~*~

Home. I turned the key as silently as possible, but that lock seemed bent on letting the whole neighborhood know that I was back. I turned the knob and peered inside to see living room lamps lit and mom sitting in her easy chair with a book and a cup of coffee. Seeing that she was awake anyway, there wasn’t really any need to stay quiet.

 “Hey,” I said, stepping in. She glanced up in surprise.

 “Well, that didn’t take long. I thought you’d be out for another hour at least.” She marked her place with a pink ribbon and took off her square-frames, smiling. “How was it?”

  “Eh.” I shrugged my heavy duffle off my shoulder and collapsed onto the couch.

  “‘Eh’? Wow. Slow down, son, I can hardly keep up with all this information.” Her pretty mouth twisted into a sly half-grin. “Maybe some coffee will loosen your tongue.” My mom stood up and walked to the kitchen, as I glanced at her book. Hamlet. Ugh. How could she read that stuff for fun? My mom was a major Shakespeare buff. She returned with two full cups of coffee and handed one to me. I was suspicious. Coffee at eleven o’clock? “So, what was so “eh” about this party? I thought you said it was going to be fun.” She took a sip and I tried not to laugh at the foamy mustache on her lips.

 

 Without thinking I replied, “I never said that.”

 “So it wasn’t going to be fun? Then why did you go?” Her brows rose.

 “That’s not what I meant.” But wait, wasn’t it? Sometimes my mom was too good at reading my thoughts. “It was fine, I guess is what I mean. But I have a lot of homework, like you said, so I left early. I should be starting on that.” I stood up.

 “You don’t have to start now, do you? Its late.”

 “Well now that you’ve given me coffee, I’ll be up all night.”

 “Yours is decaf.” She sighed. “Oh alright, go live your life. I know you don’t want to let your old mother in on all your secrets.” Feigning self-pity, she opened up her Hamlet and the pink ribbon fluttered to the floor. I retrieved it and gave her a kiss. Then I was up the stairs before Shakespeare could say, “Who’s there?”

~*~

“I want you to do this assignment. Really do it. I think you’ll enjoy it if you let yourself.”

What did he mean by that? Mr. Thorpe was often vague to the point of obscurity. I sat at my desk rereading my scribbled notes from that morning---could it really only be less than 24 hours ago?

There it was: Find a blog that interests you and write a short summary of what you find. Due monday.

That was all. It was one of the smallest assignments he’d given us this whole year.

 

That’s it? I thought. What’s so important about that?

 

I flipped open my laptop, and punched in my password. Blogger. I began searching. Most of them looked boring, boring, boring. I glanced back down at the words in my notebook.

. . .that interests you . . .

What was I interested in? Baseball? Sure. What else? Right now I was mostly interested in buying a car, but I doubted there’d be too many blogs about that. I was in the middle of reading Bob Chamsky’s blog, “Cars, Trucks and Automobiles” and thinking about what a dumb name that was, since cars and trucks are automobiles, when a soft sudden sound from downstairs caught my ear. I crept to the door and peeked out through the dim light.  

Her Hamlet lying forgotten on the floor, my mom was standing at the window.

She was crying.

~*~

Ally’s place was trashed. It was the first big party of the almost-summer weather, and apparently people had spent most of the evening in the yard, throwing cans around and leaving plastic forks scattered on the lawn. A fire was sending up a cloud of hazy smoke and about thirty kids were huddled around it, even though the night was super warm for mid March. They were roasting marshmallows and talking. Michael and Richie had their guitars out and were playing some summery sounding music, and the others were singing and laughing rowdily. I stashed my bike next to Denny’s car and walked up across the grass, feeling more guilty with every step. I was ashamed to be a contributor to the sorry state of Mr. Anderson’s once perfect, velvety grass. I swallowed, as my arrival was met with the cheerful calling of my name. I fist-bumped a few of the guys and sat down on the ground next to the fire.

 

 “Hey dude. You made it.” Jesse grinned.

