The Egg Ch. 1
The woods that made up Verdant Springs could be called eerie. A mix of tall old birches and pines that grew thicker the deeper on travelled off the paved paths that wove through it. Moss grew in great blankets across the ground broken by small game trails and paths.
The young boy who walked down a dirt path didn’t find the deep wood eerie, but a refuge. Dried tears clung to the boys cheek as he navigated the path as hastily as possible. The far away laughter of other people tormented him as he sought a favorite sanctuary. In his mind any laughter heard A small creek that carved its bed through the woods.
Jacob Grand walked down the path in to his sullen self. A look that he wore just like the big baggy clothes and thick-rimmed glasses he sported. At five-foot nine, Jacob’s obese frame often meant comparisons to a whale. Grand he couldn’t be called except maybe if his expanding waistline counted. To the jocks, it counted.
“Why?” Jacob said out loud.
Jacob asked the question a lot to himself. To the bullies who tortured him at school, peers who ignored him, to his father who either neglected or beat him. No answer ever came back that made it easier. Just more insults to flying fists.
He walked, his feet finding precarious perches as he did. Sore legs carried him through. Hurting, Jacob felt a feeling of elation as he cleared the last of the trees and saw the bend in the creek that he loved.
The bend that Jacob loved could only be seen from the opposite bank. Years ago Jacob had built a makeshift bridge, which as he crossed currently, wobbled and bucked under his weight. There may have been a crack, but it fell on deaf ears.
In the small clearing that made up his favorite spot sat a single log. Next to that happened to be an old military box made out of metal and weather sealed. A stake had been driven through the bottom to anchor it and a rusting lock kept the weather seal locked and in place. Inside the box Jacob stored an assortment of writing materials and books. Today wouldn’t be a day that he opened the box, instead he would sulk on the log.
Many a day Jacob had sat on the log. Peace here in the creek always brought him out of the pains the world offered him. The lazy way water flowed over polished black rocks or how limbs of trees bathed their leaves in pleasant breezes left him with a serene feeling. A feeling that washed over him quickly and he sat listening to the flow of water in the creek.
After a bit, Jacob’s stomach growled in impatience. It always did that though. Growling and bothering him with its insatiable appetite, Jacob knew what it wanted down to not only habit but taste. Taking his pack off and opening it, he pulled out a lunch box that was cold to touch. Opening revealed a carefully protected prize.
The roast beef sandwich sat in a plastic lock bag. Already Jacob could taste the sandwich. Laid with prime cut, lettuce, Swiss cheese and mayo. Fresh tomato complimented the grains and seeds in the bread. Too fast the sandwich disappeared. Licking the last of crumbs off his finger, he sighed in contentment and let serenity wash over him.
“Hey lardo,” a voice said. Jacob didn’t need to look across the stream to see who the voice belonged. Billy and his gang. The irony that Jacob’s bully happened to be named Billy did not escape him. Every bully had some jock name and Billy always seemed to be either the leader or member of a gang member.
Jacob looked up when the sound of splashing sounded in his ears. Horror went through him as he watched Billy and his two cohorts cross the stream awkwardly. Marcus and Zeek were with him and the trio made short work of the ankle deep water.
“Now lookie here,” Billy said to his friends. “Got my shoes all wet.”
Jacob stayed sitting on the log, perched and ready for whatever torment headed his way. He could have tried to run, but the three jocks would only punish him more.
Each older boy took to their callings as captains to different teams. Zeek happened to be the swimming captain. The skinniest and most dark-skinned, the boy hated as the fastest swimmer. Marcus led the running team. Slim and pale with red hair. And Billy, the captain of the football team. Tall broad shoulders, Billy took the title of biggest in the school with no close rival.
“Yeah, me too,” Zeek said. The boy was shaking his pants off.
“There’s a bridge,” Jacob said. He didn’t know why though. The boys wouldn’t appreciate the offer of information.
“What was that fatso?” Billy said walking over to him and confirming his intentions.
“There’s a bridge,” Jacob offered once more, but the jock just walked up to him. Grasping him by the shirt and pulling him up, Jacob tried not to flinch. Billy wore a sneer on his face and it made Jacob fail in his effort.
“Why didn’t you say so earlier?” Billy yelled at him.
Jacob stammered but his reply never got out. Instead, Billy’s fist smashed into his face. Pain flash immediately into him and by instinct, Jacob went limp.
“He didn’t even fight back,” Billy exclaimed. Another fist fell upon him and Jacob lost his will to stand. He collapsed and Billy not understanding what happened fell atop the larger boy.
“Gross,” Billy cried out in disgust. “Help me up.”
Jacob felt the weight of Billy leave. He rolled to sit up but the wind rushed out of him as a foot slammed down onto his stomach.
