We pulled up to a pretty good size house. Dad and I were in his truck, and Mom was in the car. The trip took about four hours to get here.
I got out, and Dad said, "Well, what do you think?"
"It's amazing," Mom exclaimed.
I looked at it. It was a cape cod style house.
"Gabe, how can we afford this?"
"The owners wanted to sell quickly and leave Michigan. Said the winters were too much. They left some furniture. Plus, look, we are right on the lake," Dad said, walking towards the back of the house.
I walked and looked at Lake Michigan. I had only been to one of the Great Lakes, and that was Lake Erie. I made my way down to the water. It was huge. It was also beautiful. I had heard many things about the Great Lakes but never pictured it like this. Lake Erie wasn't spectacular at all. The Detroit river flowed to it. I scrunched my nose at that.
"Mal! Come on," Dad shouted. I turned and went back up to the house. I carried a box labeled for my bedroom upstairs. It was quite spacious, with a massive closet - nothing like what I had back at the old house.
Mom and Dad had a bathroom connected to their bedroom while there was the main bathroom in the hallway and half bath downstairs. Good, we need three toilets. Having one bathroom was a nightmare.
I grabbed some boxes before I started to unpack. I wanted to get my room set up before bed. I liked the organization. I couldn't sleep in a messy bedroom. My parents thought it was odd until the doctor diagnosed me with OCD, obsessive-compulsive disorder. To say packing was a nightmare for me, was an understatement.
As I unpacked, Dad poked his head into my bedroom, "Hungry?"
"Not yet. I need to finish," I said, putting stuff away.
"Mal, you need to eat."
"Dad, I can't until I finish, and I almost finished. Please." I begged Dad. I needed to finish, and he gave me a soft look.
"Okay. Hurry up. Your mom is hungry, and so am I."
I smiled and worked quickly. I finished within an hour and was quite proud of myself. Everything neatly organized and put in place.
We went to a local pizza joint. Dad pulled up and got out. To have people stare at us was uncanny. Back in Detroit, the only time you had to worry about stares is when someone was either going to mug you or bum a cigarette. Bumming of the cigarettes was usually the thing I encountered from the bums on the street.
We sat down, and a girl walked over to us with a pad and pencil.
"What can I get ya, folks?"
"Give us a large pepperoni with the works and three pops," Dad ordered.
"Sure thang," the girl said, taking the menus and walking away. Okay, well, our waitress was friendly, at least. My parents talked while I looked around at the place - typical small-town pizzeria. People were talking and would glance our way.
The waitress set out drinks down, then went to retrieve our pizza. She didn't seem much older than me, and she didn't look as wholesome as most around here.
She set our pizza down then looked at me, "You're new here, aren't you?"
"Yeah. We just moved here."
"How old are you?"
"Seventeen. I'm a senior."
"Cool. I'm a senior this year as well. I'm Abby," Abby said, extending her hand.
"Malia," I said, shaking it.
"See ya around, Malia," Abby said, walking away.
"See, you already made your first friend," Dad said enthusiastically.
I gave Dad a look. Yeah, first friend. If you're looking for that hidden psycho in a small town, I just met the person. My parents had no clue about teens.
We ate, then headed home. We weren't that far from town, so tomorrow I was going exploring. It was something I did when we went to someplace new. Dad referred to me as Dora the Explorer growing up. Odd since I wasn't even Mexican but white. Dad needs to brush up on his PC skills.
I went to bed and laid there. As I drifted off to sleep, I couldn't help but think someone was outside watching me. I had to remember we were no longer in Detroit but in a small town called Lakewood. Nothing ever happens in the small cities.
*****
I got changed and came downstairs. I grabbed a piece of toast and ate it.
"What are your plans?" Mom asked.
"I thought I would check out the town before school starts," I said in between bites.
"Well, be careful," Mom said to me.
I sighed, "I will mom."
"Got your phone?" Dad asked.
"Yep."
"Pepper spray?"
"Yep."
"Taser?"
"Gabe!" Mom yelled.
"What? I want to make sure she's prepared," Dad said defensively.