 

 “Capt’n, you were on fire today.” Jackson garbled, his face bulging with marshmallows. At that moment Ally and a trail of whispering girls poured out of the front door like ants. Ally’s face looked pinched, like she was sucking on a lemon wedge, but it changed as soon as she saw me, going from irritated anger to pretended cool indifference. She brushed past me, her blonde curls bouncing against her shoulders, to go sit on the opposite side of the fire next to Jesse.

 Avoiding her eyes, I replied, “Thanks Jack. I’m starting to think that it’s gonna be a pretty good season for use.” His eyes danced and he raised his can to me.

 “I think so too, capt’n. Here’s to a great game next weekend.”

 

  “Aye!” A few other guys from the team joined in the toast. I forced a smile, feeling Denny’s burning gaze pouring into me, hotter than the bonfire. I felt sick, and suddenly ten times worse when I realized that Ally’s parents weren’t around anywhere. I’d told my mom that they’d be there, fully believing it. I glanced around to the side yard, where the motorhome was usually parked. It wasn’t there.

 

Crap. They must be out of town. Another reason to feel guilty. I had no doubts that I’d be grilled when I got home.

 

 “Hey.” Denny’s hand on my shoulder startled me. His eyes were dark and full of Standish anger as he jerked his head towards the side yard. “Come here a minute.” Without another word, he stalked off. Sighing, I eased my sore legs up and went after him. Once out of sight of the bonfire, Denny erupted. “What the heck are you doing here?! Like, what’s this whole deal with you and Ally. She thinks that you two are all like together and stuff. How could you do that behind my back?”

 

 “What?!” My eyes grew double their normal size. He glared at me, his hands clenched at his sides. What the heck is happening? I thought. And girls wonder why we think they're weird.

 “You could’ve at least talked to me.” His dark brows narrowed bitterly. Stammering, I tried to defend myself.

 

 “Dude, I swear I didn’t do anything that could---”

 

 “Oh, save it.” He shoved me backwards, slamming my already stiff back against the Andersons’ tool shed. “I wouldn’t believe anything you said now anyway.” Cussing at me, my best friend stormed off. Breathless, I watched him go, confused and feeling panic rising in my chest. Was this real? This whole crazy day seemed like a dream. I flashed back to my morning English class and Mr. Thorpe’s strange words:   “I want you to do this assignment. Really do it. I think you’ll enjoy it if you let yourself.”

 

After that had been the unexpectedly incredible practice, my mom’s even-more-than-usual overprotectiveness, and now this. Everything was wrong. Everything felt wrong. My mind roiled and flip-flopped as I leaned against Ally Anderson’s tool shed, feeling as if my world had suddenly fallen apart. Anger burned in the pit of my stomach. What had I ever done to Ally that would make her do this to me, this worst possible of crimes, turning a guy against his best friend? I could feel a volcano of hot lava bubbling up inside me, daring me to hate the world. I knew at that moment that I had to leave before all that mass of hot rock came flowing out in the form of infuriated words. A few minutes more and I wouldn’t be able to stop it.

 

~*~

 

 “Nathan! Nathan, where are you going? You just got here!” Ally trotted after me as I stomped across the yard.

 

  “Home.” I said simply, not trusting myself to say more.

 

  “Why?” She sounded so pitiful, so injured and so disappointed that I almost felt sorry for her in spite of myself. My temper cooled. Heaving a sigh, I turned around, fumbling for words.

 

 “Look Ally....I’m just...busy, right now. I gotta go ok?” I mounted my bike and peddled like there was an angry clown with a meat cleaver chasing me. She shouted after me, but I didn’t look back.

 

~*~

I was just untying my apron around ten o’clock when my cell rang. I answered it, expecting my mom’s worried voice, demanding with motherish urgency to know why I was late. Instead it was Ally Anderson.

 “Hey, Nathan. Denny said you were coming by with him. Why aren’t you here?” Her voice, usually trained to be carefully coy around me, had a sharp edge to it, as if she was actually angry that I hadn’t showed. Something about her question, and the way she asked it, annoyed me.

