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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1606724-Blood-By-Moonlight-Chapter-2
Rated: 13+ · Chapter · Drama · #1606724
So Darken your clothes, or strike a violent pose Maybe they'll leave you alone, but not me
  --Blood by Moonlight. Chapter Two: Salus School--

--<~*(__)*~>--

 
 
         Cathy Parker arrived at the Salus group home at a less-than prompt two-something-o'clock. She had never visited a group home and had expected something different than the property before her eyes. It was not a massive structure with razor-wire crowned brick fences, or large dorm-type structure or even a tall office building with social workers and prospective parents coming in and out. The estate was a reasonably large lot though, and separated into a two-story main building and two two-story guest houses behind it that were surrounded by the same kind of brick wall many of the other properties in the area had. There was not a gaggle of kids from different races running around or people walking in and out; only a brass plaque reading:  

Salus School
7550 S. Saxon Street
Headmaster: Sidney Decretum
Headmistress: Arina Mekovi
Established: 1996

 
         Cathy looked again to the address she had scribbled down after being spoken to by an officer named Ruby Hart. Ruby was from another precinct and said she did not want to cross boundaries, but a friend had asked her to deliver paperwork to the Salus School. Cathy looked up the address and saw that the school was also a group home, and the papers she had been given were an adoption application. She had no idea what to do with it other than deliver it to the school, so here she was and… now what?
 
         A man in his late forties opened the front door and strode down the front path. Cathy hurried to intercede him before he reached his car.
 
          “Um… hi,” she began. “Are you Mr. Decretum?”
 
         The man glanced at her, but did not stop as he neared the trunk of a forest green Impala. As he unlocked the trunk and put the papers into a cardboard box he replied,
 
          “Sorry officer, you’re looking for the man inside.” Cathy could now see that his car had a sign in the back window that had the Census logo on it and declared that the vehicle belonged to a census worker. “I just spoke to him though, so he’s home.”
 
          “What did you talk about?” Cathy asked, curious and trying to get more information on the man she was looking for. The census worker grabbed another thin stack of papers, closed his trunk and locked it, then turned around so Cathy could see his lanyard and badge.
 
          “How many buildings, adults, kids, and how much income,” the man replied unhelpfully while he walked around to the driver’s side door. “Have a nice day.”
 
         He unlocked the door, got into the car and set out towards the next group home he needed to visit before calling it a day. Cathy marched up the front path and rang the doorbell next to the double doors. It was a few moments before a thirteen-year-old boy answered the door. He was wearing a white long-sleeved shirt under a blue t-shirt depicting some Japanese Cartoon character with orange hair and a very long sword, and staring at Cathy like she was the most suspicious woman in the world.
 
          “Yes?” he drawled distrustfully.
 
          “Hello,” chimed Cathy, leaning forward so she was eye-level with the boy. “Can I speak to your mom or dad?” What she had just said caused a painful tightening in her chest and the reddening of her face. She was just so used to asking that question, and had forgotten where she was! The boy, however, smirked.
 
          “Probably,” he replied lightly. “My dad’s in prison. My mom is on Ellseworth, if you wanna drive down there. She might be at work though; her landlord will kick her out if she doesn’t pay him pretty soon.” Cathy stood and shook her head, though the boy was not waiting for her sympathy as he just stepped back from the door.
 
          “Anyway, Mr. D is upstairs,” explained the boy. “See ya.” He sauntered away to Cathy’s right and was gone by the time she stepped inside. The entrance way was a small area with stairs directly in front of it, a living room to the right, and a door to the left. The walls were a cream color, tying in with the faux marble tiles laid out in a small pentagon and ending before the living room and at the stairs, and were decorated with a white board listing the names of each of the kids, along with boxes for if they were staying in, going out, and blank space for the number to where they were going to be and a time they should be back by.
 
