Collected Stories: Youth, Teen Drama

By Seth Giolle

These Collected Stories is tailored to youth and teens delving into various dramatic themes. There are three sections: Youth, Teen, and Mixed. Sub-Themes involve horror and Thriller.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Lulu.com
• Release date: Dec 23, 2013
• ISBN: 9781304741189

Seth Giolle

Seth Giolle was born on a small, rural farm in southeast Ontario. After Travelling throughout Canada in all its splendour, he once again makes Ontario his home.

Book preview

Youth

Toast

(1575 words – last count)

Please.

Ian grudgingly lifted the pillow from his head. Behind his brother’s dark form, the red lights on his digital, radio clock glowed bright.

It’s four thirty-three, runt, he groaned. Go back to bed.

But I’m hungry, Stuart pleaded, resting his hand on the front of his transformer’s pyjama top, and I can’t sleep when I’m hungry.

Ian groaned again. Stuart had just moved into his own room the week before, but the six year old had been in Ian’s room every night having seen ghosts, heard talking, or become hungry. Ian’s mother had told him to oblige his younger brother’s wishes for now. She’d assured him it was part of getting older, that being ten and getting his own room came with responsibilities. Ian had the impression she just didn’t want to get up in the middle of the night to deal with the runt herself.

Fine, Ian finally breathed, stripping off his covers and swinging his legs to the floor.

Ian’s feet found some green, plush slippers, and he shook his head sluggishly a few times before finally standing. He could tell his hair was badly twisted, but it wasn’t even five o’clock yet. There wasn’t anyone who mattered who was going to see anything, so he didn’t really care at that point. He just wanted to get his brother back to bed so he could return to his own.

Stuart’s hand in his, the pair headed downstairs.

Stuart nearly clung to his brother’s leg as they made their way to the top of the stairs and started down towards the kitchen. Though the yellow nightlights gave enough light for someone to see where they were going, they did leave some odd shadows along the walls. Natural wood took on an eerie glow, and what were normally friendly-looking family photos became something large and twisted to Stuart’s small eyes.

Come on, Stew, Ian beckoned tiredly, pulling his brother’s attention from the walls and back to the steps before them. Let’s do this, already.

Stuart nodded wide-eyed and focused on each step, one at a time. At the bottom of the steps, he waited, and Ian came down just behind him taking his hand again and leading his brother down the warm, plant-lined hallway and into the empty, new-age kitchen at its end.

Like the upstairs, yellow lights showed in the kitchen, and in their glow, the two boys could easily make out the outlines of their silver fridge and oven to the left of the door and the china cabinet and cans cupboard to their right. In the middle along the wall between the two sides were the double sink, curved counter top, and upper cupboards. In the middle the room itself central to it all was the island - five stools set around the curved, wooden stand.

The actual table was in the dining room. The kitchen was set up more for just what someone needed to get the cooking done or maybe a little snack. Stuart took a seat at the island while his older brother made his way to the fridge. He groggily pulled the door open and instantly shielded his eyes from the bright light.

What do you want anyway? he mumbled, rubbing his eyes and stifling a deep yawn. Stuart shrugged while rubbing his own eyes and resting his head on the island’s top.

Is there any roast left?

This isn’t supper, Stew.

I know, Stuart moaned, but I like roast.

Ian closed eyes and let his head fall back. It’s four thirty in the morning, Stew. I want to be sleeping right now, so what do you want?

Stuart started a sullen pout, and Ian closed his eyes.

Peanut butter?

Sounds good, Ian reasoned, closing the fridge again and rolling his eyes.

He made his way to the upper cupboards and pulled the peanut butter down, then taking out a knife from just below. He carried them over to the island before slipping off to the lower cupboards for the bread. He returned to the island a second later and started to make two sandwiches.

I’m not that hungry, Stuart noted with surprise.

Ian frowned. Am I supposed to just watch you eat? he asked, shaking his head forlorn. If I’m going to be up, I’d may as well get something out of this for myself too. Stuart thought for a moment, then, nodded. He watched Ian’s knife do its work like his eyes were already eating the peanut butter.

Okay, Ian grumbled. He slapped the bread slices together and handed Stuart his sandwich. Eat up, so we can get some sleep, okay? Stuart stared at the sandwich before him, then, up at his brother. Ian sighed. He took the sandwich back and cut it into halves.

Stuart smiled and dug into the first half. Ian shook his head, but his frown softened a little. He finished making his own sandwich and started eating. Beside him, Stuart savoured his first few bites. Ian regarded the ceremony suspiciously.