 “Well I’m loaded down with homework,” I began, then stopped abruptly, sensing through the phone and the air waves and the two miles in between me and Ally that she wouldn’t buy an excuse. So without knowing exactly why I said, “I guess I’ll be by in fifteen. See you.” Beep. Appalled at my words, I questioned my own sanity. Ally was the love of Denny’s life, strictly off-limits to his best pal. Everyone knew that, especially me. Everyone but Ally. I sometimes wondered if it was just Denny that made me keep my distance. I’d known her forever, and she was nice, cute, funny and even sweet. But there was something about her. Like maybe somehow she was too sweet. Her sweetness had a sugary quality about it: processed, unnatural, and probably really bad for me. I’d always felt that way without really knowing why. I’d never thought of Ally as a problem until now. Her persistent pestering was getting to be downright annoying, and Denny was going to flip if I wasn’t careful. I pondered this sudden predicament as I headed for the door, startled when my phone suddenly rang again.

 “Hello?”

  “Nathan! Thank God. Where are you?” My mom sounded more worried than I’d thought. As I suspected, she hadn’t been listening when I told her about my late shift and the party.

  “Mom, remember I told you I was working late tonight? And one of my friends is having kids over. I’m headed there now.”

  “Oh, I completely forgot. Wait, like a party? Who all is going? Where is it? And are there going to be adults there? Don’t forget you have homework.”

  “Eh, its just kids. And its at the Anderson’s. I’m sure Ally’s mom and dad will be there.” Like they’d let high-strung, flirty Ally have a party without them crouching over her shoulder at all times. “And I’ll get my homework done on time. I’ve got all weekend Mom.”

  “Ok, if you think you’ll have enough time. But call before you come home.”

I struggled to force back a sigh. “Ok Mom.” She said nothing, but it felt like the wrong time to hang up on my mother. “Well, I’ll be home in a bit. Don’t wait up ok?”

 “Ok, have fun.” The phone clicked. Even though she said she wouldn’t wait up, I knew she would. Feeling a sudden uneasy guiltiness (whether it was because of Ally’s conversation or Mom’s, I couldn’t tell) I shouted goodbye to Mr. Bell and hopped on my bike.

Why does it suddenly feel like this day has lasted twenty years? I wondered.

~*~

A chorus of voices called out my name when I kicked open the swinging kitchen door. I grinned at my friends’ faces as they watched my entrance: I had  a pizza in each hand, and even one balanced on my head. For some reason I was feeling risky that night. Besides, the pizzas were only three dollars, so I could afford to replace it if I did drop one, although I was almost positive I wouldn’t. That was the other great thing about Hester’s: the prices. And I’ll admit, the place had atmosphere. Candles on the tables and posters from the fifties all over the walls. As I brought the first batch of orders out I saw that Hester’s was at its finest that night: packed with my classmates having a good time. Tim Devers and his new fiancee Karen Lee were sitting in the corner booth just staring at one another with that young-love kind of glow. It made me kind of sick to watch them, but I didn’t join in the jeers of my classmates like I would have at school. After all, they were customers, no matter how stupid they were getting engaged at eighteen.

 “Hey, I thought Denny said you were going over to Ally’s after practice?” Jesse called out to me as I brought his table a platter that smelled as if it came straight from Hawaii. Most of my single-pringle junior  friends were at this table. The single seniors sat at another table and the rest of the parlour was paired up. It was that time of year when most of the older kids are in the “star-struck” phase of their relationships, just before they figure out how weird the other person is and things start to go south fast. From February to March there’s a kind of drama plateau that happens right before all the break-ups hit. Single myself, I was enjoying the peace.

 “I might drop by after my shift. If I have time.” I answered Jesse, filling waters. Jenny Hudgins pushed her glass over shyly, giving me that nervous half-smile. I smiled back, sending a rush of red into her face. Poor Jenny. She always got that silly look on her face whenever I smiled at her, so most of the time, out of sympathy, I’d just ignore her.