         Cathy shut the door behind her and traveled up the staircase, her hand never leaving the handrail. At the top of the stairs she met a landing platform and two hallways that looked identical. Cathy figured her best bet was to the right as she could hear voices coming from that direction. The hallway, however, was filled with doors, all leading into classrooms. Timidly, she peeked in through the glass on the red oak door to a classroom that appeared to be history. An older-looking man with an alarmingly bushy, grey mustache was dressed in civil war attire and pacing back and forth as the students in front of him took notes on what he was saying.
 
         Cathy lifted her hand to knock, but instead she brushed her shoulder-length red hair behind her ear and backed away from the door. She did not want to disturb the occupants and was neglect to have to ask for help. It was a personality trait that often got her into trouble, but that was just who she was. She worked behind a desk where people had to come to her for help and she was always in control. Calming her nerve, she traveled further down the hall and came to another open area with stairs. Down the stairs was the living room with a doorway leading down more stairs. It was an endless labyrinth!
 
          “Okay, okay, this sucks,” Cathy whispered as another trait she was not proud of emerged; the grand skill of talking out loud to herself. “What do I do? Go back? Maybe ring the doorbell again and hope the person who answers will be more helpful instead of just telling me to come in and then walking off? What if the same person answers or someone who saw me come in…?” She chewed her thumb nail and scraped off a bit of the polish she had to constantly re-apply in an effort not to bite her nails off. She did not hear anyone approach until they spoke.
 
          “Can I help you?”
 
         With wide, paranoid eyes, Cathy jumped and whipped around to see who had spoken. She only started breathing again when she discovered it was not a monster coming to kill her, but rather a teenager who was staring at her with a slightly quirked eyebrow.
 
               “Uuuhh,” Cathy breathed, feeling stupid. Her hand flew to her bangs as her eyes dropped to the folders she was carrying. “Yeah, um, I’m looking for…” she forced her hand from her hair, to the folder and clumsily rifled through the papers inside until she found the note she had written with the contact information on it. “Sidney Deck…wret… um…” She laughed nervously and held out the paper for the teenager- who did not need, nor care, to see it. He nodded, then took the paper and stared at it if only because it was being held inches from his face anyway.
 
          “I’ll show you to his office,” he assured her as he handed the paper back and turned to direct her back up the stairs. “I’m headed there anyway.” Cathy nodded, even though the person she was nodding to was not facing her, and snapped forward in pursuit. The boy looked back at her and slowed his pace as it seemed Cathy thought that loosing sight of her guide might end her up in the deepest part of hell to wander the halls for eternity.
 
          “So, um… I’m Cathy, what is your name?” she asked suddenly upon catching up.
 
          “Kyle Sabre,” Kyle replied robotically, as if they were in an interrogation room. “Why, are you arresting someone?”
 
         "No, no! I’m dropping off some paperwork.” Cathy assured him hurriedly. They passed the classrooms and she began to wonder how many people lived at the home. Surely the guest homes out back had not been big enough to support everyone in the classrooms she passed. “So, um… I’m sorry but is everyone here an orphan?”
 
          “No, some are just going to school here. It’s a bit of an odd system.” The teenager looked back at her and could see the interest in her eyes, so he continued. “It started out as a community home-school organization as the teachers were parents. Then the headmaster brought in some friends who were willing to teach classes as part of getting their teaching certificate and made this into more of a private school. Then the businesses in the area started going under and people were having their houses re-possessed so there were less students here and the Headmaster and Mistress started taking in foster kids.”
 
          “Wouldn’t that make less money?” questioned Cathy, while looking around at all there was to see. The peaches and cream colored hallway with its checker board floor of Corona and Aspen colored tile opened up and again revealed the entranceway she had come in through. Glad to see the familiar sight, Cathy followed Kyle into the left hallway and past a door that read: Nurse.
 
          “Yeah, but they’d been planning to open a foster home at Arina’s house for awhile, except this property was a lot bigger and they had room after re-doing the guest houses so they talked it over with DCW and made this into a charter school and group home. The school does okay with grants, volunteers, and tax wavers. You’d have to talk to the Headmaster about it.” A counseling department, records office, and meeting room later and they stopped in front of a door with a dull brass plaque reading: Office.
 
