The day I was shipped out west to live in Montana was the way I decided my life had officially become just one long sequence of terrible events.
I walked out of the airport with a deep sigh, dragging along my duffle bag that contained what the few things I was able to fit inside. Mt grandparents didn't want to pay for carryon baggage, so I had to leave behind most of my possessions with the hopes that my grandparents would come through on their promise to ship me the rest of my things. If someone had told me just two weeks ago that I would be flying across the country, with nothing more than a measly bag, to move to a small town in rural Montana, I'd have laughed in their face.
Honestly, I hadn't even known what the capital of Montana was two weeks ago when my grandparents first told me where I would be living. Billings was, in fact, not the capital of Montana, but it looked the part. I had been expecting Montana to be a desolate wasteland with scraggy trees and low bushes with, maybe, even a tumbleweed blowing in the distance. That wasn't the case. Billings was just like any other large city with plenty of tall buildings and busy streets. It left me hoping that Edmond, the small town that my aunt and uncle lived in, would be similar. But I knew better to get my hopes up.
Standing outside the airport, I came to realization that it wasn't as cold as I had originally been led to believe. Reading Michael Crichton's Jurassic Park had left me under the strong impression that it started snowing at the start of August in Montana, but being here in September, the weather was roughly around sixty degrees. It was yet another random fact about this state I had been proven wrong about.
I craned my neck to look down the long line of cars packed neatly in the parking spaces as I tried to spot my uncle. He was the one who was supposed to be picking me up. Even though I knew my Uncle Kasey wouldn't be holding a large sign that read 'Aaron Cooke' like people do in television shows and movies, it would have been a pretty cool way to welcome me.
Eventually, I spotted a man who resembled my Uncle Kasey propped up against a rugged white pickup truck. I couldn't remember ever actually meeting my uncle before, I was able to recognize the man from a photograph my grandparents showed me.
My uncle was a tall man with shortly cropped brown hair with grey at the temples. He was dressed in a simple, plain grey t-shirt and jeans. He had a hard-face that looked like it has seen too much of life, and a hawk-like nose was prominent on his face.
I made my way over to him, not quite sure what to say. Random words bubbled to mind, I had to be careful on how I made my first impression. I was going to be living with this guy for at least the next two years after all.
Upon reaching him, I still hadn't decided on what to say. Hopeful the man would come up with his own form of greeting to spare me the awkwardness, I kind of just stood in front of him. The man studied my face intently, yet he didn't make any signs of recognition. His piercing grey eyes give me a once-over before they turned somewhere else. Maybe he was having trouble recognizing me as well?
"Uncle Kasey?" I asked tentatively.
"What's it to you?" The man responded sharply as if I was some big-time cop interrogating a suspect. Part of me was confused by this response. How many people did he really expect to walk up and call him Uncle Kasey?
My eyes must have expressed my confusion as the man appeared to have a lightbulb flicker on inside his head. "Oh, wait...you're Aaron, aren't you? I didn't recognize you." The man preceded to get into his truck without further comment.
I looked around completely baffled. Not sure of any other course of action I could take, I got into the passenger side of the car, hopeful that I was not about to be kidnapped by some weird man, who only happened to look like my uncle. Uncle Kasey didn't even bother checking to see if I was buckled in before he started the truck and pulled away.
I quickly learned that driving in silence with a man, who may or may not be your uncle, passes by at a snail's pace. We drove for several long minutes, with the city passing us by before the man finally spoke again. "Sorry we missed the funeral," he said with a small roll of his shoulders. "Money's kind of tight. Couldn't afford to fly out there."
Why did he have to mention that! I had just managed to cram every thought about my parents into a small part of my mind, where I could forget and not think about their deaths. Deaths that had taken place only a few short years ago.
After a moment of quiet agony, I realized I still hadn't answered my near stranger of an uncle. "It's okay," I reassured him quietly. His comment also brought back the ugly memories of the fire.