“I hope I have time. I’ve got to get that stupid test done before Monday. I can’t believe Gregson gave us a take home test after all those worksheets we just turned in!” Jesse continued indignantly. Mrs. Gregson was the notorious math teacher at Wakanakee. Algebra 2 had been cut-throat all year, and some of the kids were close to snapping, Jesse being one of them. Even Denny hated Mrs. Gregson.

 

 “I know, man. It sucks.” I shook my head, warding off a yawn. Jesse laughed at me.

 

 “Am I that boring?” He joked.

 I laughed too, mid-yawn.  “Sorry, dude, I’m just burnt out from practice.” Grimacing, he nodded understanding. Jesse was the track champion of Wakanakee High, and a tougher runner I’d never seen. 

  “Here,” he handed me my tip and added, “Go buy yourself a Red Bull or something, and make it through tonight. We’re gonna party!”

~*~

Mr. James Bell Sr. had started the business way back in 1964. He called it Bell Diner, and it was a miserable failure, even for a Wakanakee diner. James Bell Jr. had taken it over when he was just eighteen after his daddy died in a car wreck on a trip to the city. After that it became Hester’s, and the stories started to spin. No Wakanakee girl was named Hester. So of course, the ladies started talking.

 “Jimmy Bell’s got some city girl he’s bringing out here.” They had whispered and buzzed like bees before Jimmy Bell even got the “Hester’s” sign up on the diner door. And just like that, business took off. My Aunt Ida told me the story and said it seemed like just yesterday, though of course she was only seven when it happened. My mom wasn’t even born yet. Aunt Ida said that curiosity was just dripping over the rumor, and every family in town went to the grand reopening of Hester’s in the hopes of hearing Jimmy talk about it. So it happened that all of Wakanakee was there when Mrs. Roday, the gossiper of gossipers, broached the subject. She sat right up at the counter and asked pluckily: “So, Jimmy there’s a rumor about that this Hester of yours is coming in soon from the big city. When do the lot of us get to meet her?” As if it were the most casual thing in the world and nobody in particular was interested, when in reality, the whole parlour was leaning in to hear his answer. Jimmy, who was shy even then, just smiled and said softly, “Well gee, Mrs. Roday. I expect she’ll be along.” And went about his work.

Its gone on like that for years. To this day if anybody ever asks Mr. Bell about Hester he’ll just smile and say softly, “Well gee, I expect she’ll be along.”

I started working at Hester’s when I was sixteen, and by this particular Friday night I’d pretty much grown used to Mr. Bell being so shy. It never bothered me, because when I was real young, I was pretty shy too. By the time I got to highschool though I’d been branded both class clown and most likely to succeed, due to my clackity tongue. “Most likely to succeed,” however is really just code for, “You’re popular.” I was a jock, and everybody’s friend besides. I guess the point is that I could make small talk with just about anybody, even someone as quiet as Mr. Bell. At first I chattered to fill the silence. I could see that he was almost enjoying hearing the dramas of high school life. Maybe it made him feel young again. And it was nice, you know? I never had to worry about Mr. Bell telling blabbing I said, so I could just stand there helping him with the pizza’s and spilling my guts about anything I liked,. He always just stood there nodding and smiling that quiet, not-too-sure smile of his.  But there were nights too when I’d talk and Mr. Bell didn’t even seem to hear me or know that I was in the room. That’s why his last kitchen boy, Bill Thomas, quit. He’d said it gave him the creeps when Mr. Bell would space out like that. But I didn’t mind it so much. It was on those nights when he got that vacant, lonely look in his eyes that I couldn’t help wondering if there really was a Hester, and Mr. Bell was still hoping that she’d be along.

