Alan Price and the Colossus of Rhodes (The Nephilim Chronicles) (3 page)

Chapter 10

Alan patted the pocket that held
his wallet as he thought of all the money spent for the few hours he would be
at the dance. All the money and all the trouble he would be in when he got
home.

He drove carefully, making double
certain to follow all street signs. It was dark now and as Alan turned a corner,
he saw the parking lot to his school. It was already full with the last dance
attendees making their way into the school’s large gymnasium.

Alan took a long breath as he
pulled into the school’s parking lot. More than one eye caught sight of the
sleek black car and stopped to see who would exit. He glanced at himself in the
car’s rearview mirror one more time.

You can do this. You can do
this. You can do this. It’s like pulling off a Band-Aid. Just get out of the car.

But he couldn’t. He wanted to so
very desperately, but fear and angst had dominated his resolve once again. He
looked through the car’s dark tinted windows at the groups of students who had
come to admire the vehicle.

“Ahhhhh… this is ridiculous. Get
out of the car, ALAN,” he had hoped by talking to himself out loud it would
help, it didn’t.

Seconds ticked by, then minutes.
Those who had stopped to admire the car began to walk away. Confused looks
crossed over their faces as they headed for the gym doors and the music that
could be heard playing inside.

Chaperons walked the perimeter
monitoring against any underage drinking. Alan looked at one of the adults in
particular and was shocked to see Dr. Larson dressed in a modest black dress
saying “hello” to students as they passed by.

Dr. Larson only visited the school
once a week to meet with her patients. Since Alan’s high school had so many
students in need of psychiatric care, Dr. Larson had volunteered to make the
trip instead of making the students travel individually to her office in the heart
of the city. In return, the school allowed her use of the receptionist and an
office of her own.

Before Alan could stop himself
,
he reached for the car handle and opened the door. He forced his legs to step
outside. The night was cool and a breeze began to blow. Alan ignored all the
looks from his classmates. Instead, he kept his eyes focused on the doctor and
concentrated on putting one foot in front of the other.

Dr. Larson looked at him and
smiled. Then she really looked at him and an expression of shock and
realization crossed her face. “Alan? Alan, is that you? You came!”

Alan may have been worried or
offended had it not been for the smile that crossed her face next. He beamed
with pride at her words.

“Yes—well—I thought
about what you said. About how I could actively do something and I decided to
take your advice.”

“Well, I’m so glad you did.”

Alan stood smiling, looking up at
the woman who he had met with once a week for the past few months. In a weird
kind of way she was his only friend, or at the very least the person who came
closest to being a friend. Music blared from inside the gymnasium, students ran
up the few steps eager to be inside but Alan thought he could stand and talk to
the doctor for the rest of the night given the opportunity.

“Oh, where’s your boutonnière?”

“Who? Oh, I don’t have a date.”

The doctor smiled, “No, the flower
that goes on your coat.”

Alan kicked himself mentally. It
was not only too late but he was out of money for the flower he could only
guess would be expensive. As more students passed inside Alan noticed all the
male attendees with bright colored blossoms matching their date’s attire.

“Oh—I—guess I forgot. I
don’t have one.”

Dr. Larson didn’t miss a beat.
Reaching over the short railing that ran parallel with the steps leading into
the gymnasium, the doctor plucked a white rose from the bush. Producing a pin
from her hair, she motioned Alan forward.

“You see? If you are willing to
take a leap of faith, things will begin to work out.” She said this as she
pressed the flower to Alan’s jacket and placed the pin perfectly, anchoring the
rose on his jacket.

Alan could feel the blood rush to
his face. The doctor’s soft touch against his chest made him clear his throat
and swallow as if it were some kind of allergic reaction.

“There you go, Alan, you look
great.”

“Thanks.”

“Well, don’t start getting cold
feet now. You are doing so well. I’m proud of you, Alan. Now get inside and
have some fun.

Chapter 11

The gymnasium was decorated from
floor to ceiling in yellow, green, blue and pink. Alan couldn’t help but think
that Dr. Seuss had been employed to make the event come to life. Despite his
own misgivings about the décor, everyone seemed to be having a great time. A
live band covered the latest hits on stage; there was a table set up with
refreshments and balloons lay across the gym floor in every direction.

Alan stood by himself soaking in
the scene. It wasn’t something he had dwelt on for any length of time but once
or twice before he had wondered what a school dance looked like, now he knew.

“Hey, was that your car? The Benz?”