The fire had consumed the entire house and everything and everyone in it, except for me. I was the lucky one. Spared the horrible death of being burned alive. I couldn't imagine a worst fate. I'm not even entirely sure how I had escaped the house while it was ablaze in a fiery inferno. All I remember was going to sleep that night. The next thing I knew, I was standing outside the very house that I had grown up and spent my entire life while it burned to the ground with both my parents still inside.
Uncle Kasey grunted. "Well, we're hoping taking you in will be a sufficient enough way to make up for it."
My eyebrows rose unintentionally. I wasn't quite sure if he is joking or not. I had been wondering why my Aunt and Uncle were taking me in. Was it because of guilt?
I had been living the last few years with my penny-pinching grandparents down in warm and sunny Florida. Judging off the way they treated me, they seemed to think I should be in a constant of awe at their generosity of allowing me to live with them after my parent's deaths.
I'd come to learn to over the years that they had never thought highly of my father nor my mother, their daughter. Despite all that, I still had gotten used to living with them and was even actually beginning to consider that place my home. But not anymore.
Just a few weeks before, they dropped a bombshell on me. They were selling their house and moving into a condominium located in a retirement community. And here was the kicker, I wasn't coming with. They told me had begun making these plans during the summer, without consulting me, and after deciding a retirement home was no place for a 16-year old, they had begun inquiring with my other relatives about allowing me to go live with them instead. The first and only ones to volunteer was my father's brother and his wife, my Aunt Katherine, who lived here in Edmond, Montana, with their two sons. And that's how I found myself in the cab of the truck that today, whisked off to a family of near strangers. Just because my grandparents wanted a better atmosphere for me.
The awkward silence returned as my uncle drove us out of the city and into the countryside that I had originally expected all of Montana to be.
Trying to put an end to this awkward situation, I decided to attempt another conversation with my quiet uncle. "It's peaceful looking out here," I said. And boring, I wanted to add, but I knew better to say such a thing aloud.
Uncle Kasey simply nodded, and I began to worry that my plan has already failed. Thankfully, Uncle Kasey chose to respond with some words in addition to his nod. "I think it will be good for you. You know.... considering everything that has happened."
My face tightened into a wince, wondering if my uncle was continually bringing up my parents' deaths on purpose. However, I was willing to let it go if it meant avoiding the return of that awful, awkward silence.
"So...what do you for a living?" I asked. If it wasn't apparent, my grandparents hadn't given me much details about the people they sent me to live with. Basically, they showed me a picture and explained how they were related. That was the end of it.
"I'm a mechanic. I own my own garage, doesn't get too much business these days, though, we survive," Uncle Kasey replied. "Oh, I forgot, I have something for you."
I began wondering what my uncle could possibly be speaking of. It was a pretty rude thought, but there was certainly nothing inside the truck that I would want. Fast food wrappers and oiled stained pairs shirts littered the cab of the truck.
Uncle Kasey reached into his pocket and dug out a flip-phone that he offered to me. I hesitantly accepted the thing, not sure what to make of this strange gift. "Thank you?"
Uncle Kasey grunted. "I know it's not like any of those fancy smart phones you're probably used to, but it's all we can afford."
"Thanks," I repeated myself, because I didn't know what else to say, I already had a phone of my own, so I wasn't sure why he was giving me this.
I hadn't seen a flip-phone up close in a very long time. It's one of those strange things that now seemed like an axiomatic fossil. My grandparents didn't even use them, and their entire existence seemed to be dedicated to saving money.
"What kind of music do you like, Aaron?" Uncle Kasey asked, but before I could even answer, he turned on the radio and soon my eardrums were filled with the blaring sounds of 'Dream On' by Aerosmith.
I tried to answer his question, however, he spun the dial and turned the volume up further, as he began nodding his head in rhythm. It was then that I made the realization that I was not going to be getting anymore conversation out of this guy.
I diverted my gaze to the world outside my window. Uncle Kasey seemed content in not having a conversation, and I was equally content in the fact that I no longer had to pretend to be interested in starting one.
We drove for about thirty more minutes, listening to overly loud rock-and-roll music, and passing by various ranches that seemed to stretch as far as the eye could see. After a long time of driving, with the music still playing, a small rectangular sign came into view that read: 'Welcome to Edmond: The Rising Star of Montana'.