~*~

Practice was brutal, but I didn’t mind. Somehow the pain was keeping me going, making me want to push through. I closed my eyes, as I did every time before the ball sailed through the air. Then the push of leathery skin against my bat shocked me awake. This time, though, something was different. I can normally get a pretty decent hit, decent enough to win me team captain, but this time was definitely different. My arms seemed to fly onward, upward, as if they didn’t want to watch that ball go. Then the baseball was flying, straight, true, far and fast. Mason ran hard, but he couldn’t catch up to my perfect homer. It soared over the fence. Speechless, I stood there watching.

 “Dang, Hunter. Where’d that come from?” Collins whispered beside me. Gus Collins was  big kid, trained to tackle hard during football season. He’d been crouching behind me, but even old Gus couldn’t keep off his feet when that ball began to fly.

 “I don’t know.” I laughed suddenly, giddy with my success. Coach was looking at me in a suspicious kind of surprise. My teammates looked shocked. Then suddenly they were all slapping me on the back, joking and jeering, a sure way to tell that they were pretty excited.

~*~

  “Hey, Nathan," Mr. Bell called out cheerily from inside the kitchen as I stealthily camouflaged my bike behind some bushes. I didn’t have the time to bother with a bike lock, but I couldn’t afford to just leave it there. After all, Wakanakee was small, but not that small, and let’s face it, there are jerks everywhere.

 “Hey, Mr. Bell.” I called back. Hopping the hedge, I walked up the steps and in through the back door, every muscle screaming at me, burning like fire with soreness.  

 “I heard you hit quite a nice fastball today.” My boss murmured quietly, his blue eyes jigging. The lines about them crinkled up so even with his white moustache feathered out over his mouth, I knew he was smiling. He was already hard at work: weather-beaten hands poised over a batch of pepperoni.

I laughed. “Yeah, I guess you could say that.”

“Well I surely do appreciate you’re coming in to work today even though it must have been a tough practice.” With that, he turned back to the pepperoni on the cutting board. I nodded, tying my apron around my waist, and grimacing as my arms protested even this slight movement. Coach had worked us hard, even after regular practice time ended. The man seemed...different. After my hit, instead of seeming excited, he almost got tougher. I remember Coach as he was last year, jovial and  warrior-ish. He’d been the force that drove us, not with threats but with inspiration. Now there was a dark moodiness that hung about him like a cloud. He seemed like another person completely, and none of us knew why. He wasn’t himself, and it was killing the team.

 “It sure was.” I answered, drifting back to reality in Hester’s backroom kitchen. “Got a crowd tonight?” I asked, peeking out into the restaurant. Hester’s was an old-fashioned pizza parlour and it had been the hot spot for young people in Wakanakee for as long as I could remember. Tonight being friday, the place was packed. Seeing the hoard of teenagers laughing and sloshing their pop on the floor, I was glad I had come, even if I was tired. Mr. Bell was getting older and needed all the help he could get, especially with a wild crowd like this. “Whoo boy. I guess  I better suit up and get to work.” He grinned at me shyly and nodded. Mr. Bell never said much. When strangers came to town and everyone recommended Hester’s as the best place to eat, they would come in expecting the typical every-man’s-friend small town restaurant host. Then when Mr. Bell did nothing but smile, they always wondered how such a shy man had such good business. But that’s only because strangers don’t know the story.

~*~

The whole class groaned, and I groaned with them. I was maybe the groaniest groaner of all, because, after all, I had a reputation to uphold. For jocks, groaning at homework assignments is mandatory.

 “I know, I know. This homework stuff, right? It just sends you over the edge sometimes doesn’t it?” Mr. Thorpe shook his head in sarcastic sympathy. He waited  for the class to shush and then continued seriously. “However, you might actually find something you like. Anything is possible after all. Don’t know about you, but I think blogs can be pretty interesting. I want you guys to go to blogger and browse around. You’re gonna find one or two blogs that interest you ,” He paused to let that last bit sink in before going on. “...and write a little summary of what you read. That’s due Monday. Got it??” His head swiveled around, stabbing a few different kids with piercing dark eyes. Those eyes somehow made an ordinary homework assignment seem like something that held your whole destiny together. I was hoping to escape without them sticking into me, but some strange, secret part of my soul sensed that I wouldn’t. So when Mr. Thorpe dismissed the class without glancing my way, I was surprised. The rustling of books and papers and juicy gossip gobbets flying about set my heart to beating faster. One class down, only four to go until I was free for the weekend. Something about that first class being over always makes my backpack feel a little lighter.