Alan had to stop from jumping as he
turned to see who had spoken to him. Her name was Amber Jacobson, she was
Alan’s grade and tonight she was wearing a short pink dress with a plunging
neckline.

“Ummm… yeah well, it’s borrowed but
I drove it here.”

“Nice, car. You look familiar. Do I
know you? Do you go to school here?”

Alan raised an eyebrow, “Yeah, I’m
Alan.”

Amber starred back at him with a
blank look.

“Alan Price. We’ve both gone to
this school since we were freshmen.”

No look of recognition passed
across the young blonde’s face. She shrugged as she waived to someone behind
Alan. “Oh okay. Well, cool car. I’m gonna go catch up with my friends but maybe
we can take a spin sometime or hangout later tonight.”

“Yeah, yeah okay.”

Amber was gone in the next few
seconds running in her high heels to catch up with a group of girls that may
have well been her clones.

Alan stood shocked. He hadn’t even
been to the dance for a full minute before a girl had approached
him
for
the very first time, ever.

Is this really how easy it was? Were
expensive clothes and an expensive haircut all I needed to be noticed?

Alan kicked himself for not trying
anything like this before. For the first time in a very long while Alan felt
good, he felt great. In place of the depression and anger was a sense of
accomplishment. Even if the rest of the night turned out to be him sitting by
himself, he had done enough. That small exchange with Amber was more pleasant
socializing than he had done with anyone that entire month. And, she had
approached him.

Alan couldn’t help but smile as he
walked to the punch bowl and poured himself a glass of the red sugar water. He
wasn’t even thirsty but it seemed like the thing to do next. The drink touched
his lips and ran down his throat, making his taste buds pucker at its
sweetness.

The lights in the gymnasium were
dimmed with a classic disco ball sending tiny rays of light in every direction.
It was while he was getting ready to leave the refreshment table that he
noticed Jennifer Richardson and Brent Carson approaching with their clique of
cheerleaders and jocks.

In a heartbeat, all the good
feelings and joy that Alan had felt were gone. His hands started to sweat as
the group looked at him with a confused expression then stared open-mouthed in
his direction. Brent was the first to speak. “Alan, is that you?”

Alan couldn’t bring his dry throat
to say a word so he nodded instead.

“Oh my gosh, dude, what happened to
you?”

“I decided to come to the dance,”
Alan hated how his voiced squeaked out the response.

“Yeah, I can see that. Who are you
here with?”

“Nobody.”

“Come on, Brent,” Jennifer said
giving Alan a look of surprise while leading her boyfriend away from Alan with
a gentle tug. “You said you were going to get me something to drink.”

“Yeah okay. I’m just tripping out
on this nerd right now. You do realize you’re still a loser, right Price? Fancy
clothes and a haircut won’t change that. You know you’re nothing, you’re less
than nothing.”

Alan will never know what came over
him in that moment. Maybe it was all the sugar in his punch. Maybe he was still
high on the feeling Amber gave him when she walked up to him and initiated a
conversation. Maybe it was all the years of ridicule and belittlement he had
endured. Whatever it was, it pushed Alan over the edge. “You get off on making
fun of other people. I’m not sure why. Maybe you honestly think you are better
than everybody else is. I think that maybe deep down inside you’re insecure.
Does it make you feel better about yourself as a human being to degrade other
people?”

The entire group, including Alan
stood stunned. The band still played on in the background but all attention was
on Alan and Brent. More and more students stopped to look, first stunned to witness
Alan Price at the dance, next eager to see what the confrontation was about.

Brent’s face started to turn red. A
single vein bulged out of his neck ready to pop through his skin.

Alan didn’t remember the first fist
that hit him but he did feel the second, third and fourth as he regained
consciousness. Brent Carson was on top of him raining down blows to his head
and upper body. Alan did his best to shield his face but the blunt impact of
each blow was more than enough to penetrate any defense Alan could put between
him and his attacker.

Soon Brent’s buddies joined in
sending kicks that collided with Alan’s ribs and legs. Laughs, shouts and
screams could be heard over the noise now. Looking back, Alan would remember
that night as a haze, except for the part that came next.

The dance’s chaperones must have
seen or heard the commotion. In a few seconds, which seemed more like minutes
to Alan, Brent and his friends were backing away as Dr. Larson and a few other
adults made their way to Alan’s side.

“Enough! Get off of him now!” Dr.
Larson’s voice rang out strong and firm even causing the band to stop in the
middle of a song.

Alan was coughing, his face pressed
against the gymnasium’s cold wooden floor. His insides felt like a Spartan army
had trampled them. He struggled to sit up. As he gained a seated position, he
looked up into Dr. Larson’s face and the faces of possibly the entire school.