Unfortunately, but not unexpectedly, there didn't seem to be that much to see in Edmond. On the left side of the road was an abandoned mine, surrounded by a chain-link fence, and oddly enough directly across from it sat was a lone Pizza Hut. An old dine-in one that still actually had a hut-styled roof.
Uncle Kasey abruptly jerked the wheel to the right and pulled into the nearly empty parking lot of the pizza joint. If I hadn't been buckled in, I would have probably slammed my head on the dashboard and knocked myself a good one.
Uncle Kasey turned off both the music and car, before he began unbuckling himself.
"Why did you do that?" I asked, shocked by his reckless abandon.
Uncle Kasey ignored the question. "Wait here," he told me as he exited the car.
Unsure on where I would go, I obeyed my strange uncle's orders. I watched as Uncle Kasey headed inside and, if I hadn't already clarified the man as my uncle, I would have thought this further strangeness was proof of my kidnapping.
Needing a way to kill time, I pulled out the old flip-phone and began examining it. It wasn't even new. It was a battered old thing that looked as if it had seen better days. There were already several numbers stored to the contacts list—Uncle Kasey, Aunt Katherine, and one listed under the name McKenzie, their oldest son and my cousin. If I remembered correctly, he and I were the same age.
There were no outgoing or incoming calls, leading me to reason a new chip, or whatever stored data in these old things, must have placed into the phone recently. Oddly enough, there was one new text message blinking in the message app of the phone. Opening the text, I read it: 'IN DREAMS, BEGIN RESPONSIBILTIY'.
What the heck was that supposed to mean? I checked to see who had sent this strange text, but I found that the number was unknown. Just as I read this, the driver's side of the door unexpectedly swung open, causing me to temporarily spasm in my seat and drop the phone. Luckily, it was such an old-fashioned thing there was no chance in damaging it.
Uncle Kasey gave me a puzzled look before diverting his attention to starting the truck.
"What were you doing in there?" I asked curiously. Reflectively, it was kind of a dumb question.
"Ordering a pizza," Uncle Kasey replied. "We thought we'd do something special tonight, with it being your first day here and all. Usually, we don't eat pizza because Kody hates it." From what I could remember, Kody was my other cousin who was ten years old. "But your grandparents told us it was your favorite food," Uncle Kasey finished.
I considered showing my uncle the strange text message on the phone. Before I could make up my mind, Uncle Kasey started the truck up and spun us around so fast that we were back onto the road before I was able to even pick the phone off the floor. I tried recovering it while we drove, but the road was so uneven and bumpy that anytime I attempted to pick it up the phone it slipped right between my fingers.
I abandoned the venture and decided to put it out of my mind for now, rationalizing that the text must have just been my cousin goofing around. My attention turned to studying the new town that I was going to spending my time in.
It was a quaint place full of small-town charm. The open ground gave way to sidewalks and lines of buildings flanking the street on both sides. We came upon an intersection with a flashing red stop light where our truck came to a halt.
From where we were stopped, I saw a sign that read "Main Street", which made me speculate if every building in town was along this same road. I spotted a grocery store called the Shopping Basket on the corner to my right, and Uncle Kasey pointed out his window at a car garage across the street from it.
"That's my garage," he said with a twinge of pride in his voice. This, sadly, was the most emotion I had heard from my uncle so far.
The red light gave way to a green and we continued down Main Street. The sun was starting to set, but there were still people out and about on the sidewalks, perusing the various stores and locales. Some people recognized Uncle Kasey as he drove and waved at him; occasionally he acknowledged them. It reminded me of that saying everybody-knows-everybody in a small town.
Once we reached the end of Main Street, Uncle Kasey turned off to the left and we drove past an average sized park, before eventually turning off that road too. After that, we made another turn before passing a junkyard, and pulled onto a stray dirt road.
"I know what you're thinking...." Uncle Kasey said. "How lucky can we be to live next to a real, genuine, garbage dump!" There wasn't even a hint of humor or sarcasm in his voice, and that scared me.
