“Quincy And That Unusual Friend Of His”

 
By Brian Roberson
                                               

Prologue


Erik moved out of the way just in time to avoid the soccer ball. It sailed just inches past his head and landed in the bushes at the end of the lawn which divided his parents property with the next door neighbors. He laughed and went after the ball and dug it out from under the bushes, and kicked it high towards the other two kids next to the driveway. The ball landed and took a big bounce before landing in the red headed boy's hands who stood near the mailbox. He immediately kicked it right back to Erik. It was a cool, late August evening. The sun was just starting to set, so a languid, red light was starting to fall on everything. The cicadas were humming in the trees and crickets and other insects could be heard in all directions. The soccer ball landed right in Erik's arms. He then did a side ways kick and the ball shot right between the other two boys, and bounced off the side of his father's car with a metallic thud. The dark headed boy
kicked the ball right back.

Erik was a handsome lad, just three days shy of his eleventh birthday. He had very light blond hair just over his ears. He had a lean, sharp face. His eyes were cat- like slits that conveyed the boys intelligence and his warm sense of humor, both of which were copious. He had a slight smattering of freckles. He stood with a height of 4'9, and was lean and very fit. He and his parents were from Denmark. He came over with them to the United States when he was two, and moved into the red bricked, two story suburban Washington DC home where he now lived and played. His father worked at the Danish embassy.

"Aaron! Heads up !" Erik shouted. He then kicked the ball. It landed in the driveway and started bouncing towards the street, causing the other two boys to chase after it while Erik laughed with that unique, hearty laugh that he had.

The front door to the house opened and Erik's mother appeared in the doorway.

"Erik, it's getting late ! You need to finish up and come in soon!" She yelled in Danish.

"All right, Mother. I'll be right in!" Erik replied, also in Danish. Erik had lived almost all of his life in America, and had only visited Denmark a handful of times. In spite of this he spoke Danish fluently and with a flawless accent. He spoke English equally flawlessly, and with only the slightest trace of an accent. His parents decided to enroll him in regular public school when he had turned five. His grades were so consistently excellent, that his parents decided to enroll him in the elite Madera School, an elite private academy for the academically gifted children of the diplomats, defense industry moguls, and politicians who populated the area in which he lived. He started sixth grade there in three days, and he was very excited about that.

"Guys, I have to go in now!" Erik yelled. "Here kick the ball to me!"

The red headed boy kicked the ball towards Erik, but it veered left of him and started rolling down towards the street. Erik laughed and ran after it. It rolled over the curb and into the street. Erik was so focused on chasing the ball and retrieving it that he didn't see the car coming.

The car was traveling very fast, much faster then the ten mile an hour speed limit. It was being driven by a 16 year old boy who had just gotten the car for his birthday, and his drivers license too. He had passed his drivers test that day. One of his friends had gotten a bottle of vodka and a lid of Columbian Gold through his older brother. They, along with two other friends, had polished off half of the bottle of vodka, and were headed towards the old dirt road at the end of the street to smoke some of the weed and finish off the vodka. The police determined the car to be going at least forty miles an hour down the residential street.

Erik had been hunched over, trying to grab the ball when he got hit. The grill of the car smashed right into the side of his head. His body went flying right into the air like a projectile while the car screeched to a halt, and he landed a full 10 yards away, right next to the manhole cover. His limbs were all twisted in different directions, like a scarecrow that had been taken off of it's pole and flung to the ground. His head and face were both an unrecognizable mass of blood, brain matter, flesh, shattered bone, and hair. A pool of dark blood was rapidly forming under what was left of his head. He had been knocked out of his shoes, and his pants were halfway off. The boy who had been driving, got out of the car and stared in horror. The two boys in the driveway stood frozen, wide eyed, and were hardly breathing. The soccer ball came to a rest against the curb on the opposite side of the street. Neighbors were coming out of their houses and a woman's scream could be heard from an adjacent house. One of the boys in the back seat of the car vomited out of the window. Erik's mother came out, saw her son in the road, and slowly sank down into a sitting position on the landing, her face and mind both blank from shock. In one of the pine trees next to the house, a bird began to sing.

 

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