         With a quick knock, Kyle opened the door and looked to a large countered area where a group of teenagers were stationed with one adult overseeing them.
 
          “Margie?” he queried, leaning into the room.
 
          “Oh, Kyle,” replied a woman in her thirties with short blond hair and a sharp face. “Come on in,” she invited. Kyle eased the rest of the way into the room and held the door open for Cathy, before crossing to the counter. He stood in front of a devious-looking brunette girl who was spinning around in a chair.
 
          “Get caught?” she questioned with a smile as she swung around to face him, then linked her hands together and placed them on the lower counter top in front of her.
 
          “This is…” Kyle ignored the question and tilted his head back at the woman following him.
 
          “Cathy Parker,” Cathy filled in, again digging into her folder to get the paper work she had been told to bring.
 
          “She needs to talk to Sid,” Kyle informed the girl he had spoken to before. The girl flipped open an appointment book and ran a neon green fingernail down the page with a quick glance to her black watch with a silver skull that had hearts for eyes.
 
          “About?” she asked lightly as she flipped the page.
 
          “Oh, I, um,” Cathy pulled out the paperwork and handed it across the counter to the girl, who took it and quickly scanned the first and second page before understanding what it was about. She tapped a line in the appointment book, handed the paperwork back to Cathy, kicked off the counter and wheeled the chair over to an intercom.
 
          “Mr. Decretum,” she began after pressing the button underneath the speaker.
 
          “Yes, Blaze?” came a slightly suspicious voice over the intercom.
 
          “There is a police woman by the name Cathy Parker, here,” Blaze explained nonchalantly. “She came with Kyle S-”
 
          “I had nothing to do with this,” interrupted Kyle, stiffly and shooting an ungentlemanly glare at Blaze, who only smiled.
 
          “Yes, um, I was asked to come by Ruby Hart,” Cathy clarified at a volume that made everyone stare at her, and Kyle grimace. “Oh, sorry,” she whispered before dropping her gaze to the floor. Blaze returned her attention to the intercom and asked,
 
          “You get that?” in what she hoped was not too much of a sarcastic tone as really she would have been surprised if the Headmaster had not heard that through the door.
 
          “Yes, send her in,” Sid instructed. Blaze smiled at Cathy and gave an exaggerated flourish over towards the headmaster’s office.
 
          “His majesty will see you now,” she explained.

Cathy nodded and chirped out a quick, “Thank you,” before heading towards a large door with another brass plaque, this one in fancy calligraphy that read:
 
          Headmaster’s Office
 
         The minute she was gone, Blaze turned to Kyle. “So, you just get out of detention or are you ditching class?”
 
          “Thanks for the vote of confidence,” replied Kyle, sarcastically. “The teacher canceled class today. I wanted to know if you’d heard anything from Daren.”  Blaze gave a quick laugh.
 
          “I guess if you’re the only adult in a room full of teenagers swinging swords around you’re bound to need a break.” She reclined in her chair and stared at her nails.
 
          “He introduced the katanas too quickly this year,” agreed Kyle, crossing his arms in front of him. “You hear anything about the next race?”
 
         Blaze made a clicking noise with her tongue and shook her head. “No, Daren was talking to me about something awhile from now; a little race at a fair that apparently has a lot of prestige within its candy coated shell. A few backers are into it and wanting to throw their money at the top ten. He wouldn’t say too much, but that was all he mentioned so it’s gotta be uber important.”
 
         As Blaze reached into her backpack to grab her notebook, Kyle glanced at the door to Sid’s office. He had never seen Cathy before, nor heard of this Ruby who had sent her. He lost his curiosity as Blaze brought her focus back to him.
 
          “He wants us at the track on our regular schedule again,” she announced with a flick of her hand that proved she was not sure about how long that would last. “You’re clear for your exciting field trip on Saturday though. Yay.”
 
