I could already tell that the day wasn't going to miraculously be the start of anything spectacularly wonderful. The hot water heater was old and it sometimes did not play nice. Today was one of those sometimes. The water for my shower started off lukewarm and from there went to cold. At least the cold took care of any lingering issues of embarrassing body parts behaving rudely. Hurriedly washed off and jumped out, rubbing the towel briskly over my skin, trying to rub in warmth as it dried the water off of my skin. It didn't work very well, but it did stop me from shivering quite so much as I put on my clothes.
My clothes were nothing special, just jeans, t-shirt and no name sneakers from Wal- mart. I didn't bother with socks as the shoes were beginning to feel a bit tight. I was still growing, my feet especially it seemed. Socks just made the shoes that little bit more unbearable, pinching and rubbing hard against the softer skin and helping blisters along on the heel and side of my big toe. I know I needed new shoes, but asking Dad for the money to buy them was a conversation I didn't want to have. Dad had retired after Mom died, and money was tighter. So I did what I could to help stretch the money as far as it would go, for as long as possible.
Breakfast was plain old cornflakes. That's what the box said anyway. The yellow coloring of the tiny curled up flakes encouraged that belief, but the lack of any flavor belied it. I remembered the taste of real cornflakes- that is brand name ones. The large flakes tasted of sunshine with a hint of sweetness, and Mom would slice a banana and sprinkle the slices over the top. Regular store brand ones might be like that too, but I don't know. We'd gone from brand name to the cheapest of generics just like that. I wish we could at least buy some fruit. Sliced bananas would add at least some taste to this.
I ate quickly then eyed over my homework from the night before. I caught a mistake on my math, and quickly fixed it, then shoved everything into my bag and raced out the door. I had a spare 20 minutes that I could spend in the library, if I hurried along. I hurried along, with my head down, watching where my feet were going and occasionally glancing up through my hair to make sure I wasn't about to run into anyone or anything.
My clothes were nothing special, just jeans, t-shirt and no name sneakers from Wal- mart. I didn't bother with socks as the shoes were beginning to feel a bit tight. I was still growing, my feet especially it seemed. Socks just made the shoes that little bit more unbearable, pinching and rubbing hard against the softer skin and helping blisters along on the heel and side of my big toe. I know I needed new shoes, but asking Dad for the money to buy them was a conversation I didn't want to have. Dad had retired after Mom died, and money was tighter. So I did what I could to help stretch the money as far as it would go, for as long as possible.
Breakfast was plain old cornflakes. That's what the box said anyway. The yellow coloring of the tiny curled up flakes encouraged that belief, but the lack of any flavor belied it. I remembered the taste of real cornflakes- that is brand name ones. The large flakes tasted of sunshine with a hint of sweetness, and Mom would slice a banana and sprinkle the slices over the top. Regular store brand ones might be like that too, but I don't know. We'd gone from brand name to the cheapest of generics just like that. I wish we could at least buy some fruit. Sliced bananas would add at least some taste to this.
I ate quickly then eyed over my homework from the night before. I caught a mistake on my math, and quickly fixed it, then shoved everything into my bag and raced out the door. I had a spare 20 minutes that I could spend in the library, if I hurried along. I hurried along, with my head down, watching where my feet were going and occasionally glancing up through my hair to make sure I wasn't about to run into anyone or anything.
I made it, but found the doors were locked and I could not get into the library s usual. I frowned, wondering why this was, trying to fight off the rising panic in my chest. If I stood out here, I'd be here when the other kids arrived. That would mean I would be here, a standing target for josh or anyone else who felt like bothering me to get at me. This was exactly why I’d wanted to get here and go into the library. If I'd made it into the library, I could have stayed there until the last bell had rung, and then make a quick dash down the mostly empty hall to class. That was obviously no longer an option, so what was I to do now?
As I willed my heart to stop beating so fast, I looked up to find a focal point so I could center myself and calm my breathing. My eyes lit upon the park across the street from the school. I looked fixedly at the trash can at the entrance and an realization came to me. I could go to the park. I knew what time the bells rang, so if I just kept an eye on the time, I could escape there until it was time to go. This decided, I could literally feel the tension melt from my body, my shoulders no longer so tense that my teeth grit against each other.
