The New English Teacher Sucks (GxG)

Chapter Nine

And then there was Victoria. Oh, poor, poor Victoria. He wishes now that he had never reached out to her in the first place. If she hadn't made such an extensive journey just to get to him then her child would still be alive right this minute. He would be smiling and laughing and filled with the warmth and love of his mother instead of becoming nothing but a cold empty vessel of the sweet baby he once was.

He blamed himself for it all. Losing his sister was his fault. If he had only kept a closer eye on her that day.

If he had only...

No. He couldn't think about that now. He'll give himself time to grieve until the day of the funeral. For now, he had to remain strong.

Thurlow was so rapt by his thoughts that he did not realize he had made it into the heart of the town without glancing up once. The front tire of a bicycle propelling forward toward him at full speed was what shook him back to reality as it collided with his left knee, knocking him and the owner of the bicycle face-first into a pile of snow. He quickly picked himself up from off of the floor and tried helping the stranger back onto his own two feet. As expected, the tall bearded man was angry and spewing out a string of curse words at Thurlow as he shoved his broken spectacles in the young man's face.

"I'm sorry, Sir," he rushed out quickly and the man snarled at him.

Not being one for confrontation, Thurlow took off in the next direction as fast as his legs allowed him and didn't stop until he was hyperventilating in front of the carpenter's shop. Well, it was more of a shed rather than a shop with the only indication that it wasn't just some rundown place for the homeless was a small chalkboard positioned at the edge of the sidewalk with the word 'Carpenter' messily written on it. The tall dark man stood at the very back of the shed with a metal handsaw as he sawed away at a thick piece of wood, half of his fine careworn face covered by huge plastic goggles.

By the time the young man had evened out his breaths and was able to straighten his back again, he called out to the carpenter several times before he was heard. The man seized his movements with the handsaw, removed the gloves from his hands, and wiped away the multiple beads of sweat lining his forehead. He heaved out a deep sigh before approaching Thurlow with a barely noticeable smile.

"How can I help you?" The carpenter questioned, his voice gruff.

"I need two coffins."

"Two coffins?" He repeated then pointed to a larger chalkboard a few feet behind him with drawings of different coffin sizes and their measurements when Thurlow nodded. "Size?"

The young man pointed to the smallest drawing at the very edge of the board and then to another drawing two sizes before. The carpenter frowned and assessed Thurlow for a second time, his brown eyes lingering curiously over his thin face.

"You're Marlow's kid, right?" He wondered aloud.

Thurlow nodded, avoiding direct eye contact.

"Sorry 'bout your sister. That lil girl didn't deserve to die like that," he exhaled deeply when Thurlow didn't respond, not that he expected him to, and grabbed a small notebook to scribble down the grieving boy's order.

"I'll return with your payment tomorrow," Thurlow exclaimed numbly before turning his back and taking off down the scarred white pavement. He had hoped no one would recognize him since he lived so far out of town and felt practically abandoned by the locals ever since the passing of his father. The man wasn't particularly liked or loved by many and naturally, everyone expected him to turn out just like his father. Thurlow was not yet determined to prove them otherwise but he did try to stay as far away as humanly possible from the drunken group of men his father used to rendezvous with regularly when he was alive. He would often pull the front of his cap down to cover his eyes whenever he bypassed the familiar men on the street to avoid being noticed by them.