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Novel Catalog
Carlisle zipped up his raincoat and pedaled furiously towards Christine’s neighborhood. It was the beginning of June, but the rain did little to ease the sticky humidity that hung in the air.
The muscles in his legs burned as he pushed harder, but the familiar creak of his bike chain soon reached his ears. It had been a while since he’d oiled it, and now the chain was protesting. A few moments later, the chain snapped, throwing him off balance.
“Dammit,” he muttered under his breath. He quickly pulled over to the side of the road and began repairing the chain. Though the rain continued to pour relentlessly, he worked quickly, having fixed his bike more times than he cared to count in the past three years. Within ten minutes, he was back on his way, but not before finding a nearby bike shop and getting some oil for the chain. The shopkeeper, hearing that Carlisle was on his way to take his SATs, kindly didn’t charge him.
As he cycled through the streets, the houses in Helios Village loomed ahead. They were simple structures, mostly made of plywood, with a landfill nearby that stretched from the county into the suburbs. Unfortunately, no one seemed to care enough to clean the mess. The stench of trash hung in the air, thick and unbearable.
Inside one of the houses, Christine sat by her grandmother’s bedside, feeding her breakfast. The small, modest home was nothing fancy—just 300 square feet—but it offered shelter from the storm. Despite its simplicity, it was clean and well-kept.
“Christine,” a middle-aged woman called as she stepped into the house. Her clothes were worn, the shirt patched in several places.
“Ms. Jefferson, what are you doing here?” Christine asked quickly, setting the food down and hurrying to the door.
“We managed to save up some money. You’re about to take your SATs, so you need to eat properly,” Ms. Jefferson said, pushing a small bundle of crumpled bills into Christine’s hands.
Christine immediately shook her head. “I can’t take any more of your money!” she protested.
But Ms. Jefferson’s hand was firm as she stuffed the bills into Christine’s palm. The stack was mostly made up of loose change, mostly one-dollar bills, with just a few five-dollar notes. It wasn’t much, but it meant the world. Christine’s parents had stopped visiting or sending money two years ago, and she had relied on the kindness of her neighbors to get by.
“Christine, you’re the light and hope of this village,” Ms. Jefferson said, her voice rough but filled with sincerity. “Focus on your exams. I’ll take care of your grandma.”
Christine’s throat tightened, and her eyes grew hot with unshed tears. She had grown up in this village, and her grandmother had always been there to help everyone. But after her grandmother had become paralyzed, Christine was forced to take on the burden of caring for her, even as her parents abandoned them. The villagers, knowing the struggle she faced, had done everything they could to support her.
“Thank you, Ms. Jefferson,” Christine choked out, tears threatening to spill over. “Please thank everyone for me. I won’t let you down. I promise!”
“Alright, now hurry, or you’ll be late for your exams!” Ms. Jefferson urged, her voice full of concern.
Christine nodded, wiping her tears. “I’ll trouble you with Grandma for now,” she said, quickly gathering her things.
Christine’s usual routine involved waking up early and walking the two hours to school. But today, with her grandmother’s health in decline, she had spent time at the clinic buying medicine, which left her with little time to get to her exam. She couldn’t afford to waste any more time walking, so she called for a taxi.
She rushed through her preparations—washing up, combing her hair, grabbing her umbrella—and left her small house in a hurry.
But the village, being in the countryside, made it rare for taxis to pass by. She decided to wait for the bus instead, knowing it would be cheaper—only a dollar. But ten minutes passed, and still, there was no sign of the bus.
At that moment, a black car pulled up beside her.
“Hey, are you heading to take your SATs?” the driver called out. He was a large man, wearing sunglasses that were a little too large for his face.
Christine eyed him warily before nodding. “Yes…”
“Why don’t you hop in? I’ll take you there for only a dollar! I only offer such a great deal to SAT candidates!” The driver pushed his sunglasses up, offering a grin that didn’t quite reach his eyes.
Christine hesitated, feeling uneasy about the offer.