You act like you haven’t eaten a peanut butter sandwich before.

Stuart shrugged examining the sandwich in his hands quietly. He swallowed and leaned the sandwich half on the island top.

Fred Quelerman is a jerk.

Ian blinked a few times. What? he asked. Is Fred Quelerman eating your sandwiches at school, Stew?

No, his brother countered comically, rolling his eyes in an exaggerated fashion. Mom never makes me peanut butter for my lunch. How could eat them if I never have them?

Ian shook his head. Then why’s he a jerk?

Cause he calls me names, steals my markers, and puts them in the corner planter. I hate him.

Ian nodded and took another bite of his sandwich. You should try my grade, he rued, sighing deep. I got lost yesterday, and I’ve been there almost a year now, but I got lost on the way to class and ended up in an older grade class. They laughed at me, and then when I found my group, they laughed at me more. He sighed again, considered his sandwich, and picked at some loose bits of bread. Add to that the fact that my teacher has it out for me, he continued more inwardly taking another, careful bite. He keeps calling on me even when I don’t have my hand up, and I never have the right answer, but he always calls on me. He hates me.

Stuart screwed his face into a scowl. Seeing this, Ian shrugged.

I’ll live through it, Ian continued in a resigned voice. I’m not the only one. He picks on four of us, so we’ve taken to hanging out together at lunch.

Stuart took some more bites before moving into his second half. Licking his teeth, he smiled. You should change seats, so he can call on someone else thinking it’s you.

Ian smiled. Wouldn’t work, he countered. Mr. Drovin’s quick, but it’d be funny if it worked.

What about putting a tack on his chair? Stuart asked. Or, maybe throwing a big spit wad at him? Peter did that last year, and Mrs. Chang never called on him ever again.

Ian laughed and regarded his brother in disbelief. His laughter became a knowing smile. That’s been done. To be really effective, it would have to be something new, something no one’s done before.

Stuart nodded slowly. He took a few more tentative bites. He raised his finger once. The idea obviously slipped from his mind as quickly as it had come, and he settled into eating again. Ian finished off his sandwich and leaned back to quietly wait for his brother to finish as well. Pausing again, Stuart glanced across.

Do you miss our room?

Ian traced some circles on the island top, shrugging. A little, he admitted, but the new room’s kind of good too, so I like it as much as I don’t. Stuart’s eyes went from wide to a squint several times as he digested his older brother’s answer. Frowning, Ian leaned forward again. Don’t you like having room for your Lego track now? And what about the fact that you can sleep in now without my alarm waking you up? he asked. Stuart nodded distractedly. You see, there are some good things that have come from us having our own rooms. We each have more space to do our own things, but we still see each other and play games, right? Stuart shrugged. Ian shrugged too. Give it time.

Stuart ate some more and slowly finished off his sandwich. When his brother was finished eating, Ian wiped up the mess and put the bread, peanut butter, and knife away.

Stuart watched him work mulling a question over in his mind. As he brother came back from the sink, he took in a breath. Can we have a snack tomorrow night too?

I have a test the next day, Ian muttered. If I don’t sleep well before a test, I have no hope. Stuart nodded sadly, Ian shrugging. But the night after that might work. Stuart’s head and smile lit up. Ian smiled back. As long as we have enough peanut butter of course.

Stuart shrugged. Jam will do.

Dan, one of those friends from class, Ian said, told me he’s eaten strawberry-banana-jam sandwiches before. I’ve been wondering what they taste like. Stuart licked his lips. Ian took him by the shoulder and led him back upstairs.

I can’t wait.

Brothers

(4847 Words)

The single stone became one of twenty that slipped down over the side of the road into the low gulley that made for a ditch. A large portion of loose granite and gathered shale then consequently vanished with a good chunk of dusty dirt. Sam’s foot was propped on an angle from where he’d kicked that first single stone. He kept it there watching that small sinkhole form under his foot up to his heel before stepping back wide-eyed.

Devon watched this happen in utter disbelief. He yanked his brother back further into the main road. When would Sam ever learn? Wait a minute. What was he thinking? Sam never learned.

I told you not to kick that stone, Devon growled.

Sam offered his brother a pitying frown. He then grinned and ran to the exact middle of the road and started jumping about in feigned panic. Oh, no, hurry, save me big brother. Please, he cried, Devon curling his upper lip. Sam was the only eight year old Devon knew who acted more like he was five nine times out of ten. And Sam was his brother. Lucky him. Devon was never so immature at that age. I’m falling, Sam wailed, and I can’t get up. Sam broke into fits of laughter. Come on, he goaded, arms spread wide. We’ll hear anything before it comes at us on out here.