Uncle Kasey then literally put the pedal to the meddle as we sped down the path. The both of us bumping and jostling in our seats. I had half the mind to vomit right then. The dirt road gave way to a gravel driveway and before I knew it, the truck had come to an abrupt stop.
"We're here," Uncle Kasey announced with little-to-no enthusiasm.
I quickly exited the truck, glad to have my wobbly legs on solid ground. It was then that I made a mental note to avoid driving with my uncle as much as possible.
Taking in the new home, I realized, at least from the outside, the house looked rather small. Its solid cement walls had a shabby rubber-ducky yellow paintjob and the flat, all-metal roof held a satellite atop of it. The house was surrounded by mostly dirt, though there were a several patches of tall grass. I found the yard consisted mostly of weeds with small patches of shortened grass here and there. Along with the truck I had just arrived in, there was a small blue sedan parked nearby. There was also a doghouse and other random things, like bikes and Frisbees, scattered around the gravel.
Looking back the way we came, I noted that we had driven so far from the junkyard that I couldn't even see it anymore. While Uncle Kasey's driving skills were questionable at best, he did make good time.
The door to the house opened and a woman, obviously my Aunt Katherine hurried out. Her age seemed to be on par with Uncle Kasey, however, the woman dressed as if she was twenty-years younger than she was. She wore too tight, ripped skinny jeans and a vintage rock band t-shirt. My aunt's bottle-blond hair was cringed and styled, as she used different hues of blues and greens to highlight her hazel eyes. She was looking as though she was aiming to dress like a teenager from the nineties.
"Oh, Aaron! It's so good to see you again!" Aunt Katherine squealed, confirming to me that I must have had met this family of mine before. I just couldn't recall when.
Aunt Katherine then proceeded to wrap me up into a big hug and started shaking me about. "Hold still now, let me get a good look at you!" she said excitedly, as if I was the one who was moving around. "Oh, my! You've grown so much, and you're so handsome. I bet all the girls love you back home!" she said, squeezing me even tighter.
Aunt Katherine eventually released me, and I began gasping for breath. A decision I regretted almost immediately. Aunt Katherine gasped and her heavily made up eyes widened with worry as she placed her hand on my forehead. "Hmm, I hope you're not allergic to the air out here," she said. "That would be very unfortunate. Maybe we should have a doctor check you out?"
"It's okay, Aunt Katherine," I reassured her, shuffling away, back over to the truck to retrieve my things. "I'm fine!"
With my few belongings in hand, I followed my aunt and uncle into the house. We entered a mud room, and my nostrils are instantly filled with the abnormal scent that accompanies most unfamiliar households. My uncle and aunt led me into their living room. It was rather untidy, which seemed to become a common theme here. A teenage boy about my age was lounging about on the couch, watching television and wearing a Los Angeles Lakers jersey. I quickly surmised that this was my cousin McKenzie. I was also pleasantly surprised to see the television was a flatscreen. After the flip-phone incident, I had been expecting to find a large, bulky standard definition television.
McKenzie leapt off the couch and strutted over to where his parents and I stood. He was a very awkward looking person. His ears, nose, and eyes all seemed too large for the rest of his head, and his face was peppered with pimples. He had the most unkempt black hair I'd ever seen and large black-rimmed glasses. While I was tall for my age, just under six feet, McKenzie stood about half a foot shorter than myself.
"Yo, cuz," McKenzie said with too much swagger in his step. "Welcome to our crib!"
"Does he always talk like that?" I nervously asked no one in particular.
Uncle Kasey grunted in response. I didn't know what to make of that, though I was sincerely hoping that it meant no.
"Kody! Come out here and meet your cousin!" Aunt Katherine called out.
"I'M BUSY, WOMAN!" replied a screechy voice from somewhere in the house.
I couldn't help but wince as I waited for my aunt and uncle angry reactions to such a rude response. To my vast surprise, there was none.
"Well, I'm sure you'll meet Kody at dinner," Aunt Katherine seemed quite cheerful for someone who had just been blatantly disobeyed by her son. "Now, McKenzie, go show your cousin his new room,"
"It's still my room, too," McKenzie muttered with a grimace, before motioning for me to follow him through a nearby doorway.
