Sugar Valley (Hollywood's Darkest Secret) by Stephen Andrew Salamon Read Free Book Online Page A

at Greg, for allowing him to stay there, and have his
father see him and catch him. But, he still had a chance; his
father didn’t know, yet, about his true plan, and that gave a
little hope to Damen’s tired mind.
    “Don’t you think you’re a little too old for
sleepovers?” his father questioned. He went over to the
refrigerator and grabbed a carton of milk from it, and Damen just
stared at Greg, hoping that he would do something, would save the
day, and completely redeem himself as an older brother. “See, now
you’re going to be tired for work. I told you, if you want to be a
good farmer, you have to get to bed early,” his father stated,
pouring the milk into a glass.
    The anger was too unbearable to keep in
anymore, any longer, so Damen whispered in a low, low tone, “That’s
just it, I don’t want to be a farmer.” Greg heard his words
perfectly, but his father just heard a bunch of whispers.
    His father turned for a moment, stared at
Damen, and asked, “What was that?”
    “I said, ‘I know, Dad, I’m sorry’. We just
stayed up late, catching fish in the Valley,” he answered. His
father turned back around, faced the refrigerator, and began
drinking the milk.
    “And what are you doing up at this time?” his
father asked Greg. Damen hoped in his mind that Greg wouldn’t
squeal on him. So he closed his eyes, and in a sort of way, prayed
for a miracle, prayed that Greg’s words would be on his side,
instead of against him.
    Greg looked at his father and turned to Damen
for an instant. He looked at Damen’s eyelids, how they were sealed
shut; he knew what he had to do. “I was just getting a glass of
milk.” Damen opened his eyes and looked at Greg with fear in them.
“Damen scared me when he came in the door, so I dropped the glass
on the ground,” Greg added, winking at Damen.
    “Oh ... well clean up the mess and get to
bed. As for you, Damen, I want you to get to bed right away, at
least you’ll have an hour to get some shut-eye. Today I’m going to
show you how to use your tractor.” He put down the half-drunk milk
glass, and began to walk back up the stairs to his bedroom.
    “Great, alright, Paps,” said Damen with
generic enthusiasm. He watched his father reach the second floor,
and then looked at Greg. He spoke softly. “Thank you.”
    “You’re welcome.” Damen grabbed his book bag
and ran outside ever so quickly. “Hey ... I promise I won’t tell
them a thing, Damen,” he added before Damen slammed the door shut,
causing his father’s milk glass to tip over and spill all over the
table, including the letter.
    Damen stepped off his porch and walked into
the darkness that was fading ever so quickly; dying with the break
of sunrise. He turned around to have one last look at what he’s
leaving behind. Looking at the new tractor his father bought for
him, the tractor his father said would make him a farmer, and
staring at the white, farmhouse he grew up in, Damen gave a moment
of silence. That’s when he ran. He ran for his destiny, a destiny
that would be his alone.
    When he arrived at the train station, he saw
Jose and Darell with sad looks on their faces. Instead of going
over to them, to find out what was the cause of their dreadful
expressions, he ran toward a dirt road first that was behind the
station. Damen saw the road, lined up with cornfields on both
sides, seeing pebbles on the ground that were older than him, and
then looked up at a sign that read Welcome To Ridge Crest,
Population 500. He gave a rapid smile, reaching into his bag, and
pulling out a roll of white tape and a black marker; he looked
around and about to see if any strangers were lurking. Suddenly,
his vision told him the coast was clear, so he took the white tape,
peeled three strips from its roll, and covered the number “500,”
making it invisible to the naked eye. Damen Schultz then took his
black marker and wrote on the white tape, next to “population,” the
numbers 497, and laughed out