The Hunt – Chapter 1 – 2

Chapter One – The Invitation

2.

  Sammi O’Neil drove her soccer Mom van into the garage of her ranch-style home just as the door to the house flew open.  Her fifteen year-old son vaulted on to the hood of the van. She leaned on the horn and he jumped off.  He went to the passenger door, opened it and sat down.

  “Hi, Mom!”, he said as he smiled at her.

  “Martin. So what’s up?” Sammi replied fully knowing that something was indeed up.

  “How about a driving lesson?” he grinned at her, somewhat sweetly.

  She sighed.  He was growing up so fast.

  “Well, you cannot drive from the passenger seat,” she said as she opened her door.  “Meet me at the mailbox and then you can take us to McDonald’s.”

  Sammi walked down the driveway as she watched her son run around the car and climb into the pilot’s seat.  She paused at the mailbox and watched as the taillights turned white and the vehicle slowly edged down the drive toward her.  She opened the mailbox and retrieved her mail.  The car stopped beside her, she opened the door and climbed in.

  “Okay, check your mirror then look both ways and take us to dinner,” she instructed smiling at him.

  Martin smiled back and readjusted the mirror again, this now being the third time he did so, then he looked behind him, both ways.  He slowly lifted his foot from the brake and the minivan creeped into the street.  He pulled the gearshift lever down from reverse to drive, again very slowly pushed the accelerator, or the go pedal down, and they began to roll forward.  Sammi smiled at him before saying, “You can go a little faster, you know.  Just watch out for any kids and don’t forget to stop at the stop sign, not roll through it.”

  Martin laughed as he made sure his hands were at ten and two on the steering wheel.  He slowly followed the road as it bent left to right and he moved his foot from the go pedal to the brake or stop pedal. He shook his head as he thought of his Mom’s names for the pedals, stop and go.

  “What?”

  “Nothing” he said, turning the signal lever up to turn right.  “How was work?”

  “Oh, it was work.  I had to bring a story home to edit for Mr. Blakely, which explains McDonald’s for dinner.”

  “I figured as much.  I got more homework that usual, Chem test tomorrow.  What’s in the mail?  Anything from Dad?”

  “No,”  Sammi said as she rifled through the few letters in her lap. “But this is strange.  I have a postcard.”

  “A postcard?  Who sends postcards anymore.  What does it say?”

  Sammi turned it from the front of it to the back and began to read.