The Enviable Life of Wyatt Klinker Section 2

Well, here is the next installment of my story. It shouldn't be as long as the last one (sorry about that). For those of you who are wondering how my progress is coming, the first section you read was about 5000 words. I've been writing since then and as of right now I sit at about 14700 words. That's about 1700 words more than I was able to write last year, so I've already set a new personal record.

I've had a couple people ask me about my story and I wanted to clear them up and maybe give you an idea of my thought processes.

1st, no, I am not Wyatt Klinker. There may be a couple of similarities, but he is a simple work of fiction (per the rules of Nanowrimo). There may be things from my past which I pull from to help me visualize Wyatt but he is not me. You'll see more of that as the story progresses because believe me, we've lived quite different lives.

2nd, my story has no ending, yet. I got the idea to write about Wyatt at about 10:00pm on Halloween night. For some reason the name Klinker came into my mind. I then attached the first name Wyatt to it. Orignally the story was going to be called The Many Homes of Wyatt Kilnker but I didn't care for that. I've thought a lot about the story and have a general idea of where Wyatt is going, but I don't really yet know how it will end.

3rd, I have no outline. Everything I've written has come from me sitting as my keyboard and typing. I have four events that are in my head with smaller sub-events occurring around them, but that is it for an outline. I work best on the fly and am not going to change that for this book.

4th, typing out 1667 words a day is hard. You would think that weekends would be a good time to write. Well, if this past weekend was any indication then they are not. I fell behind by about 6000-7000 words this past weekend. I've caught up a bit and am now only 3700 words behind schedule (I should be at 18,337 by day's end). I figure I'll write a bit more here at work today and then if things go as I hope, spit out another hour worth of writing tonight at home. I'm on a bit of a roll with Wyatt and I want to capitalize on my energy.

5th, I have no ambition to have this thing published. First off, I don't think it is the best writing I've ever done. Furthermore I don't particularly feel that I am a polished writer. What I do know is that I want to know that I can, and have written a novel length book. This equates to about a 175 page paperback when finished, so I feel as if I will have accomplished that should I complete Nano. There is one bit of good news though. For completing (and thus winning the Nano challenge, an online printing company will print and bind one free copy of my book. That should be cool.

Well, that answers a few questions. If there are anymore, please ask and maybe I'll answer them with my next installment. With that said, here is the second section of my book:



June 25 - Dear Starlog

Lindsey won’t talk to me and truthfully that’s all fine with me. I’m really beginning to believe that the whole thing that happened the other day, with Lindsey looking at me and all was completely in my head. Sometimes I think way too much into things. I think she was just pissed at her dad. Maybe it was just hopeful thinking. I’ve had a girlfriend and all, well, not a real girlfriend, but a girl who I went out with for a short time in eighth grade. Her name was Caroline. We started going out at a dance we had and kinda were together for about a month or so. She was okay.

I can’t really picture Lindsey liking me (I can’t believe I’m writing about my cousin like this). She’s pretty cute and really I’m not much of anything. That’s okay with me. It really is. I don’t have self esteem issues or anything. I’ve just never really cared all that much about going out with girls. Sure, it would be cool but I certainly don’t base my life around the whole deal. If Lindsey did like me I really wouldn’t understand it. She told me she had a boyfriend but they broke up back in April so I know it isn’t like she can’t find anyone.

I don’t know. I don’t even know why I’m thinking about this. It doesn’t really matter. I am going to try to talk to her because I don’t want her mad at me seeing as I’m going to be here another three weeks and she is the only one in the whole state of Illinois that has even threatened to have a conversation with me. Besides, I’m not being true to myself if I let her control me. Not talking to one another is her idea and frankly, I’m just allowing it to happen because of this funky feeling that doesn’t really even exist. I need to get over the fact. She has no interest in me and I really should be happy about it. What would everyone think if they thought I had the hots for my cousin? I certainly don’t want to deal with it.

Of course it isn’t really like I even know her. I think I’ve probably only spent about two weeks with her over my entire life, including this week. She has come out to Boston once or twice and stayed with my folks with her family, but that was quite some time ago. We hung out then, but we were a lot younger and being an only child, I never had anyone to hang out with. Whatever. I’ve got to just drop it and quit thinking about it.

I’m kind missing my folks. Well, not really my folks, but my life that I’ve become accustomed to. I’ve never really spent a lot of time away from Boston and I’m learning that it sucks pretty bad. I really miss my friends, though I guess I didn’t even talk to them before I left on my great Chicago excursion. You know, the more I think about it, the more I fail to understand what I really do miss about home. I mean, I have my room at home, but there really isn’t any more their than what I have here. Sure, my books are there and I can always walk down to the gas station for a pop if I get bored, but overall it’s the same. I suppose I just need to keep things in perspective. Things aren’t really that bad and this place isn’t that different than my regular life. Okay, maybe I lied. Wow, my life kinda sucks.