Yes, I would go to the park. One foot, then another. Step after step, as I made my way to the park, I felt my certainty grow. The trees seemed to beckon to me, and something stirred in the back of my mind. I couldn't quite grasp what it was, but decided it was unimportant. Right now, I simply needed to get to a place I felt safe. A place that my heart and mind told me was up ahead, protected from view by the wrought iron railings and screening shrubbery and trees of Mulberry Square Park. Even the name of the park brought up comforting associations. Mulberry brought to mind my mother, reading me “And To Think That I Saw It On Mulberry Street”. It's kind of hard to stay scared when you have Dr. Seuss on the brain.
I made it across the street, and into the park. I took the path to my left, where I could see a park bench. It was close enough to the entrance that I could make it if I made a dash for it, but not so close that the main path going out the gate that anyone cutting through the park to get to school might see me unless they were really looking. I sat down on the bench, relieved. Then I wondered what to do now. If I'd been at the library, I could have browsed through the books, or sat and read for a few minutes. Here there was nothing unless I wanted to read through my text books, which I decidedly did not wish t do. I decided to sit and just enjoy being in the green space, but as the time stretched out and I glanced at my phone, I realized that 20 minutes here could seem like forever as only four minutes had gone past and it had seemed like ages.
I began jiggling my leg up and down, unable to sit still. This was something I often did and tried hard not to. That and shifting about in my seat. I've always found it extremely hard to simply sit still. I forced my self to stop, then felt my eyes darting about here and there, eager to process all that could be seen. It was then that I noticed him One moment there was simply a tree. The next there was a boy. He seemed to almost melt from within the tree to the outside. I definitely needed to get my eyes checked. In any case, it was the guy I'd seen staring at me the day before. He simply gazed at me silently, brushed a lock of his hair back, and leaned back into the tree. And I do mean INTO the tree. He simply seemed to become one with it.
I began to freak out. Had someone perhaps tampered with the cornflakes we'd gotten? Maybe the milk had been contaminated. Wait, he'd gotten some water up his nose while showering. Maybe it was something in the water. I'd seen where people tried tampering with water supplies, like on cops shows and stuff. What if Dad has had some of whatever it is, and he hallucinated something only he got hurt? I jumped off the bench, and tore off past kids coming up the pavement towards school, people getting out of parked cars, and some guy out walking his dog.
I ran until my shins began to hurt, and knives cut into me with every breath I took, and then I slowed into a trot just long enough to let those turn into dull aches, and then took off again. I ran all the way only to find an empty. Had the car been in the drive when I left? I couldn't remember. I didn't see a note anywhere either. Dad's bed was made, but he was meticulous and always made his bed as soon as he got up so that meant absolutely nothing. No bowls in the sink or in the drainer. Good. That meant he'd been home, washed up and put everything away. But where did he go? And what if it had been in the water or cornflakes and he'd eaten or drank enough of it that he was off driving while imaging all sorts of weird shit?
I couldn't call the cops. They'd think I was nuts. “yes, hello. I think my dad ate some cornflakes and drank coffee made with drug laced water. He might be driving around seeing guys who are trees. I know because I saw a guy only he as a tree.” Yup, they'd come for me instead. Maybe there were no drugs, and he'd simply lost the plot. Maybe I'd hit his head on the steps yesterday and was suffering from a brain injury. That must be it. It'd explain why the people I'd run past looked so normal. It was just me. I'd hit my head and was dreaming while unconscious. None of this is happening. I'm still on the steps, and in just a moment or two, I'll come to and...