  “Dude, do we have that extra practice tonight or tomorrow?” Denny asked as he jingled his keys. Denny never bothered with a backpack. Probably because he never brought any books to school. Instead he’d just pick a victim, usually some really cute, studious girl, and peek over her shoulder at her book. Doing that somehow earned him straight A’s in all his classes. Denny always pretended not to care about his grades, but one time he’d been home with pinkeye for two weeks straight and he got an F on a math test his first day back. It was the only time I ever saw him cry, even though I’d known him since first grade. He always claimed that it was just the pinkeye making his eyes water. But I know crying when I see it.

 “I think tonight.” I replied. We started for the door.

 “Dang. I was hoping to hang at Ally’s tonight. She’s having a party.” I noticed he said it like he hoped I didn’t know. Of course I knew. Ally Anderson hadn’t had a party without inviting me since we were in middle school.

 “She said we could stop by after practice if we wanted. I guess kids’ll be there pretty late.” I said, shrugging indifference. I watched his face and saw obvious annoyance. Pulling out a water bottle, I stifled a smirk and started chugging. If we were going to have practice tonight, I’d need to start hydrating now, before it was too late, and I wasn’t going to waste energy teasing Denny about Ally Anderson.

“Nathan,” Mr. Thorpe said suddenly from behind me. Shoot. I thought. I’m not going to get off easy after all. And here I was thinking I’d just get the look, not an actual talking to.

“Uh, yeah what’s up Mr. T?” I glanced at Denny for moral support but the coward fled the room before our teacher could rope him into the lecture too. Everyone else in my class was gone, and for some reason the sophomores were taking their time coming in.

I approached the teacher chair at the front of the room where Mr. Thorpe sat in front of his computer, hands loosely folded in front of him, staring at the ceiling. I knew from experience that he was thinking of just the right way to say what he wanted to say to me. So I waited, not sure what to expect.

When he finally spoke, he didn’t say much:

 “I want you to do this assignment. Really do it. I think you’ll enjoy it if you let yourself.” He took his eyes off the white-washed ceiling and stared deeply into mine with that dark, probing gaze that seemed to hint at the knowledge of things unspoken. I nodded, feeling somehow that this was the single most important piece of instruction that I would ever get in high school.

Twas Twilight who called with a dance in his heart

Twas Twilight who called with a dance in his heart

On that starry bright eve, mid April--no, March

On the step he did stand, winking those brows

Nay would he enter, but instead called me out

Both a friend of the day and a son of the night

A curious fellow, that Monsieur Twilight

We waltzed til the Dawn took his place at my side

And with a wink and a kiss he bid me goodbye

~

The rain's falling down
Making stains on the pavement
They match the stains on my hands and the drops dripping down
I smile with my mouth but my eyes can't, won't, do it
I don't know how
And my mind won't stop wandering from the here and the now

A foggy car window
Its the mirror to my heart
I slam the car door
Holding it together just long enough to fall apart

I'm here in this safe place
Flowers dancing on the walls
But somehow even here
I don't feel home at all

I remember the old days
When summer got old and
There was a million reasons to smile
When we met I saw you and I saw through your eyes
A beautiful heart
You just couldn't disguise if you tried

Your words on the paper
Stare up at me now
And all these months later
I can still see that hand-me-down smile

You said, "Call anytime."
Oh how those words echo when I'm feelin' all alone
And I
Try not to fall apart again
Cuz these spring days still feel cold

That letter in my drawer
Still calls me every now and then
And I remember how you held me and I never wanted you to let go
But summer was old
And time ran out for you and me and we can't be

