Scattered Screams: (The Disruption, Book One)

  Scattered Screams: The Disruption (Book One)

  C.A. Huggins

  Contents

  Copyright

  Prelude - A Hard Reset

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Thank You

  About the Author

  Also by C.A. Huggins

  Copyright © 2016 by C.A. Huggins

  All rights reserved.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, events, or locals is entirely coincidental.

  Printed in the United States of America.

  www.cahuggins.com

  Captain of My Ship Publishing

  P.O. Box 811812

  Los Angeles, CA 90081

  Prelude - A Hard Reset

  "Hurry up!" Marcus Nelson shouted as he darted through the congested Stanford University campus. The tall man with a square jaw and stocky build weaved through the pedestrians like an all-pro NFL punt returner. He briefly paused to determine the whereabouts of his son, Ali.

  Ali, fifteen, loafed forty feet behind, reading a text message on his iPhone from his girlfriend, Esperanza. Most of his time was spent on that phone even though he was aware this habit infuriated his father. And when he wasn’t on his phone he was listening to his brother, Patrice’s, old hip hop CDs on a Sony Discman. In spite of Marcus's current urgency, Ali rattled off one more text message, "He's bugging again. Gotta go."

  Contrarily, Victor Figueroa, fifteen, was able to keep up with Marcus's blistering pace as he trotted a few steps behind him.

  Marcus turned to Vic. "Tell him to hurry up."

  "Sure." Vic took off towards Ali.

  Marcus, Ali, and Vic were on the final leg of a week-long business trip. Marcus, the youngest and only African-American tenured professor in the Geology-Paleontology Department at Columbia University, had attended a conference in Los Angeles and insisted Ali and Vic accompany him to visit a selection of universities and colleges on the west coast.

  The invitation came as a surprise to Ali. He never imagined either Marcus or his mom, Nadine, letting him venture far from their New York City home to attend school. He assumed he would have to stay local, most likely at his father's school, or at the very least within the tri-state area.

  Even though Ali was enthusiastic for his first visit to California, he was hesitant. He assumed Marcus had grown sick and tired of him and their ongoing personality clashes. Ali became increasingly paranoid that school in California was Marcus's pitch to rid himself of his “attitude”.

  Ali was definitely open to some distance between him and his father. But his preference was for the decision to leave be his own rather than feel like a banishment. Ali’s resentment tainted his behavior on the trip.

  Vic, a talented artist and Ali's best friend since grade school, took the trip at face value. To him, Marcus wanted to spend quality time with his son and squeeze in some college visits. Vic knew he was along for the ride and didn't take his inclusion for granted. He had been living with the Nelsons for the last three years since his mother succumbed to breast cancer. Marcus and Nadine agreed to take him into their home to offer stability as he finished school in New York City rather than him going to live with his uncle in Nashville. In order to stay in the Nelsons’ good graces, Vic had to agree to two guidelines: his GPA couldn’t dip below 3.0 and he could no longer do graffiti.

  "You have to speed up," Vic said to Ali. "He's about to blow up."

  Ali rolled his eyes. "Whatever."

  "I'm serious," Vic said.

  Ali threw his phone in his purple Jansport backpack and showed Vic his empty hands hoping he would leave him alone.

  Ali and Vic were close. Close enough that they often introduced one another as brother or cousin, and that was funny as there was no physical resemblance between the two. Ali had dark brown skin, was average height and had a square build like a soccer player. Vic was a light-skinned Puerto Rican, almost as tall as Marcus, and lanky.

  The two of them might not have agreed on Marcus's intentions for the trip, but they both were on the same page as to what they expected to get out of this getaway. It was an opportunity to escape New York City for a week, check out west coast girls, and do some sneaker and clothing shopping. The college visits were nothing but an afterthought.

  Ali and Vic sped up their pace, and they got closer to Marcus.

