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I am currently working on a project (a short story) with a cool name..."Lock Jaw" pretty cool right? (＾3＾♪ Any way...I guess y'all deserve a sneak peak so...here you are
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LOCK JAW
-Prologue-
July 4th, 1963
In the quiet neighborhood of a rural town, the sun was sitting below the empty horizon. It wasn’t the best place to live, but it was like Once you were born there, you stayed there. You worked with your family's business, and you knew everyone. A Humble town with not a lot to do but drink and sit on your lawn chair. You could look up into the sky and dream you could go to other places, like New York...travel the world, maybe become famous. But the best you could become here was the town's mayor, I guess. One thing that brought everyone together was praying in church and the rare festivals that the city council would use their extra budget on. They made sure they saved up enough in their piggy bank for the 4th of July. The only time of the year when kids get to be loud past ten and there wasn't an excuse to be upset. At least that’s what it was like for everyone else except for one man, Cooper Nelson and his beautiful wife, Annabelle. They were known as the two high school sweethearts that always had their hands on each other. They had a quaint little house on the edge of town, it still needed renovation, but it was the only big milestone that the two would really ever have. "Are you sure you don't want to come?" Annabelle looks down at her husband slouched on the couch with her hands on her hips. "I wish I really could, honey but I'm exhausted...it would be better if I got some rest." He exhaled and tried not to smile at his wife's pout. "You have fun without me alright?" Cooper adds, getting up to give Annabelle a sweet kiss. "Love you, don’t get into too much trouble." He retorts as Annabelle laughed reaching for the door handle. "I promise, I love you!" She closes the door; the house is filled with silence he didn't know he'd have to get used to forever. Annabelle sighs and looks at the clear night sky, adjusting her headband and hopping down the porch stairs to go wait on the curb. With her elbows resting on her knees and looking on both ends of the road, she looks for any signs of her friend, Julia’s car. Not long after, she spots headlights from a close distance, she gets off the curb and waddles over to the car pulling up. Julia rolls down the window and pokes her head out. “Cooper isn’t coming?” Julia spills out, her breath smelling like she’s definitely been drinking. Annabelle’s eyebrows furrow at the scent and Julia’s behavior, looking back at her house. “Uhm…no, he’s just been so busy, y’know…he’s exhausted.” Annabelle explains while going around the car and sliding into the passenger seat. “Ugh, yes finally a girl’s night!” Julia shouts, overlapping with the sound of the engine growling and screeching. While on the road, Annabelle nervously rubs her legs together, “A-are you sure you can drive Julia? You seem pretty…uhm.” Annabelle croaks, trying not to sound judgmental. Julia looks at Annabelle and just laughs. "I'm fine, I can drive." She brushes off, still looking at Annabelle. "Julia keep your eyes on the goddamn road you're gonna get us killed." Annabelle’s tone was now strict and worried, Julia wasn't listening, the wheel started to turn, the car was headed straight for the ditch near a telephone pole, Annabelle’s eyes widen in fear. "JULIA-" Annabelle's scream of her name was followed by a piercing sound of tires screeching and the loud collision of the pole crashing into the car. Cooper didn't know. He was in the kitchen, fixing himself his wife’s leftovers from last night’s dinner until he heard a knock on the door. A strong one that was definitely not Annabelle’s. Cooper shuffles to his front door, embarrassing only in his boxers and tank top. "Can I help you...officer?" Cooper was confused, he lightly chuckles. "Are you Cooper Nelson?" the officer asked. He nods. "We are sad to inform you that your wife was in the passenger seat of...." Everything after that was muffled by ringing in Coopers ears. This was all too fast. Annabelle was dead.