Devon grudgingly peered left to right. The logging road stretched on for what seemed to be forever with tall pine trees growing on either side. And that dry, chalky dirt road was full of more pot holes and wheel ruts than the moon. And then some. A whole league of ninja couldn’t get near them out there without being heard or seen a mile off.

What he wouldn’t give for a league of ninja to try.

That would be kind of cool.

What does it matter if I kick a stone and make another hole in this road? Sam pressed with a hoarse groan. And I’m more likely to die of boredom than to hurt myself in some stupid ditch. I’m not that lucky.

Mom and dad’ll blame me if I let anything happen to you, Devon countered with a testy scowl.

Sam’s mouth dropped open. A hand came up in mocked horror. Devon closed his eyes and mouthed unspoken words. Maybe he should have pushed his brother forward into the newest hole, not pulled him back from? What had he been thinking?

At twelve, Devon was ready to be an only child.

What did Sam ever do for him? Really? Devon chose to clear his throat instead of voicing those thoughts. Sam would just turn them into a joke anyway. Where were those ninja when you needed them? Seeing Glandy’s tail wagging above some small ferns in the opposite ditch, he heaved a relieved sigh.

You too, Devon groaned. Don’t find any skunks this time, he called across. Come on, girl. Get out of there. The small collie popped its head up and barked. Devon whistled and slapped his knees. She jumped a few broken logs and bounded over to him receiving a good bit of petting and instant praise licking Devon’s hands and face in return.

Don’t make me put this leash on you, okay? Devon urged, lifting the brown leather leash he carried in his right hand as he spoke. Glandy barked in response as if she understood what he’d said. Good girl. At least you listen to me, he added, Sam acting overly heart-broken, then, frowning and walking on. Devon sneered. He gave the collie a quick treat before pushing her off and throwing a stick he found under foot.

She ran off to fetch it, and Devon followed after his brother.

I wish we’d gone with Uncle Tim and Aunt Pam, Sam grumbled. At least there, we could be swimming already.

Or jumping bikes, Devon agreed tiredly. I hear they’ve put up an archery range.

The boys locked eyes, then, gazed off in different directions giving the old logging road and surrounding trees a sceptical, unimpressed appraisal. Devon didn’t disapprove of his brother’s boredom and disdain with their surroundings. He just didn’t approve of his brother. No one could blame him that.

I bet they’re getting a fire going right now, Sam mused wistfully. I can see Aunt Pam walking out with the marshmallow sticks, Eddie getting his guitar out, oh, and Luke picking his nose.

They locked eyes again, this time to smile. Devon could see that too. Luke would call out a flavour each time at that. It was gross but entertaining at the same time. A woodpecker called above.

Why can’t dad just apologize already? Sam added with an exaggerated, helpless gesture.

Cause he shouldn’t have to, Devon cut across.

Glandy was back and leaning onto Devon’s left leg. He took the stick back and threw it again. Sam turned to argue. Devon just walked past him. He wasn’t going to give his brother the chance to be right. Even if he was.

I’m just saying, Sam intoned, sticking out his tongue between words, that if he did, we’d be there right now, not stuck in some cabin time forgot out in the middle of this stupid forest. What are we supposed to do here anyway? Wrestle bears?

Devon stopped. He found himself shrugging even against his better judgement. Sam shook his head. He stopped and rather sarcastically smiled copying the gesture. Devon furrowed his brow. His brother was a gnat. Maybe Sam was adopted? His parents kept denying it, but Devon was sure something was up.

The sun was bright. And hot. A little wind would be nice. Even in shorts and a tee, Devon was overheating. He tried willing those tall tree tops to move. Damn. There wasn’t anything beyond a soft whisper. He ran a hand through his short, brown hair and closed his eyes.

A hot, dry day in the middle of nowhere with no one but his little brother for company simply didn’t satisfy. Devon took a drink from his canteen before walking on again, wiping his brow, then, hanging the canteen as his side again.

Glandy bounded up to Sam this time. Pausing in his drink, Sam threw the stick for her. The stick went wide. It ricocheted off a tree across the road and vanished into the thick of the forest.

Great shot, Devon rued.

Shut up, Sam spat. He whistled and called Glandy back where she crouched, poised to leap into the forest after her prize. At least I get the ball over the plate without wounding the ump.

Devon shrugged. He should’ve moved faster.

