FIVE

It was  Monday,  recess, and  Timothy  was walking out of the cafeteria. His gold-brown hair  was messy  again, but  he still  didn’t have  the guts  to face  himself  in  t h e mirror.  The  project  was to  be submitted  next week,  but it  was  good  they had already finished it. He saw Stephanie under the tree again. He didn’t know if he should  go to her. She might have wanted  privacy,  so went  walked  over to  his usual  bench. For  the first time,  he realized his loneliness. Once you get to know someone, it changes you. It makes you long for their company. But he sat there, alone, for a while.

 

Stephanie  was under  her tree  again.  It seemed  Timothy  was  still  reluctant  i n talking  to her. It didn’t bother her. No attachments. They had planned to meet later at her house,  while  her  father  was  out  playing  billiards.  Today  was the  day  he  would  d o something about the car. She started eating, taking  her  lunch  out  of her bag.  When  she looked up, she  saw that  Timothy was walking towards her. They both smiled, not saying anything. He sat down  beside her  and they  both ate  their lunches. Nothing needed to be said; both were quiet, enjoying each others company.

 

Timothy’s  mind  seemed to  drift off  when classes started.  His thoughts couldn’t seem to avoid  the fact  that it was  his birthday tomorrow. It was his first year without his brother, who always seemed to  make that  day more  special.  Once  again,  the  attention would  again be  focused  on him.  He didn’t  want to  be cooped  up at  home, but he also didn’t want to be out alone. So  his only  option  was to  celebrate  it with  Stephanie.  His parents wouldn’t remember, because they were always busy with something to take  their minds off Tim and his  lost other half.  Tim would wake up  feeling imbalanced. Anthony was the more spontaneous one, the one that always wanted some action. Timothy was the exact opposite, but even if their personalities were like the north and south, their relation-ship was as close as could be. Their personalities balanced one and the other, which made their full being into a whole.  But  now  that  Anthony  was gone,  everything  was o u t of place.

He tore out a page from his notebook and started scribbling on it.

 

Do you want to go somewhere with me tomorrow?

 

He folded  it thrice  and handed  it  over to Steph. She opened it,  r e a d it,  looked strangely at him, read it again, and then finally wrote back.

 

Why?

It’s my birthday. And I don’t exactly want to stay at home.

Really? Where to?

Anywhere; just not too close to home.

I know just a place.

Where?

You’ll see.

 

When the  last bell rang,  Tim  and Steph ran to her house. As expected, her father was out playing billiards. They both went straight  to the  garage,  and  Steph  watched  as Tim started to tinker with the car. He lifted the hood up, and got one of the wires.

“I’m gonna need some scissors.” He said.

She ran inside and got it and then ran back to give it to him.

“What are you doing?” she asked.

“I’m  going to  cut the  wire  that is  connects  the  battery and the starter. Once he turns the key in the ignition, the car won’t  start. In  this small  a town, it will  take quite a while to find the right wire. My guess is�"�"”

“Ah.” She  said,  raising  her  hand,  cutting  him  off. “I  lost  you  i n  the  second sentence.”

“Sorry.”

“I don’t understand motor speak.”

He  reappeared  from under  the hood,  closed  it, and  gave  her  the  scissors.  His hands were streaked with black from the grease.

“You  have to  wash  that  off.”  She said,  taking  his  hand and leading him to the kitchen.

He washed it off with soap, and used the paper  towels to  wipe himself. He didn’t want to use the  kitchen towels,  because it  would leave  black smears, and it might leave traces of who had tinkered with the car.

“Thanks for helping me. I’m not really a genius about cars.”

“You did what you had to do.”

“But why am I still worrying?” She said, and bit her lip.

“It’ll work.” He  said  taking a  step  closer  to  her  and  putting  his  hand  on  her shoulder. “Everything’s okay.”

Just that moment,  her father  entered  the door. They both jumped and took a step away from each other. They chuckled nervously and her father entered the kitchen.

“Oh.” Her dad said, smiling. “Hey, Tim.”

“Hi, Mr. Cross.” He replied.

“Dad.”  Steph smiled,  walking over to him and kissing him on the cheek. “You’re home early.”

“Yeah.  I lost  the first  round,  so I  decided  to go  home.”  He patted his belly. “I think I’m gonna go up and take a hot bath.”

“You do that.” She said. “I’m gonna prepare our dinner.”

Her father  trudged up the  stairs, and she  started  walking around the  kitchen. He stood beside the sink watching her.

“What are you doing?” she said. “Aren’t you gonna help me?”

“Oh,” he chuckled. “Sorry.”

They both moved to the sink and washed their hands. She planned to make a salad and some meat, so they decided that Tim was going to cook the chicken, and Steph would prepare the salad.  In the middle of their activity, her father came down and checked what they were doing, then went to the living room to watch the game.

Tim was by the stove, deep  frying the chicken. Steph was beside him, making the Thousand Island dressing. She looked over to what Tim was doing.

“That looks nice.”  She said,  then noticed  what was  on his  face.  “You got some oyster sauce on your cheek.”

“Really?” he said, using his shoulder to wipe it off.