         Kyle rolled his eyes and waved a quick goodbye. Blaze returned the wave with a jolt of enthusiasm and returned to her previous activity of chair spinning.  Kyle retreated out of the office and took the trip back down to the first floor where he entered the library and found Zell, his best friend. Zellner Gryphan was a hard target to miss with his constantly changing hair color and attitude that was just as random. At the moment, Kyle noticed his spiked hair was blue with thin, black stripes; and he was glaring in the direction of a large globe.
 
         What the spherical map had done to him was not apparent, but Zell was weird- ‘Interesting’, he called himself; interesting and maybe a bit eccentric. As Kyle stepped into the library, Zell’s amber eyes with the bright gold specks remained on the globe, though he sat up straighter as he felt his best friend’s presence. Kyle hated that, but chose to ignore it and instead attempted to rescue Zell from the most terrifying geographic tool to ever grace the library. 
 
         "S’goin’ on?" questioned Zell as Kyle crossed in front of the globe.
 
         "What are you glaring at?" asked Kyle, as he flopped down onto the couch and stared over at the globe in the hope of seeing some paranormal sign that would tell him what had his friend so irritated. Kyle and Zell were friends because of something, which was not a usual thing like similar interests. No, their friendship was two pieces of the same puzzle, so that even though the colors were not always similar they still fit. They were both interesting. The longer story was ever present in their minds, but had died down since they had known each other so long. They were roommates and raced on the same team; most of the time they were not trying to kill each other and when they were it was all in good fun- or fleeting annoyance.
 
          “Not important,” Zell replied lazily. “Every semester I sign up for boxing, even though the teacher is a flake. Why is that?”
 
          “You’re a flake too,” confirmed Kyle, quickly moving out of the way of Zell’s fist.
 
          “I’m bored,” whined Zell, slumping back against the couch.
 
          “Aren’t you supposed to be practicing with the punching bag?” pondered Kyle, though he knew Zell’s dislike of that bag. Zell’s expression soured at the suggestion, but after scowling at the globe for a few seconds, he sighed and rose from the couch.
 
          “Guess I oughta at least go down there,” he conceded unenthusiastically. “I’ll see you later.”  He left Kyle to meander through the bookshelves and eventually pick one, placing a card into the place he had taken the book from and writing down what he had chosen on the sign out sheet. Then he retreated to the couch to sit down and read. He was a few chapters in when Cathy jumped into the room.
 
         "Found you!" she stated proudly, seeming to have lost all previous shyness. Kyle had no idea what Decretum had told her that would make her that happy, but whatever he had said… Kyle hoped it had nothing to do with him.
 
         "Sorry, I didn't know I was lost," he replied, putting down the book and turning around to give her a mocking look. Cathy laughed and placed her hands over her mouth. The smile did not disappear as she moved her hands and managed a claim of,
 
          "I just had a meeting with your headmaster."
 
         "...I know," replied Kyle, before returning to his book.
 
         "It was exciting!” Cathy continued, grinning. “One minute I'm just dropping off paperwork, the next thing I know we're talking and he said 'hmph, there's actually someone here who matches that...' so we start talking and he says, 'The candidate would be a good match for him too,' and that 'him' is you!"
 
         Kyle dropped the book as he was overcome with a sense of doom usually reserved for people hiding in fox holes as they realize the person next to them was braver, and stupid.
 
         "What?" he gasped. His eyes grew wider and his skin paled. This wasn't happening.
 
         Another officer, who had earlier been giving a D.A.R.E lecture, paused in the entranceway to the library and stared at Cathy for a few seconds before entering. His salt and pepper hair was combed back and giving a slight bounce as he walked, and his full six-foot-two height was apparent in his long strides, even though there was a slight limp in his steps. His dark green eyes drifted to Kyle, and his brow furrowed in concern as he stated a sardonic:
 
         "You look happy.”
 
         Kyle shot him the look of a wet cat. He had known the officer, whose name was Ezekiel Williams, for a very long time. Williams had tried to place him in a home a few years ago and it hadn't ended well- as usual. The woman who wanted to adopt him desired for him to be perfect; Kyle, here was a big surprise, wasn't perfect.
 