6 years later, October 6th, 1969 ------------------------------------------------------
A bottle of liquor hits the old, stained floor, echoing through the empty house. Cooper squints awake and groans. His body aches from the hangover and sleeping on that stone of a couch. Everything has gone right downhill after Annabelle’s passing. Cooper once a fit young man, has gained weight and hasn’t changed out of his pajamas since God knows when. His golden locks are slowly losing the border of his hairline, and his face is starting to wrinkle in the corners of his eyes and between his eyebrows. He sat up, his socks squishing into a plate last night’s attempted meal, gross. Cooper grimaces and holds his head low, what did he let himself become. He glances at the wall, a picture frame of him and Annabelle on their wedding day. His eyes water at the thought. The couch creaks as he forces himself off the couch, but his body was like a boat to an anchor. But He needs to get something in his body other than a cigarette and beer he thought. Cooper mopes towards the kitchen, a waste land, dishes haven’t been done in weeks, it reeks, the floor is sticky and there’s probably things living in the cabinets. He swings the fridge open. There is nothing but a can of beer and an old block of cheese sitting on the top shelf. Cooper scans the fridge once more and makes a disturbed face. It was until then he hears the phone ring, he shuts the fridge and takes as much time as possible to walk over to the phone. “Hello?” He exhales. On the other line was a familiar voice yet Cooper couldn’t lay a finger on who it was. “Hey man.” A raspy and laid-back voice can be heard. Cooper blinks a couple of times before answering, “It would be helpful if you told me who you were…” The man on the phone laughs. Cooper knows that laugh, very well. “Dutch??...wh- wait why are you calling me??” Coopers’ eyes widen, he hasn’t heard that laugh since high school. Dutch and him used to go around, swimming in the lake and breaking the rules, they were tight until Cooper locked eyes with Annabelle. Cooper slightly smiles, he hasn’t in a while, as he waits for another response from Dutch. “I heard you were trying to get a job at Johns repair garage…” He pauses to take a bite of food before continuing his sentence with his mouth full, “You know that he barely hires anyone man c’mon.” Dutch chuckles, did he just call Cooper to say that? “Your point being?” Cooper questions. “Well, I was thinking, what do you think about working for me? I know you’re in a rough spot right now and I need some things fixed up.” Dutch explains. Cooper is second guessing, he hasn’t been that social in these past few years…but he glances back at his fridge, remembering how bare it was. “How much are you paying?” Cooper asks. Dutch hums. “How about start with ten bucks an hour…hm?” This was something Cooper never saw coming. His childhood best friend called him to fix some junk in his yard for an exchange of cash. He wasn’t complaining, but at the same time… Cooper hasn’t seen Dutch in years. It’s hard to know what he was going to look like after all this time…Cooper wonders if Dutch is thinking the same thing. If he was, he’s not going to be too pleased with how Cooper turned out. Or who am I kidding! Dutch probably looks worn out too if not more than he has. He draws his attention down to his attire, seeing stains on the once minty white tank-top turned into more of a yellow tinted one, his teeth were the same. Cooper didn’t even bother to peek at the mirror in the bathroom before he hops in the shower. He audibly yelps as the cold water attacks his back like bullets. Once this job starts hopefully, he can start paying the heating bills again. As he sits in the shower, he holds his hand up to look at the ring he kept on. It’s been a long time since her passing yet he still feels like she just died yesterday. After He scrubs most of the looming sadness of his body, it was time to pick out something else to wear. He looks in his closet, he is not young anymore, what do people in their mid-thirties wear? After some rummaging, he settles on an old flannel, and some washed out jeans. Ah, yes this will make him look cheerful and fun to talk to for sure! What was left…he just needed a tool kit. He definitely had one if he remembered... it was placed right beside his tackle box, he just needed to make a trip to his garage. In there, he kept that thought in his head, repeating it over and over. Ah, there it was. After a quick scan he found the rusted toolbox right where he remembered it hugged by a sheet of dust. Of course, he got ready early in the morning for a thing he had to go to in the afternoon! Now he had to just sit and wait on his couch with his toolbox sleeping on his lap, listening to the ticking of his broken clock and his heartbeat for enough hours. For the first time in six years, he was itching to go somewhere. So then there was the idea. He reaches over the couch and dials Dutch. He