If it was possible, Alan’s heart
dropped even further. Dr. Larson was by his side accompanied by two other
members of the dance’s chaperon party, all wearing the same expression Tony had
earlier that morning. An expression that said, “Yes, I am sorry for you, but
most of all I wish you could be different.” In their eyes, Alan saw it all;
pity, disappointment and the longing that he could be something more than
helpless.

There was murmuring all around him
but one voice Alan caught through the crowd rung out the loudest in his ears.
It was Amber Jacobson. “I can’t believe I was going to let that zero take me
out, even if he does have a nice car. What a joke.”

Alan was brought back to his waking
nightmare by Dr. Larson as she placed a gentle hand on his shoulder. “Alan?
Alan, can you hear me? Are you all right? Do you need to go to the hospital?”

Alan struggled to his feet. Looking
down to the tuxedo that was supposed to change everything, he saw that the
expensive fabric was ripped and covered in punch and his own blood. “No, I’m
fine.”

“Alan, we should really get you
checked out. You’re bleeding. I think—“

“I said I’m fine!” He didn’t mean
to yell but when he did, a hush covered the gathered crowed. In every direction
Alan looked, he saw the same expression, pity.

Alan had tried. He had done
everything now. He had hoped that he could overcome his depression. He had
hoped so desperately that he had done things that night that he never would
have thought possible before, and he had failed.

Blood still coming from his lip and
pain oozing out of a dozen different locations across his body, Alan walked towards
the front entrance. A path parted for him as dance attendees cleared away from
him as if embarrassment and humiliation were contagious.

Alan reached the front entrance
slamming down on the metal bar that released him from the gymnasium and the
nightmare he just endured. It was cold. The wind had picked up and now threw
gust after gust at him. Alan was given a physical reminder of the blows Brent
and his accomplices subjected him to only minutes before.

What did you think was going to
happen? You’re an idiot for thinking that anything would change. This is your
life. This is never going to get better.

Alan opened the car door, pressed
the ignition button and stomped on the gas. Pulling out of the school parking
lot, he could see Dr. Larson exiting the gymnasium. Her head was turning in
every direction searching for him. Better than anyone else, she knew what he
might do next.

During their counseling sessions
Alan had been careful to never use the word “suicide,” however he had brought
up the idea of freedom more than once. Not necessarily victory, but freedom
from the constant grinding battle to be normal, freedom from his depression,
anger and loneliness, for it all to be gone.

Alan sped out of the parking lot
and lost sight of the doctor. He knew what he had to do now. He knew what he
could do. Just as he had rationalized taking Tony’s car, he could rationalize
himself now to take his own life. He had tried everything.

Chapter 12

Alan made his way to the downtown
section just a few miles from the high school. His cell phone rang on and on in
his pocket before he pressed the button to silence its vibrations.

He didn’t even have to look to see
who it was. He knew Dr. Larson would be calling him. She would probably even
call Tony and the police if he didn’t answer. This didn’t bother Alan at all.
He parked in the structure that led to one of the tallest office building in
the business section of the city.

Suicide wasn’t a daily thought that
ran through Alan’s mind, still he thought about it enough to know that if the
time ever did come, a jump off a tall building would be the best way to go.

It was late and no one besides a
security guard was in the building’s brightly lit lobby. Alan walked across the
manicured lawn and decorative statues to the glass door. Without hesitation, he
pulled open the door and walked through the immaculate lobby.

Alan was so far past the point of
caring he didn’t even give the security guard a second look as the large man
addressed him, “Hey, can I help you?”

When it was apparent that Alan
wasn’t going to stop, the security guard stood up from his seat and spoke
louder. “Hey, you. You can’t go back there.”

Still Alan didn’t skip a beat. He
walked straight to the shining elevator doors. His right thumb made contact
with the button sporting an arrow pointing up. A short chime greeted him as
elevator doors slid open on cue.

Alan could hear the security
guard’s running footsteps on the tile as the man spoke into his walkie-talkie.
“Hey, Bob, we got an intruder. He just entered elevator—“

That was all Alan caught as the
doors slid shut and he pressed another button directing him to the top floor.
Elevator music played in the background as the steel box ascended to the highest
floor. Alan couldn’t help but notice the white rose the doctor had provided
closely resembled his own state. The white petals were crumpled and wrinkled.
Red dots of his own blood scattered themselves around the flower like the disco
lights at the dance. “Hang in there, little guy,” Alan said to the flower.
“It’s almost over.”