I trailed after him. The doorway took us into a hallway where we passed a bathroom, and then a closed door, where some sort of loud noise was emanating from. McKenzie stopped at the door to open it, revealing a young ten-year-old boy smashing buttons on a controller. He was completely absorbed by his television, which depicted a man walking down the street and shooting random people in the face with a handgun. The boy, who could only be Kody, squealed in delight each time he fired his gun.
"Hey, twerp, Aaron's here," McKenzie said, snapping his fingers.
Kody didn't even bother to turn around, instead, he screeches something unintelligible in response before returning to snickering over killing people in his game. McKenzie promptly shut the door and continued down the hall. My eyes remained glued on the closed door, somewhat disturbed by the little kid I just saw.
I hurried to catch up with McKenzie, and when I did, I had a question for him. "Should he really be playing those kinds of games?"
McKenzie shrugged. "Mom lets him do what he wants," he replied as we reached the door at the end of the hallway. No more elaboration was made on the matter.
We both entered the room, and I got my first look at my new bedroom. The first thing that stuck out to me was that McKenzie was, obviously, a very huge LeBron James fan. There were several posters of Lebron hanging on the walls and even a FatHead sticker poster of him. McKenzie hadn't bothered to clean his room to at least give off a good first impression to his new roommate, as dirty clothes and empty soda cans littered the floor. It wouldn't have been surprised me to find some mice scampering around the room.
"So..." McKenzie began, apparently unsure on what to say. "You're here..."
"Yep...I sure am," I replied, rubbing the back of my neck awkwardly. "So...you a big LeBron James fan?"
"Nah, I'm a Cavs fan for life, yo! LeBron's pretty okay himself, but it's all about the team, man." I arched an eyebrow skeptically at this, but I didn't bother to point out the dude was wearing a Lakers jersey.
I proceed to take good look around the rest of the room. There was only one bed, but an air mattress was also placed at the foot of it, which I figured was where I would be sleeping. A desk sat in the corner of the room with a bulky, outdated laptop placed on it, along with a dresser that held a small television and game console hooked up to it.
McKenzie picked a basketball up off the floor and started bouncing it. "You play?" He asked.
"Oh, yeah...I was on my high school team back home."
"I am too! We've already started practicing, but I think I can talk coach into giving you a shot."
"You're already practicing? It's September. Aren't tryouts supposed to be in November?" I asked, phrasing it as a question even though I was certain I was right.
"Yeah, but, Coach Wilkes wants us to get in all the training we possibly can! Besides, we don't have enough to have tryouts anyway" Just at that moment, McKenzie awkwardly lost his handle on the ball, making me question the Edmond High school basketball team's skills if McKenzie was actually on the team.
While watching the basketball roll past me and out the door, it came to my attention that the bedroom was about half the size of the room Kody had been in.
"Hey, I hope you don't mind me asking, but why does Kody get such a big room when we have to share?" I question, furrowing my brows. I'm not a selfish guy, but it seems like it would make more sense giving the two teenagers the bigger room over the kid.
"Eh, Kody's the baby of the family, he gets whatever he wants whenever he wants it," McKenzie replied nonchalantly, leaping backwards onto his bed. He sprawled out and put his hands behind his head. "Yep, I'm pretty used to it myself. I think Mom wanted more kids but she couldn't make it happen. She'll never say so herself, though." McKenzie sounded almost bitter. Just then, he broke out into, what I presume, was a mock impersonation of Aunt Katherine. "Kody is just so precious that I couldn't imagine having to divide my time equally between any more wonderful children..."
"You say he gets anything he wants?" I asked with a snort. "Let's say the kid wanted your parents to kick you out, would they do it?"
McKenzie casts me a level look. "I don't appreciate your sarcasm."
"Sorry, I'm just nervous...You know, moving into a house full of strangers."
"I get it, man. Just stick with me and I'll lead you straight," McKenzie said, nodding his head. "Oh, man, this going to be so great! I am going to be an awesome wingman!"