CHAPTER 3: CHAYA

Chaya slumped down on the recliner and flipped on the television in the den. It was Saturday, and she had been working every day for two weeks. Normally she got Saturday and Sunday off, but Mrs. Morgan had asked her to work again. There really wasn’t anything to do, but Carla Morgan had wanted her there to keep an eye on things in case their visitor, Mr. Klinker from Boston, didn’t get into any trouble. The one thing Chaya realized was that Mrs. Morgan wasn’t going to sacrifice her afternoons to baby-sit her nephew. It was okay with Chaya though. She was getting double time and she and her family could use the money.
She heard footsteps in the kitchen and looked over her shoulder, seeing the Morgan’s house guest rummaging around in the refrigerator. She stopped slouching and straightened up in the chair. Sure, she didn’t answer to the boy in the kitchen and Mrs. Morgan was away but she still felt guilty getting caught sitting around when she was getting paid to work.
Wyatt walked in a flopped down on the leather couch, propping his feet up on the glass of the coffee table, “What’s up?” he asked as he bit into a hastily built bologna sandwich.
“Mr. Klinker, pardon me, but I just cleaned that table and I don’t think Mrs. Morgan would be happy with your feet on it,” Chaya replied, lying about the table and Carla’s reaction.
“When is ‘Mrs. Morgan’ ever happy?” he returned through a full mouth.
This caused Chaya’s mouth to curl up in a smile. Immediately however, she changed her expression, appearing stoic and irritated. “Mrs. Morgan has rules against putting your feet on the furniture. Besides, I don’t want to have to wipe the smudges off of it again. I just cleaned it.”
Wyatt put his feet on the floor drawing a “Thank you” from the housekeeper.
“Do you like working for my Aunt Carla,” he asked her, leaning forward a bit while taking another bite from his sandwich.
“She is very good to work for. Of…of course I like working for her,” she replied with a less than convincing answer.
Wyatt laughed out loud, leading Chaya to stare at him.
“What is so funny,” she asked, becoming irritated by the teen.
“I can’t imagine anyone actually enjoying working for my aunt. Hell, I can’t even stand being around her. I can’t believe anyone would enjoy working for her. You must be some kind of saint or something,” he replied.
Chaya felt a bit embarrassed by the accusation, mostly because it really hit home, “It isn’t easy to find a job,” she explained. “I’ve got three kids that I’ve got to take care of and your aunt pays me decently. There are better jobs, but I’ve not found one yet. She’s isn’t that bad…”
Immediately Wyatt looked at her with that ‘you’re lying to me again’ look and Chaya back tracked, “Well, she’s very strict, but she’s the boss and I guess you have to be…”
“Bullshit,” Wyatt interrupted with a laugh. “My aunt treats everyone like they are beneath her. She does it to me and I bet she does it to you. You mean absolutely nothing to her or this family.”
Chaya looked down at her hands as she wrung them in her lap. What could she say? The boy sitting next to her was completely right. She glanced up but didn’t say anything. Wyatt just stared into her eyes and she once again dropped them to avoid his gaze. She could feel tears starting to well up. She felt humiliated.
She was able to choke out a question, “Why are you saying this to me?”
“Because this is all a load of crap and you shouldn’t have to put up with it, no one should. Lindsey says you have what, three kids?”
She nodded.
“Well why aren’t you spending today with them? It’s a beautiful Saturday and you are stuck here with me. There isn’t anything to do here, the house is spotless. You and I both know that the only reason you are here is that my Aunt Carla wants you to keep and eye on me. Tell me I’m not right?” he pressed.
“You’re right, she admitted. “But I need the money, and Mrs. Morgan does pay me overtime. These is easy money, my kids are okay.”
“Whatever,” Wyatt pressed. “I’m sure they don’t mind you being gone all week and then going to work again on Saturday and Sunday.”
“Well, what do you expect me to do? I can’t bring them here?” she justified.
“Why not? My uncle has a big pool in back, a huge lawn they could play in. It seems to me that you have every right considering you are stuck babysitting me. You might as well watch your own kids as well,” Wyatt continued. “Besides, you could always tell my aunt that you CAN’T work for her unless she’s lets you bring them.”
Chaya considered this for a moment, but before answering Wyatt cut in again, “Just tell her you don’t have a sitter. Tell her you have to bring them in or you can’t work. You think she’s going to let me stay here by myself? There’s no way. She doesn’t trust me.”
“I don’t know,” the housekeeper replied, though Wyatt could feel her cracking.
“You bring your kids in and there is no way in hell my aunt is going to be anywhere near this place. Chances are she would be gone long before you even got here. Come on Chaya. Stand up for yourself and quit letting that old bitch control you,” Wyatt allowed his voice to rise, trying to inspire the young Hispanic woman.
“Why do you care about me and my kids?” she asked him.
“Don’t change the subject Chaya. Are you going to bring them?” he retorted.
“Tell me, Mr. Klinker. Why does it matter if I bring them here or not?” she pressed.
Wyatt looked at her, his blue eyes staring into hers. He was testing her. If she broke eye contact he knew that she would give up on asking. He held her gaze and after a good fifteen seconds she continued to stare into his. She was strong when she wanted to be. He allowed himself to relax and took a deep breath.
“I’m lonely. I hate it here. I don’t fit in with Aunt Carla and Uncle Rich.”
“But what about Lindsey, she’s about your age. Why don’t you hang out with her?” she asked.
“Lindsey is stuck up and snobbish,” he snapped back quickly, as if anticipating the question.
“No she’s not, she’s nice. She’s the only one that will talk to me. You should ask her to do something with you, she would probably enjoy that. She’s here a lot more this summer than she was last year.”
“Listen, I just don’t like her,” Wyatt was visually uncomfortable. “Okay, just drop it.”
“Okay, but I don’t know why you just don’t try to like her. She’s a sweet girl,” she stopped when he glared at her. “So why don’t you go out and do something if you are bored?”
“I’m not bored; I’m just tired of being here by myself. I like being around people, but I don’t know anyone and I’m not entirely comfortable running around Chicago by myself.”
“Chicago isn’t a bad town, you’d be okay. You should try going down to Navy Pier,” she offered.
Wyatt was tired of the focus being on him. He was never comfortable with it, “Maybe sometime, but right now why don’t you just bring your kids over and see how it goes? You know you like the idea. Besides, I’d love to meet them.”
“Okay, I’ll ask her, but you’ve got to promise me that you’ll ask Lindsey to take you out to see the city before you go. Okay?”
Wyatt considered. He was only here for another couple of weeks and it was possible his time would run out before he had to make good on his promise.
“Okay,” he said, seemingly giving in to her request, “it’s a deal.”

