playdead

Chapter Nineteen

Chase Williams, age 13. Secret government spy. Ladies man. Billionaire entrepreneur. Classy man.

Chase had a weird imagination. When he woke up the next day, on Saturday, he imagined himself being 007, killing bad guys and making sweet love with beautiful girls.

Chase rubbed his eye and sat up on his bed. The warm sunlight shined through the closed window blinds. Chase grabbed his glasses and put them on, and blinked a bit.

"Boo-yah." Chase said to himself.

He got up and lifted his blinds, revealing his neighborhood and the warm and welcoming morning sunshine.

Chase went into the bathroom and showered for a bit. He brushed his teeth and flossed. His normal morning routine.

He changed into regular clothes, denim overalls with a bright colored long sleeved shirt. He put on his Vans and tied them. He went to the bathroom and did his blond hair into a (sort of) liberty spike deal.

"There he is. Glowing Chase Williams." Chase said to the mirror, smiling.

Although he was smiling, he felt melancholy.

He felt sad.

He was the class clown. The loser. The clown. Put a red nose on him and you wouldn't notice a difference.

Chase's smile slowly melted into a little frown. He used this comedic facade as a shield from the sadness he carried around. He used it so people wouldn't be like "Who's that drama queen?" or "Shut up about your sadness, kid. You're a man. You can't cry. You're tough. Get over it."

Chase stood at the mirror for a few more minutes. He wondered what his life would be like if he wasn't trying to be funny. If he wasn't hiding his true character. People who avoid him. They'd avoid him and most likely think about him the same way they do now.

Chase sighed and turned off the lights in the bathroom, and closed the door. Auntie Lucky wouldn't be up yet. She works almost 12 hours every week day. She'll sleep until dusk, most likely.

Chase looked at the time. It was 7:23.

He went over to the fridge and grabbed milk, grabbed cereal, a bowl, and a spoon. He made himself a bowl of cereal and put everything back, and going to the telephone hanging on the wall.

Chase took a spoonful of cereal in his mouth and ate, and put it back on the counter. He grabbed a giant yellow phone book and looked in the S section.

"Let's see...Simon Simone? Nice." Chase said, chuckling.

Chase looked around more.

"Simon Sanchez? Probably. I'll take my gamble on that." Chase said. He dialed the number and held the phone on his shoulder, while eating more cereal.

Hrmmmmm...
Hrmmmmm...
Hrmmmmm...
Pck-ah!

"Hello?" Simon's voice went through.

"Hey! How's it going?" Chase said.

"Oh. Chase, right?" Simon asked.

"You betcha." Chase replied.

"Oh! Nice to hear from you, dude. What do you need?" Simon said.

"I was wondering if you'd like to ah...hang out today?" Chase asked deliberately.

"Of course! I'll call up everyone else." Simon said.

"Awesome. Meet me by that park by Kietzke. I think it's called uh...ah damn, what's it called? Like, Micheals Park?" Chase said.

"Probably. I don't even know." Simon said.

Chase chuckled. "Okay well, I'll see you there in like an hour maybe." Chase said.

"Alright. See ya then." Simon replied, and hung up.

Chase put the phone on the wall again. He went over to the TV and flicked it on with the controller.

That melancholy feeling was still with him.