final novel assignment

Danny Feiler
Mr. Brannigan 11R
Final Novel Assignment

“C’mon Danny get in the car, it’s my brother’s friend it’ll be fine.”
I tried thinking of myself getting in the black corolla, what the consequences would be, who would see me, stuff like that. I quickly silenced the thought of going along with Oliver and told my other friend Mike to go in my place. He made sure I honestly didn’t mind letting him go instead of me, as if it were some Goddamn honor to go drive around with a bunch of wanna be hippies doing God knows what, well I had an idea of what they were doing, that’s partly why I chose to stay behind in the parking lot of the local movie theatre. There were things that being put on probation restricted me to do, smoking pot was one of those things, not that I had wanted to anyways but I do things I wouldn’t normally do sometimes. Like as if I were the main character in one of those damned above the influence commercials, but I wasn’t like the kids in the commercials. I didn’t give a rat’s ass about what some kids who I knew wouldn’t go anywhere in life thought about me, it’s just whenever I was put on the spot where I should’ve been getting pressured into doing something stupid, I began convincing myself that I didn’t care about what happened to me, and always ended up doing something stupid, not because I was pressured into it, but because when I wanted to, I could have the mentality of not giving two shits about anything in the world.
Well I stayed behind in the parking lot, listening to my ipod, 25 minutes passed and I looked up to see the black beat up car parked in front of me. My two friends stumbled out of the backseat, with eyes the color of the brightest cardinal glimmering in freshly laid snow in the dead of winter. I didn’t say or ask anything about what my two friends did that night, but things changed the next day. It was a Saturday afternoon and I met up with my persistent group of friends around noon as usual. As freshmen in high school there wasn’t much for us to do on weekends besides skateboard and go to the movies, so me Oliver, and Mike left my house on our skateboards and headed towards some of the main spots in our scumbag littered town of St. James. We had been screwing around on our skateboards for a couple of hours, kick-flipping off of curbs and doing other tricks that seemed cool at the young ages that we were, when we noticed Oliver’s brother’s friend from the night before and two of his friends, a trashy looking blond girl and an overweight Mexican boy with pinpoint spiky hair, walking down the street.
“Ayyy lil Olivaaa how are we?” exclaimed the boy from the night before, Dan I think his name was, he was tall, a senior, long curly black hair, he reminded me of a poodle, I began thinking about a large black poodle that my Aunt had owned when I was younger, that fuck damn poodle bit my hand nearly to shreds the only time I ever tried to pet it, I hated that poodle.
Well after our greetings and being acquainted with the trashy white girl (Claire) and the porky Mexican boy (Hector), Poodle boy Dan invited us to hang out with them at a place they called “The Fort”. We all looked at each other, sharing looks of approval, and accepted to go with them to the so-called fort, all I could think about was the poodle, staring me down with clumps of skin and blood stuck in it’s teeth.
We walked behind the three seniors, down the block, into the back of my old elementary school, and proceeded to climb over the back fence into what looked like a mere patch of wood, but once we reached the other side, a cleared out pathway was revealed behind the trees that were closest to the fence. Still thinking of what I would do to that demonic poodle if I had the chance, I followed the group of kids through the pathway. The path led to a cleared out area of woods, a fireplace rested in the middle of the clearing, a tee pee the size of a small shed was set up in the corner of the fort, but what really caught my eye, impressed me even, was a booming tree in the back of the woods. The tree must’ve been around 50 feet tall with nails sticking out of it, but what fascinated me was what were placed hanging off of the nails… there were tools upon tools upon tools, hammers, screwdrivers, axes, hatchets, rakes and any other tool you could think of, I had always been drawn to building things and creating new things so seeing that tree hit me, it made me feel a speck of belonging.
I was entranced by the doings of all the older kids that were there, the things they did were so instinctive and independent, and best of all, creative. We spent the day helping building and up-keeping our new little patch of paradise, the older kids smoked, while my friends took part I turned down the drugs and watched, while I hadn’t desired taking place in the smoking, it still drew my attention, along with everything else the kids did, the way they worked was just so unified and beneficial to everyone there, it was as if these deadbeat seniors were the first functional family I had ever seen… it was weird to think about, it gave me hope to believe that things could be good for some people, but at the same time it depressed me to damn near death to think that the first time I had been exposed to this feeling of hope was in the middle of some tic infested woods with a handful of stoners. However doubtful I was about it though, I grew to love the fort. Going to hangout there a couple times a week, turned into everyday, and leaving before darkness hit, turned into staying until the middle of the night. During our time spent at the fort me, Mike, and Oliver met many other peculiar and interesting people, all whom shared the common interest of wanting to belong to something that was only good, no evil, isolated from the crime and hate that actual society had to offer.
We spent basically our first half year of freshmen year hanging out at that fort. I became more comfortable there then at my own home, and I can honestly say the same for Mike and Oliver, and any of the other older kids that hung out there. During the weekdays we sprawled around the fireplace on lawn chairs, smoking cigarettes, sharing stories and laughs, and being ourselves, during the weekends we spent all day cleaning and making repairs to our sanctuary getting prepared for the parties we would have at nights. The parties were some of the best times that I can say I’ve ever had in my life, we all turned into drunken bastards, singing songs that everyone knew, singing songs that nobody knew, talking about politics, war, religion, life, death, and other interesting topics that other people were to careless or scared to discuss. I never would have thought that those grimy looking teenagers in the black corolla would have turned into family.
There were plenty of nights that meant the world to me that I could tell you about, but the most important memory I can tell you about, is the day when it all ended. A chain of phone calls went around on a Sunday morning to the whole family of the fort. A party the night before had ended up with the police coming and telling a few boys, Dave and Allen to never go back to the spot again or else they would be arrested for trespassing. Not wanting to believe that the run of memories it had brought were over, I rode my back up to the back of the elementary school where the fort was. I made sure no one was looking and I hopped the fence, I walked the path to the fort and saw the monstrosity that had been my home away from home less then a day ago. The tee pee was knocked down, the fire pit that had once been at least 3 feet deep was now filled with dirt, yellow caution tape was strewn everywhere you could look, but the thing that hit me hardest, the thing that really killed me, was that all of the tools were gone, not a single damned one was left. I couldn’t believe what the police had done, they were supposed to be there to stop all the evil in society had destroyed the one place that I had found where there was no hatred or racism or anger, “Fucking great,” I said to myself.