“Did you hear that?” Marcus asked.
“Yeah sounds like a one of those squeaky dog toys,” Billy replied.
Jacob let the blows fall on him. It happened every few weeks after all. How long the beating lasted Jacob couldn’t even fathom. For him, the physical pain faded away as he sank into the dark recesses of his mind. There, he found solace in feeling like his body sank into a pool of black oil.
“I can help you,” a warm voice said. He wanted to ignore it, but the words enticed him.
“Who are you?” Jacob asked. The consciousness brought sudden pain as he felt a fist fall onto him again.
“Don’t speak,” the voice said again. “I feel the pain too.”
Jacob remained silent.
“When they leave, by the trees you’ll find a white sphere. Listen carefully. If you accept my help, find it and take it home with you. Immerse in water next to your bed before you sleep. Don’t alert anyone to it or what happens.”
The warmness disappeared and brought him back to reality.
“Come on guys, that’s enough.”
Jacob barely registered that Marcus spoke the words. Good’ol Marcus who never actually took place in anything physical when it came to the misery inflicted. Marcus did tease, which Jacob never held against his peer because words were really nothing, but it did hurt that Marcus rarely put a stop to things.
“Hey man, relax,” Marcus continued.
“What?” Billy said with anger evident in his voice. “You feel sorry for the fat fuck?”
“Just got homework to do is all.”
“Let’s go,” Billy said angrily.
Jacob heard the scuffling of feet across the polished rocks that made up the beach until that turned into splashing. Laughter faded off slowly and he didn’t move. A couple times before, Billy had returned and so Jacob had learned to stay put for a bit. He waited for what seemed like hours. When he finally moved, pain laced through his body.
“Damn,” he cried aloud. He already felt stiff from the bruising and welts. It took him four tries to sit up and even then he swayed as the world spun.
“Got to be a concussion,” he spoke while he wheezed. Standing up equated to conquering the world, and by the time he did, Jacob became aware that the temperature dropped. “At least I can see.”
Jacob moved about and picked up his pack with gratefulness the beating hadn’t been worse. He just wished it would be the one beating he would receive that week or even day. If his dad saw him in this sorry state, the patriarch’s fist would dole out further punishment. Sighing, he prepared to leave when he remembered the voice.
Looking around the edge, Jacob let out an exclamation of surprise when he saw the promised orb. Picking it up, he marveled at how light it felt. Smooth as polished stone, he got the feeling looking at it that the object lacked a look of having durability. Scared to drop it, he put it into his pack, his body protesting the series of movements. Grateful to be done with it, he looked over the site sorrowfully realizing that the one sanctuary he possessed had been taken away from him. He made a final note to return for the contents of the box and then turned away from the place.
Unlike the boys who tormented him, Jacob did use the bridge to cross the creek. The path meant more steps, which his body ached with each one, but he got to keep his clothes dry. Honestly, for a beating, Jacob considered himself lucky. Sure the pain existed but the boys had left him in far better shape that he should have been in. In all honesty, as he hobbled painfully through the woods, he surmised that because today happened on a Friday, the bullies had pressing matters. Like the school dance that night. If Jacob though correctly, he knew why Billy had come for him.
Lunch that day at school for the seniors had been busy. As peers gossiped and made final plans, Jacob had sat alone in the corner as per usual. He had already eaten, that day being three snack cakes, a sandwich and two cokes, and sat there observing. One of the things he observed was Billy being shot down for a date. The boy must have seen Jacob smirking, which to Jacob, he smirked to the small justice the universe had given.
Out of the woods, Jacob walked along a paved path, popular with runners and the like. No one used it now except Jacob. Grateful to the heavens for that small measure of luck that none would stop him demanding to know what happened, a reason centering on bad repercussions from his father in the past, he continued on as fast as he could go.
The effort paid off and by the time he reached home, the pain had dulled and his clothes were soaked in sweat. Even before he reached the street his home sat on, Jacob could smell himself. A smell that embarrassed him to no end and one he could never hope to get rid of.
Rounding the corner to his street, he saw that no one was about. No doubt as the evening grew later, everyone that lived on his block made plans for Friday. As he walked it grew apparent to him that his father’s truck didn’t sit in the driveway.
“Thank you,” Jacob said in a sigh of relief. He didn’t want to see his father that night. Continuing on he paused in the driveway right next to the mailbox where he leaned on it.
The house that Jacob lived in sat in the center of the row of houses. It also happened to be the biggest, built for a family of at least six, but it never got to see that. Jacob looked longingly over to the flower garden where a stone cross marked the memory of his mother. A constant reminder of where everything went wrong. It reminded Jacob and his father that his birth had killed his mother overtime he went into the house. His father once had told him the cross had been a prized possession of his mother’s but now instead of a fond memory, it brought nothing but tragic pain.