I don't bother to tell the guy that I thought listening to any advice he could give, especially regarding girls, would be the biggest mistake of my life.
After unpacking all my stuff from my duffle bag, I made a short call to my grandparents. I had to use my "new" phone, as because to my horror I realized the reason for Uncle Kasey's gift was because my grandparents had already removed me from their data plan, making my smart phone reliant on Wi-Fi, which the Cooke's did not possess.
Deciding my life couldn't possibly get even worse, I joined the rest of the Cooke family at the table in the kitchen. Uncle Kasey had already left and returned with the pizza he had ordered as it was placed on the table. Once we were all seated, Aunt Katherine opened the box to reveal a large pepperoni pizza.
"Yuck! I hate pizza!" Kody complained and slumped down into his chair with a frown. Now that I was up close, and could get a better look at him, I could see that he was pretty much a smaller replica of his brother, apart from not being peppered with pimples or wearing glasses.
"I'm sorry, dear," Aunt Katherine simpered. "This is Aaron's first day with us, and we wanted to do something special. But don't worry, we won't have pizza again after tonight."
At that, I was crestfallen. There was no way I could survive two years in this place without eating any more pizza.
Kody grumbled a not-so-quiet curse under his breath and took a slice of pizza, despite his apparent hatred for it.
"Just so you know, Aaron, you'll be starting school tomorrow," Aunt Katherine told me, happily. "We already signed you up. Got you your books and everything!"
I nodded glumly. I had been hoping to get a few days to get used to my new home before having to return to school, especially since tomorrow was Friday. Then again, spending some time away from this new family of mine was quickly starting to sound appealing.
The rest of the dinner went by quickly. While Uncle Kasey remained completely silent, Aunt Katherine did not. She jabbered on and on like a broken a record. Some things she talked about were important. Most things weren't. She explained how their family only a thirty-gigabyte monthly allowance from their internet provider had, so there was a strict, daily thirty-minute time limit on using the internet that everyone had to adhere to. Except for Kody, of course.
Before I knew it, the pizza was almost completely gone. A single slice remained that I began to reach for, but before I could take it, McKenzie greedily swiped it away and cast me a sly smirk. At that moment, Uncle Kasey officially became my favorite member of this bizarre new family of mine. Of course, I was using the term "favorite" loosely.
With dinner over, I decided to turn in for the night. It had been a very tiring day, and that was before I met my relatives.
After a trip to the bathroom, I returned to my new bedroom and found McKenzie digging through the closet. I placed my toothbrush inside the single drawer McKenzie had cleaned out for me in the wardrobe, where the rest of the stuff from my duffle bag also resided. When I turned back to McKenzie, I was greeted with a blanket to the face that he had evidently produced from the closet.
"Here, you can use this," he said with a shrug as I pulled the thing off my face. The blanket was made of wool and made my skin feel itchy. "My grandma knitted it, but I don't use the junk she makes."
I felt slightly bad for McKenzie's grandmother, but worse for myself, since I probably wasn't going to get a good night's sleep for a long time. After moving the air mattress to the other side of the room—I refused to sleep anywhere near McKenzie's feet—my strange cousin turned off the lights, and I covered myself up with the scratchy blanket. I didn't bother to undress as I only had a small amount of clothing and none of it was sleepwear.
As I was about to close my eyes, McKenzie, however, didn't get himself into bed. Instead, he turned on his TV and his game console, pulled up a stool, and started to play. Thankfully, he had the common decency to wear headphones.
"HEY! You want to play too?" McKenzie shouted, motioning to his headphones and then at the TV.
Maybe he didn't have as much decency as I originally gave him credit for.
Despite the uncomfortable sleeping arrangement, exhaustion gave way and I began to drift off. But, as I did, a rich and soothing voice flowed through my head. Strangely, it stated the same words from the weird text message that I had completely forgotten about. "In dreams, begin responsibility."
The voice repeated the line, over and over again, and I found myself no longer in McKenzie Cooke's bedroom, nor anywhere else in Edmond, Montana for that matter. But somewhere much different.