It has been five installments since he last entered the ring. Miss me? (Mime hug.) I pun. I'm fueled for crumping!
...is an anagram for the 15 words I have missed over my 3ww hiatus. But I know you're not here for the anagrams, so on to the story, this is a "part two" of an earlier 3ww that resulted in many requests for a sequel. You can find part one here... Second Chance ... hope you enjoy.
“This is the school bus stop right?” The young Russell approached a blond girl he had known for years as ‘the neighbor’s daughter.’
“No I’m standing here ‘cuz I feel like it,” the girl hissed, texting in fluid motion.
“Sorry for the trouble little lady, was just a question.” Russell had long ago forgotten the art of conversing with pre-teens effectively. The glare of imminent doom told him she not only was unappreciative of the ‘little lady’ comment, but also doubly irritated for interrupting her texting concentration.
“I’m Russell.”
“That’s nice.”
He frowned, “I’m sorry I didn’t catch your name?”
“I didn’t give it.”
“OK I guess I’ll call you Miss Sheen.”
“How’d you know my last name?”
Russell nudged her, pointing down the road, “You live there, don’t you? You’re Dave and Kelly’s kid.”
“Kerrie. My mom’s name is Kerrie,” confusion engulfed the girl.
“That’s right, I could never get that right…”
“Are you some kind of stalker?” The girl squirmed with the discomforting feeling her privacy had been tampered.
“Seriously Miss Sheen if I were stalking you, I’d probably know your name.”
“Don’t call me Miss Sheen. My name is Ellison.”
“Nice to meet you, Allison.”
“Ellison. With an E.”
What kind of name was Ellison? Russell forgot what an immense feat it was to get information out of girls like Ellison. She was the type of girl twelve year old minded boys lusted after, texted love notes to, had difficulty speaking in front of. Russell was long beyond such angst, and his forward approach was something little Ellison Sheen was not used to. As soon as the bus turned the corner, any shimmer of friendship vanished and she resumed her proud, snobbish gait onto the bus. That’s right, can’t be seen talking to the new guy. At the least Russell felt absolved of the stalker label. Distancing himself from the ripened sweaty odor of the overweight driver, he sat on an unoccupied bench seat in the middle of the bus.
He confirmed the switchblade was still under his right sock, playing the motion off as an itch. If he was to diffuse a threat in the school, he needed something. It wasn’t much, but he wasn’t going to be the one to bring a gun into a Middle School. The jeans were baggy enough to show no sign of a concealed weapon.
“What do you plan to do with that?” A monotone voice said beside him. Russell glanced across the aisle to find the pale boy he had met two nights ago. The boy named Death.
“Fancy meeting you here,” Russell rolled his eyes.
“You are bringing a weapon to school.”
“Self defense. You and I both know self defense will be needed today.”
A boy with glasses in the seat behind Russell leaned over the backing, “Who are you talking to?”
“Oh, uh, no one. Just thinking aloud. Sorry.” Russell stared at Death across the aisle. Death spoke indifferently, “He cannot see me, only those whose time draws near can see me.”
“You shouldn’t talk to yourself. People will think you’re crazy,” the boy with glasses ridiculed before retracting into his seat.
“They’re bringing a gun, you’re bringing a knife. I hope you have a plan,” Death stated with an eerie calmness.
“It’s better than nothing. Can you tell me anything at all about…”
“No. That would be cheating.”
Russell sighed. The bus pulled into the unloading area at the school entrance. He and Death were quick to get off the bus. Russell stopped on the curb, overwhelmed at the scene of hundreds of kids greeting one another from their returns from summer break. The boy with glasses disembarked the bus, passing right through Death as if he were air, sending a shiver up his spine.
“There’s so many kids. Can’t even give me a hint?”
Ellison stepped out of the bus glaring a disgusted look towards Russell and his pale ‘friend,’ and stepped around Death towards the school.
Death squinted at Russell. Russell swallowed hard, “Ellison, come back!”