The home had five bedrooms on the second story, one of which was a massive master bedroom. Apparently his mother had wanted to have a lot of kids and intended to do so. All of the rooms had things in them to that effect. Two boys and two girls, his dad would tell him over the years. The master bedroom sat undisturbed and his father slept in one of the empty rooms. Jacob had his room of course, and the other two rooms were untouched except for the abandoned kid’s furniture projects.
A snap sounded and Jacob barely had enough time to register that the sound came from the mail box. He stepped away as quickly as possible to see that the wooden pole now leaned and the wood cracked.
“Crap,” he said sudden fear going through him. When his dad saw it no doubt retribution would come. Sullen, he went up the steps of his house.
The key to the home had been hidden on the screen door right inside in one of those black magnetic key holders. Getting it out, Jacob opened the door before putting it back and going inside.
Entering into the Grand home meant entering into a view of nothing. There were no picture on walls, barely any furniture. Most had been broken by his father in his drunken stupors. The house was a shell of what could have been. Stains on walls and wooden floors where polish and paint long since faded greeted all who entered, which for the home, often meant no one but Jacob. With a sigh, he went upstairs to his room.
Jacob would have to give kudos to his dad on a few things. One, is that even though the patriarch was abusive, the man took care of his son. Jacob had a massive desk, a bed and shelves lines with collectible items. Each section of the shelves had a designation.
The shelf next to his desk held books and notebooks. The two one wall next to his bed were filled with figures. The last top to bottom had finished models and hand-painted figures. All paid for by the generous allowance his dad gave him. Jacob didn’t understand how such an abusive man offered such a solace, but he never questioned the stacks of cold hard cash and written notes on instructions his dad would leave. The man worked hard for some job and drank himself to a grave at night.
Jacob went to the bathroom and stripped. From there, he examined his body as much as he could in the mirror. Bruises of purple and black shown on his skin, some brand new and other faded. He smiled a bit thinking that he could have been a furry and spotlighted as a leopard. With a shudder though, he dismissed that thought and lumbered into the shower.
In the time that Jacob entered and exited the shower he reflected on the shower. He could barely move in the thing, but did his best to wash himself. A process that involved lots of soap on a back washer, which he used for his whole body. When he did exit, Jacob did the one thing he promised he would never do until he actually saw weight loss. He stepped onto a scale.
Numbers jumped accordingly fast on the digital scale. He watched and two-hundred flashed by. The scale stopped at three-eighty.
“I lost six pounds,” he said excited with the news. “I can’t believe it. I lost six pounds in a week.”
Smiling now, he got off the scale and lumbered back to his room. Naked and all he walked over to his desk and sat in the chair. It protested loudly with his weight, but he hoped that enough would be lost before it buckled.
Logging onto the laptop he owned, an Apple, he searched diligently into different strategies to lose weight. Jacob had begun thinking of losing weight a couple of years ago. With no help or understanding, he had realized through researching online that he was an emotional eater. All the pain he had dulled by food, but that action no longer held appeal to him, even if he couldn’t escape what he did.
Portion control had been his first step. Next week he planned on walking more, but he was afraid of that. The exposure for sure meant more opportunities for ridicule. A fear that he knew that needed overcoming if he wanted to succeed.
Written on a sticky notes and posted on his desk were a series of goals. First one to lose weight. Second to be fit. Third, kick his bullies asses with the latter word circled. The last note just had the word Dad written on it.
Getting up from the chair, Jacob retrieved his pack. He opened it up and began taking out his school things. It wasn’t until he felt something round through the interior that he remembered the sphere. Pulling it out he looked at it. It looked bigger now and felt heavier.
“What are you?” He asked it, but it didn’t reply. Sighing he put it on his desk. After an hour of aimless surfing, he put a game on. That took him late the night and his stomach growled reminding him he hadn’t eaten dinner. A few clicks on the computer and he ordered a specialty salad from a place he never had before. Then he got dressed and went back to playing the game.
The game took over once more only interrupted when the food arrived announced by the door bell ringing. Jacob rushed to answer the door, getting there in over a minute.
A small petite girl greeted him when he opened the door. The kind that Jacob had dreamt about, but never would look his way. The look of surprise on her face at the sight of him told him everything he needed to know about how he looked. He gave her a money, tip included and took the pizza form her. She said nothing to him and him to her as he went back inside. Sad now, he ate the salad in the kitchen. After he finished, he got a glass of water and headed upstairs having decided that bed would be better than continuing to be awake.
Back in …
Source: reddit.com/r/gonewildstories/comments/a2oneg/the_egg_ch_1_mf