  "If you make me late, no sneaker stores, boutiques, nothing for the rest of the trip," Marcus yelled back at Ali. His voice boomed loud enough that Ali's jog turned into a mild sprint, and he caught up to Marcus who greeted him with a scowl.

  Marcus planned to reconnect with his youngest child on this trip, something his hectic schedule rarely allowed. For the past few months, he recognized a widening distance between Ali and himself. No matter what Marcus did or said it seemed like it was the wrong thing to Ali, which would steadily result in a shouting match or confrontation where he would ultimately lay down some sort of disciplinary action, such as confiscating his iPhone. And so far on this trip, nothing had gone as planned.

  Marcus was already pissed with Ali for taking two hours to get dressed as he searched for the perfect outfit for today's visit. He couldn't understand his son's preoccupation with clothes. And even though it was eighty-three degrees in Palo Alto, Ali decided to wear his vintage navy blue Ralph Lauren Polo bear sweater, olive green Ralph Lauren Polo cargo pants, and a pair of construction Timbs. To make matters worse, he came down to the Hyatt Regency lobby wearing a vintage orange Polo bandana wrapped around his short, newly-formed dreadlocks, but Marcus forced him to take that off during the car ride to the campus. Because according to Marcus, "You're not going anywhere with me with that thing on your head."

  Most of Ali's clothes, like his CDs, were passed down from his brother, who was the main force behind Ali's love for all things 90s era hip hop, from the clothes to the movies to the music. Ali swore he was born fifteen years too late. One time he went as far as turning in an essay detailing his perfect life as being the fifth member of A Tribe Called Quest.

  By contrast, the punctual Vic was a minimalist and was never meticulous with his outfits. The only parts of his appearance he cared about were his haircut, his sneakers, which never strayed from the Jordan line (strictly 4s, 5s, and 8s), and his Yankees baseball cap, both of which he would always use a Sharpie to customize with his graffiti tag, Virt. According to Vic, his tag made them "1 of 1s". And being unique was a trait of the utmost importance to him. Since he only packed his Grape 5s for this trip, he was dressed on time and forced to wait for Ali just like Marcus, but he used that time to make a few tables in the lobby "1 of 1s" with his Sharpie while Marcus wasn't looking.

  The first stop on their trip included the conference in Los Angeles and visits to both UCLA and USC. Marcus was familiar with the UCLA campus as he lectured there five years ago, but he wasn’t sure it was the place for Ali or Vic. Ali felt the campus was a little too sterile for his tastes, but Vic loved the tranquility of the school as it drew a stark contrast to the perpetually engaged atmosphere of New York City. Ali preferred USC’s campus as far as the L.A. schools went.

  The second leg of their trip was to San Francisco. The day before the visit to Stanford, they drove up to UC Berkeley. Both Ali and Vic loved the school as it didn’t
feel too “schoolish” according to Ali. And even though it was the summer session, the campus was still lively, which enticed Ali and vaulted Berkeley into the top slot as his favorite school. Vic was lukewarm on Berkeley, but that was mainly due to him still holding out for his top choice, the Academy of Arts in San Francisco, which was on the itinerary for the following day. Vic, the natural introvert, envisioned himself surrounded by other artists and creatives.

  Marcus, Ali, and Vic reached the Stanford Visitors Center right as their scheduled tour began along with four other families.

  Ali leaned over to Vic as he scrutinized the other potential female students, “Hmmm.” He rubbed his chin and stroked his pathetic goatee.

  “I know,” Vic said.

  It was as if they had horny teen telepathy, as they acknowledged none of the three girls looked attractive by their fickle teenage boy standards and definitely not as attractive as the girls they previously encountered at UCLA, USC, or Berkeley. That alone put Stanford at the bottom of both of their prospective school lists.

  “She’s got potential,” Vic looked at Sabrina, the tour guide, a mocha-skinned bookish-looking girl wearing a tight, bright red Stanford polo shirt and snug-fitting khaki shorts.