The rain's falling down
Making stains on the pavement
And I'm sittin' here in my safe place with that letter in my hand
The number you left
Is begging me to call it
And I can still feel your arms and see that smile through my teary-eyed gaze

After all this time
Everyone I've been and everyone I never thought I'd be again
I can see you like yesterday
Was the day we said goodbye
And that pale blue t-shirt
The smell of summer in the air

And everything I learned and knew
And forgot across the months of work and days of doubt
Forgetting me and you
And why and when and how
It was the first time I ever really fell in head over heels
It was simple summer love
 

Persephone

Persephone Penelope Peterson was having a bad day.

The eggs burned, the curlers broke and the dog peed on the cat before she'd even made it out the door to the first day of work at Billy Bob's Pizza Palace. Billy Bob's Pizza Palace should have been called, "Drop Your Annoying Kids Off Here While You Go To A Nice Restaurant."

Persephone hated kids, but Billy Bob's was the only place that offered to hire her and so was the only way to earn money that summer in the small town of Aniana, Alabama. And Persephone Penelope Peterson needed money. She had a very special secret dream, and unfortunately today, very special secret dreams often require funds to give them that "could actually come true" factor.

So Persephone told Billy Bob that she would be the Pizza Princess for the summer, earning minimum wage and telling the kids to stop throwing pepperoni on the Pizza Pony.

Dear Rain

Dear Rain,
I really thought we were over. Apparently not. I'm sorry, but I have to ask you to leave. Me and Sunshine are total besties now and this just isn't going to work out since you two can't even be in the same sky together.

Sincerely, Me

P.S. Please take your clouds with you.

Wolf Part 3

He calls me by name this time. Instinctively, I drop my bucket into the well. The last time it took two hours to get it out again.
I hear the cry.

And I look around.

All the people are looking at me, waiting to see what I'll do. They turn their backs.

"Wolf!"

His voice rings out, panicked and distant. They won't go. They don't believe him now, don't believe he's worth it. Its just another lie. That's what they're thinking. And I'm thinking it too.

But is it worth the risk?

The bucket's already in the well, so what have I got to lose? I start to run.

Wolf Part 2

The sun is barely up when I let my bucket down into the well, next morning. And as soon as I do, I hear it again.

"Wolf! Hurry! Wolf!"

 I feel the rope slither through my hands and then all I can see is the village whizzing by. I taste bile in my mouth and feel the beat of a drum in my wrists.

"I'm coming!" I scream, visions of blood against white wool chilling me. It's not the sheep's blood. I feel tears start in my eyes. The villagers run out after me, fearing for their sheep. It's the wool they're thinking of, not him.

I crash into him at the bottom of the hill, and he pulls me to my feet laughing. Disbelieving, I stare warily into those sea green eyes.

"This is another joke?" The villagers come stampeding down the hill with their pitchforks and knives brandished.

"Surprise!" He slaps his knee in devilish merriment, not seeing the tears in my eyes. I brush them away quickly. The people are angry this time, and my shepherd boy is in trouble.

"Enough of this!"

"String him up before he wears us out with this nonsense!"

"Find someone else to tend the flock!"

"Enough of your mischief!"

Their voices ring angrily through the meadow like stones breaking the tranquility of a pond's smooth surface. Fighting my own anger, I rise to his defense. I see confusion in his eyes, but no repentance. Still, I can't let them do this. He's my friend.

"Give him one more chance." I plead. They let him go, stalking back up the hill. Their mutters are heard, condemning and impatient. My shepherd boy looks at me, sheepish with guilt.

"It was just a joke."

But it wasn't.

I shrug grimly and walk slowly back up the hill.

Wolf Part 1

I'm in the village, at the well when I hear the screams. Heart thudding, I recognize the voice right away. Its my friend. He's a farm boy, well, a shepherd actually. Dropping my pail, I run as fast as I can towards the sound. The water runs down the hill with me, slipping through the cobbled streets like a snake urging me on with its venomous tongue. I'm trying not to hear the word my friend is calling. But I do.

