oh, and we need some more groceries; we only have those shitty Baybels and half a box of Cheerios."
"Yeah, I wouldn't mind a good meal," I recover, a comeback popping into my mind. "While I'm at it, I'll stop by the NSLC and get you a joint or two; for practice."
The victory from his earlier remark is completely wiped off his face. He huffs and puffs, sliding the door open, but then, he chuckles.
"I hope Caledonia has an NSLC."
Click.
The door shuts behind him and he looks through the glass with a shit-eating smile.
Damn.
Now that I think about it, he's probably right.
I stick him the middle finger and hop off the porch; my keys, jingling bells in the silent night.

~

"Bread, lettuce, tomatoes... potatoes," I recite my grocery list, randomly deciding on an aisle and paying little attention to my surroundings.
"Ooh," I slide by a blueberry pie; it's awful tempting, especially since I'm still a little stoned.
I look at the rest of the table... it's empty.
"Huh, they must be good," I mutter, tossing the last pie in my plastic basket.
I stroll down the next aisle, but the further I walk, the more confused I become.
There's hardly anything on these shelves; just a couple kraft dinner boxes and some ramen noodles.
I stand idle, confused and hungry.
Now that I look around, there's not a single soul here...
"Hello!"
With uncanny timing, a sprightly face appears beside me like magic is real.
"Je~" I flinch, nearly dropping the pie.
"Welcome to Topnotch Grocer!" his warm breath moistens my face.
"Jesus," I recoil; he's way too close for a stranger.
"How can I help you?"
He's got bleach blond hair, piercing blue eyes and an acne ridden face. He's everyone's vision of an 'innocent white boy', but his smile is as fake as my nails.
"Well you can start by backing the hell up," my laugh dies flatly.
"Of course ma'am," he zips.
But... he doesn't budge. He doesn't even blink. His pearly smile only widens and his glossy eyes pin me; static.
My stomach flips and paranoia swallows me whole.
Nope, nope, nope; I'm so gone.
"Uh~ uh... yeah, yeah... I'll be going, thanks." I turn on my heels and head for the doors, discarding the pie on the nearest table.
"Not so fast," he reanimates himself with an odd, almost robotic tone.
"Don't you want your pie."
"Nope," I yip, weaving through empty tables that should be full of food. Even the candies and magazines that usually litter grocery stores are missing...
Either I'm too high, or there's seriously something up.
I can hear slow, careless footsteps clapping after me.
Is he gonna follow me out?
I whip open the door, but before I can book it, my cheaply knit sweater catches on the handle and I unwillingly twist around.
"Fuck!"
I frantically look up at him; a chill runs down my spine.
His face is contorted; unnatural, like he can't choose an human expression to emulate. His eyes are wide and glassy; his eyebrows are twisted and sad. But his smile~ his smile is almost cut ear to ear.
I aggressively tug on my shirt, tearing a large hole in the bottom.

Jingle, jangle.

My keys fall to the ground like something from a horror movie, but I waste no time picking them back up again.
"Have a wonderful night!" his voice follows me as I run out into the black night, fear biting at my heels.