Sam smiled. He picked up a dusty, old stick from the roadside. Before he could throw it, something moved through the opposing brush, and Glandy’s head shot around. A quick, sharp bark later, she leapt in after it.

Damn, Devon called, running in after her. Dad’s going to kill us if we lose her out here.

Sam picked up a long stick to beat the brush back as he waded in after his brother. I didn’t let her off the leash, he reminded him. What? he asked, screwing up his face, Devon glaring backwards. I’m just saying it.

Devon prayed for something to happen. Anything.

The gnat needed swatting so badly.

--

Earl slapped at the fly. It buzzed off, and Earl hit the dashboard instead. The dashboard with its varied, jittery figurines was smoking hot in places, and Earl quickly withdrew his hand. He glared at the fly as it wove its way across the windshield into the back of the cab out of reach. Scowling, Earl rubbed his eyes and yawned wide, cracking his back at the same time.

Sitting behind the wheel, Cal sneered, then, stifled his own. He slapped Earl across the chest and pointed across. Earl swallowed hard and sneered back. He then smiled, sat back, and stretched again, Cal shaking his head.

It isn’t my fault if you don’t sleep well at night, Cal groaned. Just don’t be putting me down with all that yawning. Keep that to yourself. I don’t need any accidents today.

Earl grinned. He stretched one arm over the back of the passenger seat. The other lazily scratched at his thinning, black hair. I didn’t say I didn’t get good sleep, he yawned back, chewing on his next few words. I just said I didn’t much sleep. He laughed. Cal rolled his eyes. You should have seen her in that short top she had on, Earl added with a deep inhale. Of course, she looked better without. He laughed again.

I don’t know how you do it, Cal admitted tiredly. Most people around here end up with the ugliest or strangest dates ever. You somehow manage, he continued, the cab rattling sharply for a moment before returning to its usual, constant hum, to end up with the prime picks. He shifted gears. The chrome smoke stack released a small, dark cloud, and rig’s floor plate picked up a smoother vibration. The truck now fully in its newest gear, the stack’s top lip rattled shut again.

They took a sharp left turn. The trailer clasp rang out behind them. Chains, load, and steel complained as they rumbled over the potholes and loose shale with a thick, grey dust cloud rolling off into the forest as they passed. That dust cloud was soon trailing far behind. The cab rattled violently, but they made the turn, and Cal shifted gears again. They settled back into a straight-away, and the truck hum evened out once more.

Earl checked on the logs they were hauling. You aren’t supposed to take the turns on this road that quick, he warned with a sly grin.

And you’re not supposed to drink on the job.

Earl laughed and picked his silver coffee cup up from near the shifter. This is java, he insisted with a quick snicker. He took a sip, then, vigorously shook his head. It just has a heck of a kick is all, he added, one eye shut tight for a long second before shaking his head again. Besides, I’m not driving this trip, am I? What does it matter if I have a little java along the way? Cal frowned. Earl grinned and relaxed back once more. Watch for the deer.

Cal nodded and shifted down.

The deer bolted off into the forest. Damn animals, Cal muttered. With this weight, we don’t need any accidents.

Then slow down, Earl playfully urged. Cal ignored him. It’s where you look, Earl added with a relaxed shrug, and who you know. He glanced around the cab from the bobbing hockey players suction-cupped to the dash board to the beaded seat covers, weathered back seats, and wind-swept sun roof. And how you present yourself, he noted with a decisive nod.

Cal huffed comically. Like you’re prime real estate? he asked with a smirk. I’m not any larger or different than you are.

Earl sighed. Do you think I go into town like this? he asked, blinking hard. Cal tried to shake it off. I don’t wear plaid on a date, friend, Earl groaned. I don’t drive my beat up old truck to town either. That thing, certainly this thing, he rued, pointing around the cab and its many colourful, tacky distractions, wouldn’t get me any of the attention I go looking for. No, I have that Bronco for picking up girls, and it works if I dress up and smell just right.

Cal shrugged uneasily.

Your problem, Earl continued pointedly, is that you spent too long with Jessie. No, no, listen to me, he added, waving off Cal’s quick objection. She made you someone honest and straight-forward, and if you’re into that serious relationship thing, that’s great, but there aren’t many women in town that want serious relationships, not any that look pretty at least. How long was it with you and her? Earl asked, pensively tapping his chin. Ten years?

Eight, Cal grudgingly replied.

The road veered left, and Earl shifted down. He turned the wheel with a steady hand. They hit a dip, and the cab lurched. The logs pulled on the chains behind them, and the trailer, logs and all, strained, but the truck and its load rumbled on a moment later like nothing had happened.