"Wolf!"

I run faster, terror ripping at my heart. What if I'm not there in time?

"Help! Hurry! Help me!" I scream the tremulous cry. Save him, save him! They come running, all the people in my village. Their feet pound on the cobblestones. They're armed with pitchforks and knives, their eyes brave and strong. Their aim will be true. But not as true as mine. The people fall behind me as my feet seem to fly on wings of fear.

I top the crest of the hill and look out across the fields of green, hoping, praying not to see what I fear most: that I'm too late and my friend is gone.

Instead I see his laughing mouth, twisted in a boyish grin.

"Oh if you could see your face!" He says to me with good natured mirth, the sheen of his eyes reflecting the grass. He sees my face, but doesn't catch the meaning. He knows I was afraid. He doesn't know why. "Don't look so frightened! It was just a joke. The sheep are all fine." His smile falls a bit as his eyes dart in and out of the crowd. Fearing their anger against him, I force a reluctant grin. After all, it was just a joke. Seeing me laugh, their tight grim mouths loosen and soon we are all laughing.

But I can't stop the pounding in my heart.

May 19th 2013

 

Bet your window's rolled down and your hair's pulled back
And I bet you got no idea you're going way too fast
You're trying not to think about what went wrong
 You're trying not to stop 'til you get where you're goin'
You're trying to stay awake so I bet you turned on the radio
And the song'll go

I can't live without you, I can't live without you, baby

 

 

 

What's wrong with you? You should be happier than you've ever been in your life! That nagging motherish voice in my head shouts at me. It's the ever present voice of reasonable realism that never shuts up.

 

Then why am I not? I reply. So hopelessly confused as the lights flash by, headlights glaring at me like prying eyes in the darkness. The left blinker clicks and I swing into the turn lane.

 

You know why. A third voice chimes in, deep and low. It's the whisper of a truth I'm ashamed to acknowledge.

 

 

Yeah, I bet you're bending God's ear talking 'bout me.
You're trying not to let the first tear fall out

You're trying not to get lost in the sound but that song is always on
So you sing along

I can't live without you, I can't live without you, baby

 

 

I give up and break down, tears a salty river blurring through my eyes. I sing along, feeling the ache burn through my heart. Unexpectedly, I'm angry.

 

 

The highway won't dry your tears
The highway don't need you here
The highway don't care if you're coming home
But I do, I do

 

 

Then prove it.  If you really care about me at all then prove it to me. Fess up. Explain. Fix this. Only you can. Not me. I've waited. But I'm not going to wait forever. So go on. Show me you've got the courage to tell me the truth. Because if you don't, then I'm gone.

 

Revised post for todeee

Well. Happy Birthday to an amazing sister of mine :) I am so tired and my computer is broken and its DINNER TIME.

So my readers, fare thee well until we doth meet again.

FOOD.

Random song

I can feel the rain on my face
Every time I hear that song
And I can see the look in your eyes
When the music plays my favorite tune

I see the lights and
I see the night
The night we danced until the light
Came
And I see you I see you

I see the raindrops falling down
And I see the tears you tried to hide
But I see you I see you

And the song plays on


Been too many years since that night
Thought I'd forgot how it felt
But that song comes across the radio and that's when I know
That's when I know

Memory can hide the truth
Time goes by and we tend to lose
Sight of everything, everything we knew
But in my dreams I still see you I still see you

I see the lights and
I see the night
The night we danced until the light
Came
And I see you I see you

I see the raindrops falling down
And I see the tears you tried to hide
But I see you I see you

And the song plays on

I hear that tune and think of everything we had
Everything we lost
But I miss a time when I had something to lose
And for that
I'd like to thank you thank you

I see the lights and
I see the night
The night we danced until the light
Came
And I see you I see you
 
I see the raindrops falling down
And I see the tears you tried to hide
But I see you I see you
 
And the song plays on