I waited. Nothing except the tick, tick, tick of the clock on the side table. No more guys came out of the woodwork though. No little white rabbits either, or cats who turned into smiles, or anything else weird. I glanced at the clock. Shit. I'd missed first period. Might as well not go in now, but if I stayed home, dad might return and wonder why the hell I was here and not at school. I could pretend to be sick, but then he'd get all worried and I couldn't do that to him. I decided to slip into my room and read until I heard him come in. then I could slip out of my window and into the back yard. If I cut across Mrs. Patterson’s backyard behind us, I could catch the bus from the stop in front of her house and spend the rest of the school day at the public library. That decided, I pulled my book from off of my bedside table, and began to read, body half tensed in readiness for the sound of a front door that never opened.
It was past supper time when the knocking began on our front door. Dad still wasn't home, and no on ever came to visit anymore. I looked out the living room window, and spied a police car pulled up in front of our house. I couldn't see the person actually at the door but I could make out what was most likely a dark uniform sleeve like a police officer might wear. I gulped. Was this about Dad? I hoped it wasn't anything too serious. I opened the door.
“Cody Barnaby?” the officer said.
I nodded my head numbly. The officer's eyes softened.
“I'm sorry,” he began.
I never even heard the rest of what it was he said. One look at his sympathy filled eyes as he just just those two words, and my world turned a brilliant white. I had indeed fallen down a rabbit hole. Boys who were trees, and fathers who are gone. I refused to think the word dead. Dead made it so final, like with Mom. I refused to believe that my dad would leave me completely alone. If I didn't hear the words, didn't listen to them, didn't acknowledge them, then I had a chance at climbing back out into my reality.
Mrs. McPherson from next door came over. I don't know if the officer went over to her house, or if she saw his car and came nosying over. It didn't matter. There weren't any casseroles this time. No phones ringing condolences. Just Mrs. McPherson, talking in hushed tones with the officer, then going into where our bedrooms were, emerging with a handful of my clothes, and returning to her home with them. This version of me followed her. I knew I had to play along, discover the rules. Then I could play them all at their own game, and find my way back. Back to where Dad was going to come home, we'd nuke a couple of frozen dinners, and trees definitely did not have people inside of them.
As I willed my heart to stop beating so fast, I looked up to find a focal point so I could center myself and calm my breathing. My eyes lit upon the park across the street from the school. I looked fixedly at the trash can at the entrance and an realization came to me. I could go to the park. I knew what time the bells rang, so if I just kept an eye on the time, I could escape there until it was time to go. This decided, I could literally feel the tension melt from my body, my shoulders no longer so tense that my teeth grit against each other.
Yes, I would go to the park. One foot, then another. Step after step, as I made my way to the park, I felt my certainty grow. The trees seemed to beckon to me, and something stirred in the back of my mind. I couldn't quite grasp what it was, but decided it was unimportant. Right now, I simply needed to get to a place I felt safe. A place that my heart and mind told me was up ahead, protected from view by the wrought iron railings and screening shrubbery and trees of Mulberry Square Park. Even the name of the park brought up comforting associations. Mulberry brought to mind my mother, reading me “And To Think That I Saw It On Mulberry Street”. It's kind of hard to stay scared when you have Dr. Seuss on the brain.
I made it across the street, and into the park. I took the path to my left, where I could see a park bench. It was close enough to the entrance that I could make it if I made a dash for it, but not so close that the main path going out the gate that anyone cutting through the park to get to school might see me unless they were really looking. I sat down on the bench, relieved. Then I wondered what to do now. If I'd been at the library, I could have browsed through the books, or sat and read for a few minutes. Here there was nothing unless I wanted to read through my text books, which I decidedly did not wish t do. I decided to sit and just enjoy being in the green space, but as the time stretched out and I glanced at my phone, I realized that 20 minutes here could seem like forever as only four minutes had gone past and it had seemed like ages.
I began jiggling my leg up and down, unable to sit still. This was something I often did and tried hard not to. That and shifting about in my seat. I've always found it extremely hard to simply sit still. I forced my self to stop, then felt my eyes darting about here and there, eager to process all that could be seen. It was then that I noticed him One moment there was simply a tree. The next there was a boy. He seemed to almost melt from within the tree to the outside. I definitely needed to get my eyes checked. In any case, it was the guy I'd seen staring at me the day before. He simply gazed at me silently, brushed a lock of his hair back, and leaned back into the tree. And I do mean INTO the tree. He simply seemed to become one with it.