That’s what I’m saying, Earl continued, taking another sip of his java. You’re rusty. When you’re picking up a girl, you don’t be honest. Do you actually think I introduce myself as a trucker for some back wood’s paper mill? Seriously?

Then who are you?

Usually? I like being a broker. It’s not as good as the agent, but with the agent, you need to be up to date with all the recent news about what the singers and actors are doing, right? My internet’s been down, so it’s tricky to pull that one off anymore. A stock broker’s a stock broker. A newspaper gives you all you need for that one. Anything with money - that’s the trick to getting them hooked. By the time they realize you’re taking them back to a cruddy, old bungalow, they’ve had so much to drink they don’t really care anymore, and then, there’s the next night’s adventures. Simple as that.

Cal slowed them down and honked the horn hard.

The couple standing off to the side of the road pulled their children back with them with apologetic smiles and over-eager waves. Cal cursed tourists and shook his head. Why did they allow them to put that resort place anywhere near working logging roads anyway? he grumbled. It won’t be long before one of us kills one of them. I can see it happening.

Earl offered a casual nod. So why the rush anyway? he asked, lazily rubbing his nose. Cal shrugged distractedly. Earl just laughed and shook his head. Come on, out with it, he goaded. You’re never in this much of a rush to get back to the mill. This isn’t even our last load of the day, so you can’t be looking forward to end of shift. What so hot around this run to have you giving it like you are?

Cal remained silent.

Not the weekend, nor pay day, nor end of day, Earl reasoned outwardly, it must be a woman to have you gripping that clutch so adamantly. Cal cleared his throat, grumbled, and eased up his grip on the clutch. A woman? Earl mused with a grin. Judging the guarded expression he saw on Cal’s face, he sneered and rolled his eyes. You can’t be serious? he groaned.

Leave it, Cal warned.

She’s called and asked you another loan, hasn’t she? Just like all the rest she’s never paid back. She left you a year ago to be with some bar keep in the next town over. Why can’t he help her with the rent payments and all that?

I said leave it.

Earl stared out the window for a moment. He then shook his head and sat up straighter. Your problem with getting new girls is you haven’t gotten over the old one, he countered. Cal picked the truck up into a higher gear. Earl was unaffected. Jessie’s gone, man, he growled, let her go and get someone who’ll do more than beg for money. She’s using you. That’s all this is now. Can’t you see that?

You don’t know what’s going on.

Clearly, Earl grumbled.

Clearly, Cal agreed sullenly. He shifted the truck back down, and they slowed for the next turn. The road picked up onto a tight grade. They wove upwards until straightening out and continuing on. When the pull and sway had stopped and everything was going fine, Cal just stared straight ahead with Earl grumbling quietly to himself.

--

A moss-covered log crossed over a meandering, babbling brook. Birds fluttered about in the treetops over head, and Glandy worked feverishly to get out of Devon’s arms. Give it up already, the twelve year old insisted. The collie lifted its head and licked his chin. That won’t get you out after that rabbit, he groaned, so you’d might as well give it up now.

The skinny, brown rabbit disappeared between the trees and low brush, Glandy barking after it. After a second’s silence except for the buzzing of bugs and chirping of birds overheard, she relaxed against his chest with her tongue out and gazing around while the boys navigated the stones and low branches weaving a rough path up hill. Devon turned to stare tiredly down. They’d reached the top of their given climb whatever that meant.

They may be out in the middle of nowhere, but there was a lot of nowhere to it.

Even standing at the top of their hill, all he saw was a lot more hills. Each was marked by pines for the most part. Three hills were exactly like theirs with snaking roads winding their way between those trees all the way to the top then down the other side. Most of the others were still untouched.

Except for two. They’d been clear-cut.

A river wove its way from far left to far right ahead of them. They were camped on the edge of that river. Seeing how long and big the river was from up there, he was slightly impressed. It was still a dry, chalky, boring lot of nothing broken by patches of nice green. But this camp their parents had dragged them off to now had one redeeming quality.

What is that? Sam asked, pointing down the hill ahead of them.

The hill dropped road by road the same way it had risen until it hit a wide, barren tract of beaten earth up against the distant river. There was only one bit of forest between the snaking logging roads on the other side of their mountain. They had a pretty good view of the square, white building that grew from one corner of that brown patch below, but a lot of the details were missing from that distance.

Devon rolled his eyes. How would I know? It’s not like I’ve been here before.

Sam smiled mockingly and started down the other side of the hill they’d climbed. Clearly, whatever this building was Devon rued, they’d uncovered