"Then how about a gun?" I asked casually. They both looked at me. "Kidding. Geez."
I gave them both a kiss before leaving.
I walked out of the house and walked to town. It took about twenty minutes. It helps when you have to walk fast in Detroit. I walked down the sidewalk, looking at the different stores they had - typical small town.
They had a Main Street with stores and places to eat, and that was it. There were boats around since we were nestled right off Lake Michigan.
As I walked, I wasn't watching where I was going and ran right into someone.
"Ohh, sorry."
They looked at me kind of weird.
"Maybe you should watch where you're going," the person spoke in a low husky voice.
I stepped back and looked at the guy. He was six foot, brown hair, and eyes. Then another guy yelled, "Luka, come on!"
I looked as the boy turned to see a guy with shaggy blonde hair waving to him. He abruptly left, yelling, "Niko! Why must you always interrupt me?"
"Doing what? Getting shot down again," Niko laughed.
Okay, so since we got here, I have met some very odd people. Where did Dad move us to now? I walked until I came across a boardwalk. I strolled along with it until I came upon a guy leaning on the railing, smoking a cigarette.
I stopped a decent distance and leaned on the railing, looking down in the water.
"Are you new?" A deep voice asked.
"Huh?" I looked at the guy, and he looked at me.
"I asked if you were new?"
I looked around at my surroundings. The guy rolled his eyes, "I'll take that as a yes."
"Who says I'm new?"
"Well, considering the tourist season is over, I would say yes."
"Okay, yes. My family and I just moved here," I said, trying to make small talk.
"Yeah, don't care," the guy said, taking another toke on his cigarette.
"Are you always this dickish?"
His head snapped in my direction at my question.
"Listen, small-town boy; the bad boy act doesn't work on me. Be a dick; don't be a dick. Don't care. Just stay away from me," I snapped.
I turned around to leave, and the guy asked, "Where you from?"
I stopped and sighed, then walked back towards the guy. "Detroit."
"Okay, Detroit, I'll see ya around," the guy said, flicking his cigarette into the water and walking past me. This town has some fascinating characters so far.
I decided to walk home, and on my way home, a sheriff car pulled up with their lights and blocking my path. I stopped, and two officers got out of their vehicle - one burly guy and another guy that looked weaselly.
"Excuse me, but we couldn't help but noticed you are walking along here," the burly guy said.
"Just on my way home."
"Are you sure about that?"
"Yeah, why wouldn't I be?"
"Because, well, missy, it seems you are coming from someone place else. If you catch my drift."
I gave the burly guy a look; then it hit me.
"You think I'm a streetwalker?"
"Well, you sure ain't a local girl," the other guy said.
"Only because I moved here yesterday!"
"Well, there's no reason for that kind of language. We're going to have to take you in," the burly said.
"Language? I didn't even cuss."
"Now come along," the burly said, trying to usher me to the car when my dad pulled up.
"Malia! Get in the car!"
"Gladly." I walked over to the car and got in. Dad put the car in park and got out.
"Mister, this ain't none of your concern," the sheriff said.
"What are you charging my daughter with, Sheriff?"
"Why do you want to know?"
"Because it's broad daylight and you're hassling my child. What are the charges?"
"They think I'm a streetwalker," I yelled from the truck.
Dad looked at me then back at the sheriff and the deputy, "I heard about you two. You charge innocent people for bogus charges. Guess that will have to change."
"Who are you?" The sheriff questioned.
"Lieutenant Gabriel Weston, Michigan State Police, homicide division. That means I have the authority to nail your sorry asses to the wall. Stay away from my daughter, or I will shoot your dick off. Got me?"
The sheriff and deputy looked at Dad as he got back into the truck and took off.
"Who are they, Dad?"
"Trouble. Malia, I want you to keep your distance from the local police. Understand?"
"Yeah."
My dad was not one to mess with on matters like these. He hated it when other cops abused their power. He always said police should protect and serve not use their authority to terrorize innocent people.
I had a feeling this wouldn't be the last I saw or heard from those two. It looks like dad just made an enemy with the local sheriff.