holds the phone and somehow gets tangled in the telephone line; he curses to himself silently. He couldn’t believe he was actually doing this. “Yo,” Dutch answers. No backing out now, he had to ask. “Hey, uhm…y’know we have time to kill and all that, why don’t we go grab a bite, maybe at Charlie’s or something?” Cooper almost chokes when he askes that but, Dutch is all for the idea in fact. “Oh yes, that sounds lovely” Dutch mocks a British accent sounding like a lady, still has that stupid sense of humor. The drive down was, pleasant and somewhat calmed Coopers nerves. It was nice to know that nothing had changed in this town since he’d been hidden away, nothing he hadn’t missed out on. Cooper knew this place on the back of his hand even after being absent for so long. Like a bicycle, you never really forget how to ride it once you’ve learned. The rural scenery was covered with a low mist of fog and bitter breeze that bit the tips of your fingers. This was home, but home brought back memories…memories of Annabelle. It seemed that Charlie’s hadn’t changed either, Cooper wonders if there was the same old brittle lady working there. Cooper prepares his hand to grip the cold metal handle of the door. A rush of warmth ran down his body and oh, the chime of the bell above him. How nostalgic. He takes a seat in one of the booths. The table was sticky and the leather wrapping around the cushion was cracked and washed out. Cooper used to play a game when he was a kid, how many things you could stick to the menu. He also used to pick at the cracking leather, good times. Cooper nervously looks around and bounces his knees up and down. When was this oaf going to show up? But then it came to thought that Dutch was probably going to be late. He sighs and starts to pick at the leather. His therapeutic picking got interrupted by a chime of the bell and a loud call. “Cooper!” Dutch chuckles and walks over to give him a reuniting hug. They hold it there for a while, swaying a bit. Cooper pry’s back his head to take a glance at Dutch’s features. His eyes were drooped down, and his skin was rough, everything supported by a lopsided lazy smile. He sure aged like fine wine. Cooper, more when stale. They both pull away from the embrace, Dutch’s hand lingering on Coopers back as they slide into the booth seats. Cooper didn’t really know where to start, Dutch either. But more Cooper didn’t know how to sound interesting and Dutch…well he didn’t know where to start to catch his friend up on things. There is nothing but ambiance of the restaurant while their lips never moved, except Dutch’s undying smirk plastered on his face. Finally, the waiter came around to take orders, jumpstarting each other’s throats. Dutch’s mouth seems to run like a motorboat after that, going on and on about his exciting life. While he was yammering, Cooper just lends an ear with the occasional hum or nod between gingerly sips of his coffee. Dutch had never been this thrilled to have a meal with his old friend. Even if he didn’t speak much and had that terrible somber expression on his face, Dutch was through the roof. It was going to be just like old times…times before Cooper met the love of his life. Dutch was determined to get his best friend back. No Annabelle, no thoughts of Annabelle…just everything like it was. That was going to be presumably hard, Cooper has always been stubborn as a bull, never skipped class and always defended his point through rain or shine. A hard contrast between Dutch’s carefree and it is what it is mindset. A while after Cooper finished his coffee and Dutch was done with his stories, the two walk out in the cold. “You seriously walked all the way here?” Cooper remarks and shoves his hands in his pockets. Dutch was immune to the elements; he could wear shorts in a blizzard and say that it was gorgeous outside. “Yeah? It’s not even that bad out c’mon.” Dutch scoffs, hopping into the car with Cooper. The car rumbled after a few goes and they were off. Dutch whistled and played drums on the dashboard, of course he was still insufferable. “Quit that.” Cooper grumbles, whacking him on the shoulder. Dutch winces dramatically, grabbing his arm. He howls in laughter; everything was going in Dutch’s direction. The car slowly pulls up into a driveway of one of the many thousand trailers in this park. Every tin roof was the same, but if you looked closely, it was like every house was like a person, customized in dents, dirt and junk that surrounded the borders. Dutch’s house had chapped paint stained by the sun, the storm door was hanging on by a thread of a screw and when Cooper was welcomed inside, his nose was punched with a strong smell of cigarettes. Cooper looks around before being offered a seat on the couch. He politely sat while Dutch dives headfirst. The sofa was soft but not in a comfortable way, it was unsupported, and you sank right down till you could feel the springs pinching your back. Cooper was here to do a favor…which was going to