July 3rd - Dear Starlog:

Chaya brought her three kids over yesterday. It was pretty cool. Her son, Eduardo is a pretty cool kid. He’s only eight but he acts a lot older. I was nice to actually have someone to hang out with. Her two little girls were pretty nice too. I think Sophia is six and Josephina is four or five.

Aunt Carla was not real happy when Chaya asked her if she could bring her kids over. She walked around here grumbling for two days before finally agreeing. I know she spent at least an hour calling around trying to find someone to come over here. I have no idea why she doesn’t trust me. I think it is a bit of a paranoia complex. It’s not like I stole her mother’s fine china or anything. Hell, I hardly know the lady and she thinks I’m a parolee or something.

Anyway, Chaya brought her kids over at about nine o’clock. I could have sworn Aunt Carla was in the garage waiting for her to pull up so she could immediately race off to where ever she goes to on weekends. It’s pretty sad if you really think about it.

Chaya and I have been talking a lot and she has really loosened up a bit. Yesterday she sat out on the veranda with me as we watched the kids swim. I guess she’s a single mom. Her husband left her about a year ago and she really hasn’t heard from him. She guesses he probably went back to Mexico or was deported. It’s sad to think that he just left his kids here without regard to them. Funny, that’s exactly what my parents did to me, though I suppose being eight and being eighteen are two completely different things. Besides, in two weeks I get to head back to Boston and all this will be behind me.

I wonder what he is like. I can’t really picture Chaya with anyone. I mean she’s cool and everything, but she seems so busy with her work here and her kids. I can’t imagine her going home to a husband.

I was surprises when she told me she was only twenty-seven. I hate to say it but I thought she was older than that. I mean she’s not bad looking, maybe a little chunky, but not ugly at all. She just looks older than twenty-seven. I guess people have said I look a lot younger than eighteen. Appearance is a strange thing.

Chaya asked me again today if I had asked Lindsey to take me into the city. I told her no because I haven’t, and I don’t plan on asking her. I’m just not comfortable around her. That day a week ago really freaked me out and I hate being out of control. I’m probably just crazy, but I’d just as soon play it safe.

Chaya lives on the south side of the city. She says it’s not that nice, but the rent is a lot cheaper. It makes me sick to see someone like her struggling while my aunt just seemingly takes everything for granted. This world is one strange place. I wonder if my aunt was like this when she was younger or if my uncle’s money made her this way. Lindsey doesn’t seem like her. I hope she doesn’t evolve into a she-bitch like her. That would be sad.