  “That’s all you,” Ali said. That was his common response when he liked something and needed another party to concur for validation.

  Marcus spied on them as the group walked. “You knuckleheads paying attention?”

  “Yes,” Ali and Vic said in unison without breaking concentration from tracking Sabrina.

  Marcus noticed Sabrina had their attention and not the beautiful campus or the words coming out of her mouth. He growled in response. Vic straightened up, and Ali continued ogling. Despite Ali’s two-year-long infatuation with Esperanza, he still enjoyed the sport of meeting girls.

  Marcus leaned into Ali and whispered, “You better have some questions this time.” Then, Marcus stood upright. “Good ones.”

  “I will,” Ali said as he looked around hoping nobody witnessed his scolding.

  Marcus returned to listening to the tour, confident his son was unprepared. Nadine wouldn’t want him to cause a scene, he thought. So he held his tongue.

  “Next, we’ll be heading to the Cecil H. Green Library,” Sabrina said.

  Before the group entered the library, Ali raised his hand.

  Sabrina noticed and pointed to him, “Yes.”

  “How late does the library stay open?” Ali said.

  She fixed her mouth to answer, but Ali continued, “Because I tend to lose track of time when I’m studying late at night. I just… I don’t know. I lose myself in books and learning. It’s my thing.” He smiled because he was delighted with himself even if his father was not.

  “It closes at 1:00 a.m.,” Sabrina said.

  “Excellent,” Ali pumped his fist with mock excitement. “Thank you, Sabrina.”

  She beamed. Marcus rolled his eyes and again contemplated pulling him to the side.

  Ali turned to Vic and whispered, “She dug that question.”

  Vic chuckled. “That’s her job. She has to be nice to us.”

  “You stay hating,” Ali said.

  There was no way anybody could tell Ali a girl was not attracted to him. Vic knew as much, that’s why he never fought him on this unless he wanted to intentionally antagonize him for comedy sake. And it wasn’t that Ali was conceited, but he was terribly hardheaded and couldn’t be reasoned with when his mind was set. That was how Ali approached everything.

  “Are you serious right now?” Vic said. “She’s been smiling at everybody’s questions. Look, she literally hasn’t stopped smiling since the tour began.”

  They both looked over at her. She beamed from ear to ear while she answered a question about printing in the computer labs. Ali looked at Vic but refused to concede to his point. Ali shrugged.

  “For all she knows, I could be a genius who throws himself into his academics,” Ali said.

  “Whatever,” Vic laughed.

  Ali continued, “I’m just saying. I could be creating cellphone apps left and right. Stacking paper. She don’t know.”

  Vic waved him off in response.

  The tour continued as they walked through the picturesque campus. The lush green landscape was a stark contrast to the grey hues of their East Village neighborhood. The air was different. The people were different. Although, the setting didn’t make Ali or Vic feel out of place. To them, it kind of felt like they were on a resort. Both believed it would be a seamless transition to adapt to the setting, but at the same time, neither Ali or Vic felt Stanford was a realistic schooling choice.

  Vic was intent on pursuing his art and didn’t think Stanford was the place for him. He had no interest in a rigid academic atmosphere. And Ali had no idea on his future career despite the prodding from his father and mother. All he knew was he wanted to make the most money as possible by doing the least amount of work as possible. If he could find a profession that adequately met those two specific criteria, then that is exactly what he would pursue.

  Marcus’s best case scenario was both of them attending Stanford. As tight as Ali and Vic were, he thought they’d look out for each other. More so, he wanted Vic to keep an eye on Ali. He knew Vic would be able to hold him somewhat accountable…at least more than he ever could. As they strolled through the campus, Marcus brainstormed what strings he could possibly pull to get them both admitted. He knew he could easily call in some favors from admissions as his status provided him a certain level of prestige in the academic world, even if it didn’t impress his own son. While Ali and Vic were good students, by no means were they spectacular in the classroom.