probably get delayed since Dutch was so eager to visit with him. Cooper pats his thighs and takes a deep breath, signaling he wants to get to business. Dutch’s eyes raise, getting the cue. “Right, right…okay well if you follow me to the backyard…” He guides Cooper through a maze of boxes, clothes and bags that he had avoided like it was some obstacle course. Dutch fiddles with the back door, a thin sheet of plastic and mesh, revealing a small yard with a broken fence guarding heaps of old scraps, bikes and wheels. “The bikes are main priority, might take you an hour or few.” Dutch swirls his fingers in the direction of what he called bikes. He twists his head and raises his eyebrows giving him a flattened smile. “Have fun.” Dutch shuts the door. Silence. Cooper walks down the back porch. He better have a smoke so he can deal with this. He drops his toolbox and opens it to study the components inside. Taking a drag of his cigarette, he gets to work. Dutch occasionally looks out the window to spy on him, seeing Cooper fail and get frustrated was amusing to him. Once it seemed to take somewhat a shape of a bike, Dutch thought he needed a deserved break, since he was sweating out in the cold. “Hey.” Dutch walks over, physically feeling the chaos in the air. Cooper was so fixated on tightening the gears, that Dutch notices something…He didn’t have that woe frown and wrinkle between his eyebrows. Cooper was distracted from the thought of his wife. Dutch smiled fondly, and didn’t say another word. He figured he probably didn’t even notice him. It was night fall before they knew it. There’s a creak of the back door closing, Cooper huffs. The sweat and grime have turned cold. He goes back through the same obstacle course, finding Dutch passed out on the couch. He looked silly Cooper thought. With his mouth wide open, arms sprawled out. Cooper didn’t want to disturb his beauty sleep, so he rips a part of a magazine on his coffee table and leaves a note: Bikes are fixed. Be back tomorrow. He clicks the pen lid shut and confidently walks to go out the front door. Looking back at his sleeping friend he snickers to himself, going back one more time to lay a thin blanket over him. He felt comfortable and full for a moment, in the dark and only a few lights outlining Dutch’s features, his mind felt like he was tucking Annabelle into bed. Wait. No that’s not her, obviously…stop being an idiot. He was exhausted and thinking about thoughts that make no sense. The sick and old light beside the door was the only light guiding him to his car. He stumbles around, what a day. Cooper was exhausted, but not like usually where it was because he was dreading his existence. No, he worked hard today, he deserves to be tired. On the way home, he had a nagging buzzing in the back of his head, like he has forgotten something. Cooper squints and furrows his eyebrows, but it just seems like he- Cooper forgot to get paid. How on earth do you forget the main reason you worked for him in the first place! Whatever, it will motivate him to go back tomorrow. Dutch wakes up a few hours after, feeling a soft fabric he did not fall asleep with. He wipes the drool off his chin, and shakes his bed head, turning the near lamp on. He spots the note Cooper left…Dutch is surprised he didn’t stay but then again, they weren’t 12 anymore. They both had lives…well, not exactly if you count being successful. But it was obvious things were going to get a bit more interesting in their lives, they’ll be dead any day. The day after both had a good night rest, Cooper came around the same time. Of course, the first thing Cooper did was awkwardly demand the money while they were having a drink in the kitchenette. “So, uh…I walked on you passed out cold on the couch…I didn’t wanna wake you so I uh…can get the money now?” Cooper swirls around his beer, he didn’t know why he got so choked up about asking for things he needs or worse, wants. He had a fear of coming across as selfish because he never knew how to return. “Yeah, I noticed.” Dutch says with that stupid smug expression before setting his beer down to go and probably get the cash, leaving Cooper drowning in the awkward request. Why does he even have to pay him? He is his best friend, why shouldn’t he just do him a friend a favor? All these thoughts were going through Coopers head, his fingers grip the bottle tight. “And here is your hard-earned cash, my friend.” Dutch sings as he holds out a few wrinkled bills out to Cooper. “Thanks.” He grabs the money and pockets it. “I’m glad you got home safe last night.” Dutch sighed; this was an abnormal concern for him to have. Cooper glances at his friend, at first confused but then he barely smiled. He saw every color around him gain its vibrance again. He forgot how nice it feels to have someone who is worried for you. TO BE CONTINUED--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Thank you so much for reading!! Mwah!
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