I began to freak out. Had someone perhaps tampered with the cornflakes we'd gotten? Maybe the milk had been contaminated. Wait, he'd gotten some water up his nose while showering. Maybe it was something in the water. I'd seen where people tried tampering with water supplies, like on cops shows and stuff. What if Dad has had some of whatever it is, and he hallucinated something only he got hurt? I jumped off the bench, and tore off past kids coming up the pavement towards school, people getting out of parked cars, and some guy out walking his dog.
I ran until my shins began to hurt, and knives cut into me with every breath I took, and then I slowed into a trot just long enough to let those turn into dull aches, and then took off again. I ran all the way only to find an empty. Had the car been in the drive when I left? I couldn't remember. I didn't see a note anywhere either. Dad's bed was made, but he was meticulous and always made his bed as soon as he got up so that meant absolutely nothing. No bowls in the sink or in the drainer. Good. That meant he'd been home, washed up and put everything away. But where did he go? And what if it had been in the water or cornflakes and he'd eaten or drank enough of it that he was off driving while imaging all sorts of weird shit?
I couldn't call the cops. They'd think I was nuts. “yes, hello. I think my dad ate some cornflakes and drank coffee made with drug laced water. He might be driving around seeing guys who are trees. I know because I saw a guy only he as a tree.” Yup, they'd come for me instead. Maybe there were no drugs, and he'd simply lost the plot. Maybe I'd hit his head on the steps yesterday and was suffering from a brain injury. That must be it. It'd explain why the people I'd run past looked so normal. It was just me. I'd hit my head and was dreaming while unconscious. None of this is happening. I'm still on the steps, and in just a moment or two, I'll come to and...
I waited. Nothing except the tick, tick, tick of the clock on the side table. No more guys came out of the woodwork though. No little white rabbits either, or cats who turned into smiles, or anything else weird. I glanced at the clock. Shit. I'd missed first period. Might as well not go in now, but if I stayed home, dad might return and wonder why the hell I was here and not at school. I could pretend to be sick, but then he'd get all worried and I couldn't do that to him. I decided to slip into my room and read until I heard him come in. then I could slip out of my window and into the back yard. If I cut across Mrs. Patterson’s backyard behind us, I could catch the bus from the stop in front of her house and spend the rest of the school day at the public library. That decided, I pulled my book from off of my bedside table, and began to read, body half tensed in readiness for the sound of a front door that never opened.
It was past supper time when the knocking began on our front door. Dad still wasn't home, and no on ever came to visit anymore. I looked out the living room window, and spied a police car pulled up in front of our house. I couldn't see the person actually at the door but I could make out what was most likely a dark uniform sleeve like a police officer might wear. I gulped. Was this about Dad? I hoped it wasn't anything too serious. I opened the door.
“Cody Barnaby?” the officer said.
I nodded my head numbly. The officer's eyes softened.
“I'm sorry,” he began.
I never even heard the rest of what it was he said. One look at his sympathy filled eyes as he just just those two words, and my world turned a brilliant white. I had indeed fallen down a rabbit hole. Boys who were trees, and fathers who are gone. I refused to think the word dead. Dead made it so final, like with Mom. I refused to believe that my dad would leave me completely alone. If I didn't hear the words, didn't listen to them, didn't acknowledge them, then I had a chance at climbing back out into my reality.
Mrs. McPherson from next door came over. I don't know if the officer went over to her house, or if she saw his car and came nosying over. It didn't matter. There weren't any casseroles this time. No phones ringing condolences. Just Mrs. McPherson, talking in hushed tones with the officer, then going into where our bedrooms were, emerging with a handful of my clothes, and returning to her home with them. This version of me followed her. I knew I had to play along, discover the rules. Then I could play them all at their own game, and find my way back. Back to where Dad was going to come home, we'd nuke a couple of frozen dinners, and trees definitely did not have people inside of them.
©2013-2014 Lillian McKinnon. All Rights Reserved.
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