  Ali’s effort did not consistently match his potential and promise. He was rarely on time for school, or anything really. If he could get a “B+” without studying as opposed to an “A” simply by cracking open the textbook, he always opted for the former.

  Vic worked harder than Ali when it came to academics out of necessity. Before moving in with the Nelsons, he invested very little time into academics. He was a bright kid, but would rather spend his time creating something engaging to the eye than have his head buried in a Chemistry textbook. Prior to his mother’s condition worsening, she was on the verge of sending him to live with his uncle following numerous graffiti related run-ins with the cops.

  “I’m gonna send you down South to vandalize Graceland,” she would threaten him. He never would correct her that Graceland is in Memphis and not Nashville. But he knew what she meant.

  As a single mother, she reached her limit with Vic, an only child, but she would never follow through and send him away. He was all she had. And his awareness of that fact gave him the confidence to keep putting up his tags even with the threat of being apprehended by the police.

  As the tour continued, Ali’s interest waned. He mindlessly strolled amongst the crowd hoping the tour would soon come to a close. At one point he spent a good five minutes reciting the lyrics to O.C.’s “Time’s Up” in his head. It took a look from his father to remember he was supposed to be asking questions.

  “What’s the typical classroom size?” Ali blurted out as Sabrina led the group into a lecture- style classroom.

  “It depends on the subject and course,” she said.

  “But of course,” Ali interrupted.

  She didn’t get his pun and continued, “A room like this holds approximately four hundred students.”

  Ali frowned. “But there are smaller rooms? Because I prefer not to be a face among a sea of other faces.”

  A couple of parents on the tour pointed and nodded at Ali, signaling it was a good question.

  “Another great question. There are a lot of smaller rooms that hold as few as twenty students,” she said.

  “Awesome,” Ali said. “In what disciplines are those classes? I’m still thinking about what direction I want to go in. So many interests…so much to learn.”

  Sabrina paused and fumbled through the notes o
n her iPad. “I am not sure, but I can find out and get back to you.”

  “I appreciate it,” he said. “If you can’t find out before this tour ends, I can give you my number and e-mail afterwards?”

  Sabrina looked around sheepishly. “Sure.” She blushed. “Now, let’s go over to the Student Center.”

  “Well played,” Vic smiled. “But you resorting to puns now?”

  Ali shrugged. “Big Pun… Dead in the middle of Little Italy—”

  “Stop,” Vic said. He knew he’d rap the entire song if he let him.

  The group followed as she led them out of the building.

  Marcus had enough. His nostrils flared as he walked over to Ali and grabbed his arm. “Cut it out,” he said.

  “What?” Ali said with a guilt-riddled face. Part of him acted this way on purpose in order to elicit a reaction from his father.

  “You know what you’re doing,” Marcus said. “Why can’t you take this seriously?”

  “What?” Ali shrugged.

  Vic distanced himself from the father and son. He thought, they can embarrass themselves all they want as long as they don’t include me.

  “I’m doing what you told me to do,” Ali said.

  “You’re being an ass,” Marcus said.

  Ali wanted to smile, because he knew he got to him. But he didn’t. “Leave me alone.”

  Marcus noticed perspiration on Ali’s brow.

  “It’s hot right?” Marcus laughed.

  Ali was confused.

  Marcus continued, “Who told you to wear a sweater in the middle of the summer?”

  Ali took Marcus’s attempt at playful banter as a verbal attack. “Well, if I still had my bandanna on,” Ali said.

  Marcus waited to gauge if Ali was being serious. He was. “If you had it on, you’d look like a goddamn fool.”

  Vic walked back over and stepped in between them to diffuse the situation. “I can’t wait to check out the cafeteria. I think I want a cheeseburger. What about you guys?”

  His attempt to change the subject worked. Marcus looked directly at Vic. “You two can eat after the tour. My meeting with Dr. Webber is at 2:00.”