Ivygate - Part 6

All characters are consenting adults (18+)

“How about this one?” Finn asked timidly, chewing on his bottom lip, and pointing at a toy drone.

“I told you already” Noah replied, checking his new watch, “get whatever you want. Honestly, whatever”.

The boy gawped at his older brother for the tenth time since they’d arrived at the store. He couldn’t comprehend the offer, and was now testing Noah by pointing at random items, which Noah realised were slowly increasing in price.

“This one?” The boy pressed, and Noah rolled his eyes but hid a smile and grabbed the most expensive item within reach.

“Here” he said, and Finn’s jaw dropped as his brother heaved a VR headset worth over seven hundred dollars toward the checkout. A short while later, they were on their way home.

“Are we rich now?” Finn asked, eating his third ice cream of the day, and shuffling behind Noah.

“No” he replied, “we’re just not poor”.

It had been nearly a week since he’d deposited the check. Even in that short space of time, their lives had been transformed. His mom had never been as happy. Finn was confused, but elated, and Noah spent his days in a bubble, feeling both terrified and excited at what the future now held for him. He’d already deposited most of the money into an account which he’d give to his mom when he left for the summer. She still didn’t know how much he’d been given, so Noah guessed that her summer would now be spent looking for a new house. He smiled at the idea, and then remembered that his one, mightn’t be as exciting.

He hadn’t heard another word from Reginald, and he wasn’t sure whether to be happy or concerned about that. Up until he’d actually held the money in his hand, he hadn’t been sure that the whole thing was real. Now, however, as Noah and his family lived the high life, the young man knew that soon, he’d be paying it all back, one way or another.

The days passed by quicker than they normally did. Noah remembered the times when they were hungry, and seconds felt like minutes, minutes, like hours, and hours; like days. It was interesting to him, that misery made time go so slowly, and happiness made him think that there weren’t enough hours in the day.

Exactly one week on from the startling encounter with Reginald, Noah received the message. He’d been sitting at the table with his mom, listening as she spoke about painting, something which she had loved once upon a time.

“You should paint again” he told her, eating an actual meal, and when she realised that she could paint again, her eyes welled with tears and she hugged him.

His phone buzzed in his pocket, and his heart buzzed in his chest. When he saw the name, he felt a hot flush run through his body. His mom shuffled off to order paint supplies online, and Noah opened the message.

Hello Noah,

You will be picked up at your house at six o’ clock in the morning. Please do not be late, and please do not worry about packing. The only thing that we require is you.

Yours,

Reginald.

Noah swallowed hard. This was it. It was time to repay the money in ways that he was utterly clueless about. Tomorrow morning he’d leave, and truth be told, he had no way of knowing if he’d ever return. His stomach churned and he pushed his plate away from him and rushed to the bathroom, and when he returned, his dinner had been flushed away.

Nervous didn’t even come close to describing the feelings rushing through his body. He considered running away. He considered taking his mom and brother, and fleeing in the dead of night. They had the money to do it, but then Noah sat and realised something.

The message was quite simple. He’d be picked up from his house in the morning. There was nothing strange about it, except for one thing. At no point during his meetings with any of the men, had Noah mentioned where he lived. In fact, Noah had never told anybody where he lived, given the nature of his work. The teenager rushed to his bedroom window and stared out into the night. The street was notoriously dangerous, but it had been the only place that his mom could afford. He eyed the lanes across the road, and wondered if somewhere in them, someone stared back. Noah shivered and stepped away.

He couldn’t back out now. He’d signed a contract, and Reginald had held up his end of the deal. Yet, that didn’t help his nerves. He shook violently as he explained to his family that tomorrow was the big day. It was difficult to make himself look as though he was excited, whilst inside, he wanted to jump into bed, pull the covers over his head, and stay there until the bad men went away.

There were tears and hugs, and when Noah finally went to bed, he lay in the darkness and wondered if he’d made the biggest mistake of his life.

He didn’t sleep that night. Not even a wink. His mind had tumbled over every possibility, and when birds began to chirp outside his window, Noah rubbed his tired, stinging eyes, and felt no better than he did when he got into bed.

He walked to the mirror in his bedroom and looked at himself. What was so good about him that someone had paid one million dollars for him? Sure, he was quite handsome, but it’s not like he was a model or anything. His eyes trailed his underwear clad body, and he decided to change into his silk boxer briefs instead of the drab ones he wore to bed.

It was coming close to six when Noah finished writing the letter to his mom, and left it on the kitchen table. She’d find the details of the bank account, and an explanation as to why he wouldn’t be able to speak to her until his return. He felt tears in his eyes as he signed it, and although he wasn’t religious, he prayed that he would return.

The morning air was fresh and cold. He preferred the summertime brightness than the dark, miserable mornings of winter, and he stood on the front step and inhaled deeply.

“You’re not gonna die” he told himself, and let the breath out, then watched as the wisps of cool air disappeared.

His heart smashed inside his chest. He placed his hand over it, and felt the violent thud, then counted until he lost his train of thought. Would they start as they meant to go on? Would a rusty white van screech to a halt in front of him at any moment? Would he be bundled into the back of it, bound and gagged, and taken to a dark, damp cellar? Noah almost turned around, until the low rumble of an engine sounded, and his eyes widened.

A stretched limousine edged around the corner and slowly crawled to a halt right in front of his house. He scanned the street, waiting to realise that the limo was destined for another address, until a very well presented man stepped out of the driver’s seat.

“Mister Jenson?” He said, removing his hat with white gloved hands, and holding it against his chest.

Noah was speechless. He gawped at the older man, and rubbed his eyes even harder. It certainly didn’t look like he was going to be bundled into anything, so slowly, Noah stepped toward him.

“Good morning, mister Jenson” he smiled, and Noah could see that the driver was groomed to within an inch of his life.

“G… Good morning” he managed.

“My name is Fredrick, and I’ll be transporting you to the airfield this morning”.

He opened the back door and gestured for Noah to get in, and the young man took one last look at his old, dilapidated house, and slid inside.

He’d never seen anything like it. The inside looked even larger than the outside. The interior was black leather, and Noah had never felt anything more comfortable in his life. He ran his hands across the cool fabric, and found a keypad to his right. He pressed the first button and a television slid slowly from the roof. He gawped, wide eyed, and pressed the second one. The arm rest next to him buzzed backwards, and two bottles of champaign slowly ascended, two glasses followed a moment later.

“Hello mister Jenson” Fredrick’s voice came, but Noah couldn’t work out where exactly it was coming from. “The journey is scheduled to take approximately two hours. Please feel free to relax and unwind. Your breakfast will be available in precisely thirty minutes, but you will find an array of pre approved snacks in the compartment to your right. We do hope that you enjoy your journey”.

With those words, Noah felt the limousine rumble to life, and he watched out the darkened window, as he left his home in the distance. As emotional as the boy felt, he couldn’t help but realise that this had been no mistake at all. He grabbed a champagne glass and sat back with a smile on his face.

Perhaps this summer would be better than he expected.