Prologue: Sunset

The last drops of sunshine dipped beneath the horizon, coloring the sky with purples, pinks, and oranges. Carl watched regretfully, as summer sank with that sun set. School was going to start up again in the morning, the first day back. He frowned, staring up at the endless sky from where he lay in the middle of the lawn, his hands resting behind his head.

His freshman year.

It seemed so long ago when Carl was just a carefree boy, cooking up get-rich schemes in the backyard doghouse with his best friend, Hoodsey. Back then it felt like there was no end and his youth would be eternal. He thought he had all the time in the world, but now as he reflected on those days gone by, he truly understood the meaning of "time sure flies".

Elementary School had been the golden years in Carl's life, and he didn't know then how much he would miss them until he found himself smack-dab in the middle of Junior High School. It was there that his quirks made him stand out in an environment where it was best he fit in, and it was no longer a good thing that he was considered weird, at least not to his peers. He spent most of those three years working on getting through each day unscathed, and by the time it was over he'd only ever associated with his best friend, Hoodsey, and his girlfriend, Noelle. He'd survived through middle school relatively well considering others. He'd get in scraps here and there, as his mouth wasn't always something he could control, and could you really blame him for being smarter and wittier than even the most cunning Neanderthal in that school? Apparently they could. He spent most of his preteen years in detention and grounded, after all.

As most students stumbled through the awkward first years of adolescence, Carl had handled it as casually as he did all things in his life. He'd made it as weird and strange an experience as possible for everyone involved. His sister didn't really appreciate when he'd spent a week experimenting with her loofah and Apricot Scrub. Turned out they were not meant to be used together, nor for hair, feet, underarms, or any of the private regions. It was a valuable lesson. He tried new styles with his hair, his clothes, his attitude. He spent one day as a Goth, but couldn't quite pull off the whole 'dark, angsty, unemotional' persona. Not to mention, he couldn't write poetry. He'd also managed to gel his hair into a Mohawk one time, but his mother, Lois, made him take it out immediately.

Now he'd worked his way back to his humble beginnings. He sported a shaggy bowl haircut similar to that of his youth, loose jeans and a faded brown t-shirt that hung nicely off his wiry figure. He'd grown somewhat taller, and his skin was a tad darker than in his youth. Unlike other children in the neighborhood, he still spent most of his time outdoors. Of course, it wasn't because he loved the out of doors so much, rather, he couldn't stand being at home anymore. His mother had remarried when he was about ten years old. It wasn't like he hated the man, Dr. Dave, it was just, a lot of things. He liked being the only man in the house, before. He liked the family dynamic they had going on. It was a little awkward, seeing a man smooching with his mother, the way they came out of their room late in the morning, their hair mussed, their clothes shambles, their faces flushed. It didn't take a rocket scientist to figure out what they'd been doing that night.

Dr. Dave was hinting that he wanted Carl to call him "dad" or something along those lines, though he never pushed. There were times Carl couldn't even sit in the house, the way they giggled and talked with one another. He knew it was selfish of him, and that his mother deserved to be happy, and that Ginger, his older sister, was having a harder time dealing with this new man in their mom's life than him seeing as how she'd known their biological father better, but he couldn't help but push them all away and shut them out.

Everything had changed, and now his childhood was all ending. It seemed to flash before his eyes. All those childish pranks, all those masterminded schemes, all those years of struggling to find himself, and still not being sure where he was.

"Carl," a brusque accented voice called from the house and the door swung open, a woman sticking out her brown curly head and blinking her heavily eye shadowed eyes at the young man strewn across her lawn, "Carl, dinner's ready."

"I'll take my meal outside" Carl replied, not even bothering to sit up or look to the older woman that was his mother, "And I would like my fruit cocktail inside of my baked potato." Lois sighed, audibly.

"Carl," she started again, her voice sagging with peevishness, "Get your rump in here, or you won't be eating at all. And we're having chicken cacciatore tonight. I don't have any baking potatoes."

"Now, Lola," Carl began, his own tone one of mock annoyance with an underlying sadness as he realized he was getting too old for this childish banter, "I specifically asked for a baked potato."

"Get in here, Carl," Lois growled, disappearing back into the house, but not before calling over her shoulder, "And it's mom!"

"Do I at least get a fruit cocktail?"

Carl chuckled, pulling himself into a sitting position, and briefly taking in the darkening street, pulling his knees to his chest. Sheltered Shrubs always seemed so small to him. He knew that his sister, Ginger, had dreamed of something bigger, some place out there that she could call her own. But her out there turned out to be classes at the community college and planning to move out into an apartment with Dodie. Carl had made a vow long ago that he would escape that small town one way or another, no matter what extremities it took. But now, the time was growing ever nearer that he needed to start making those escape plans.

The last rays of light dipped from view, and the street was engulfed in darkness, save for the tiny, flickering spotlights of the streetlamps.

"Carl! Food's getting cold!" Lois roared from the house. Carl sniffed, rolling his eyes and lifting himself from the ground before sprinting into the house.