          “…You’re not excited that you might be adopted?” Cathy asked Kyle, glancing from him to Officer Williams. She could not understand the problem and had assumed that this would be a joyful occasion.
 
“Ah,” Williams nodded in understanding. He bit his lip in a sign of sympathy for Kyle and switched the black, high-security briefcase he was carrying, one used to display the many types of drugs the force confiscated, to his left hand. He knew Kyle's personality; his explanation for it was that he figured Kyle was cynical with good reason. He would not buy in to the ‘happy ending’ theory and saw life as a do-it-yourself journey where other people seemed to only bring bad fortune if trusted too much. He was the type of person who would probably have refused to have any kind of surgery unless he was allowed to be awake during it.
 
          “You know, there’s a chance things won’t go bad,” Williams offered hopefully as he smacked the brooding teenager supportively on the shoulder with his right hand.
 
          “Uh huh,” replied Kyle, doubtfully and with a roll of his eyes. “And money is going to fall from the sky.” He stood up from the couch and his boots creaked with age. He needed to throw them out as the steel was showing through the toes and the leather was worn, but buying another pair was expensive and he needed them for the work he did at Daren’s shop. Skirting the two officers, Kyle left the smoke green library with its dark wood floors and tried to leave the gloom behind.
 
         "Who knows,” Williams called as he turned to follow. “Maybe, just maybe, your luck is about to change.”
 
         "Not likely," Kyle intoned without looking back. The bell signaling the end of class rang as he walked and students poured out of the classrooms on the floor above. It was an explosion of noise that made Kyle head for the door. Some days it was so hard to ignore the loud voices, echoing clacks of shoes on the tile, and all the other annoying sounds his peers made as they bustled raucously around. Into the entranceway Kyle traveled, and out the oval-topped oak double doors that led outside.
 
          Stone to concrete, concrete to grass, grass to asphalt, asphalt to concrete again, Kyle stepped onto the sloping woodland that eventually lead to a chain-link-fenced-in parking lot on the outskirts of downtown Actaeon. Even the trek did not serve to improve his mood much. He hated being adopted. Experience told him that all that came out of it was a degrading let down. The people who took him in did not ever really care about him.
 
         They cared about the ideals and the attention. When they found out he was not the dream child they wanted and would never be, then the interest faded. After all, they paid a lot of money and felt they deserved to get someone they felt was worth it. He was not what they expected; he did not know how to be, and they hated him for it. Kyle refused to put on an act. He was a certain way and it was not harming anyone. Yet everytime he told the world that he was fine, they told him he was different. Thinking back, he knew they were not all like that. He had been to some foster homes where he was treated like a human being and respected.
 
         The first foster home had been a suburban residence where the neighbors did not even know it was a group home and the owners treated every child as if they were their own flesh and blood. Having to leave that place had been such a shock, but he got used to moving around after awhile, and hearing some of the stories from other kids made him comfortable with moving around, so long as he did not land at a horrible place and be forced to stay there. Not again. Sid’s school had been his legal residence for a few years and he looked to it as an umbrella during a storm. Sure you were still in the cold and dark and getting a little wet, but it wasn’t as bad as it could be.
 
 
--
Prologue:  http://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1599688-Blood-By-Moonlight-Prologu...
Chapter 1: http://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1602851-Blood-By-Moonlight-Chapter...
Chapter 2: http://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1606724-Blood-By-Moonlight-Chapter...
Chapter 3: http://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1607770-Blood-By-Moonlight-Chapter...
Chapter 4: http://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1610371-Blood-By-Moonlight-Chapter...
Chapter 5: http://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1611731-Blood-By-Moonlight-Chapter...
Chapter 6: http://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1618354-Blood-By-Moonlight-Chapter...
Chapter 7: http://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1625657-Blood-by-Moonlight-Chapter...
Chapter 8: http://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1628274-Blood-By-Moonlight-Chapter...
© Copyright 2009 Fanged Smile (eve_of_fire at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1606724-Blood-By-Moonlight-Chapter-2