“It’s still there.” She said. “I’ll do it.”

She  used her  index finger  to wipe  it off,  but it  left a  streak of Thousand Island dressing. “Oops.” She chuckled. “Now there’s some dressing on it.”

He rolled his eyes. “I’ll do it.”

He took the kitchen towel and wiped it off. Then he took a  dollop of dressing and smeared it on her cheek.

“Payback.” He said teasingly.

“Hey!” she laughed. “That’s too much.”

“I hope  you’re not  making a mess  there, kids.”  Her father called from the living room.

They looked at each other with amusement.

“Here.” Tim said, wiping off the dressing on her cheek.

She smiled. “Thanks.”

A few minutes later, they had finished preparing the food, and  Steph prepared the table, while Timothy was putting his jacket on. Her father walked in and sat down.

“Are you sure you can’t join us?” Steph said.

“I’m sure.” He said.

“Well,” she said. “I guess I’ll see you tomorrow then.”

He nodded. “Bye. Bye, Mr. Cross.”

“Bye kid.”

Timothy  left, and  Steph sat  down and  joined  her father. It had been a long time since they had eaten together, and Stephanie found it pleasant to be  in the presence of her father’s humor. She regretted not being with him sooner, but she didn’t think of regrets for now, but enjoyed her time.

           . . .

 

Timothy  stepped inside  his house  the exact  moment his mother had called out it was dinner. He ate dinner quietly. It was weird how his  brother  always made  everything lively. Now that he was gone,  everything lost  its meaning. Supper, which always used to be filled with  conversation,  was now silent.  It had been months since his brother’s pass-ing,  and  still  his  parents, and  mostly him,  had not  yet gotten  over the fact that he was gone. It was like they were all waiting. Waiting for him to walk through the doors and tell them all about his day. But the doors were still closed, dinner was through and done with, and Timothy  ran up to his room, secluding himself from everyone and everything for the rest of the night.

 

When he woke  up the next day, it  had instantly registered in his mind what day it was.  He looked  for the  other bed  which he  expected  to be  across from  his, and found himself in a different place. It took a few seconds for it to sink in his mind that everything was not  as it used to be.  He wanted  to stay in  his room,  to isolate himself. But he knew that eventually, he would have to face the truth of  what had  happened.  He ran his hands through  his  hair,  to make  it seem  like  it was not  bedraggled.  His heart started  racing again,  so  he  took  another  one  of  his  medications.  Every part  of him  ached,  and the moment  he  stood  up, he  expected to  fall  and  break  down, just like  Steph. His  body throbbed, and he couldn’t even bear to look down at his hands. Hands that looked exactly like his brother. His image a constant reminder of what had happened. He shouldn’t  have left his brother alone; he  should have  prevented  it from  happening. Guilt  was  creeping back  up  his  spine.  He heard  a  loud  and agonizing  scream. It  was  heartbreaking  and excruciatingly  painful to  hear. His  muscles  tightened  and tensed,  his hands  flew up to his head to block out all the screams, and then he realized it was him who was screaming.

 

Stephanie waited  by the foot of the school stairs  and scanned the school  grounds for Timothy.  Her cap covered her eyes, but she could see from under it. Her hair covered her face,  and students passed her. She saw him nearing her, hair mussed up and one hand clutching  the strap  of his  backpack.  She neared  him and  smoothed  out his messy hair, running her fingers through it and arranging the strands till he looked decent.

“Your hair is so messy.” She said gently.

He shrugged. “I could say the same for you.” He said, taking off her cap, handing it to her, and pushing her long hair behind her shoulders.

“Come on.” She said, still fixing his hair. “Smile.”

He grunted and pushed her hand away.

She knew  why he was  acting cold  and why he was so quiet. She tried to think of anything  to  say  to him.  But just  then the  bell rang,  and he  walked  ahead of  her. She caught up,  and they both  walked to  their classroom side by side. The class became quiet as they both entered together. Surely, they didn’t expect the good-looking indifferent new boy to be with the quiet invisible girl. He looked  at her and rolled his eyes,  then took her arm and  pulled  her towards  their chairs.  Confused  and jealous  glances were thrown at her, but  Tim didn’t  seem to notice  the  effect  he  had on  the  class,  mostly  the  female population.  They both sat down on their seats, and the chatter of the class resumed, but mostly it was about Steph and the new boy.

 

Timothy’s distress  of sitting  in his  classes was increasing.  And  even though  he was the  kind of  person who  had patience  and  strong endurance, it was all wearing thin. And the only time his anger had subsided,  was when  he was  seated beside  Steph.  They both seemed t o be content  side by side, even though they were not conversing with each other.  It  was  unusual,  with  them  knowing only  little about  each other,  for  they  both seemed to think alike about most things. They rarely  talked  using  paper, also  with their mouths.  But when  they wanted  to say  something,  all they  had to  do was  look at each other, and they could read whatever the other was thinking about.  Tim stared  at his desk. It seemed  like only Steph  knew what was  going on in his mind. On the outside, he acted the same as every other day, but whatever was in his thoughts,  made his heart  heavy. He remembered, this morning, when walking to school, he had passed one of the local stores, and he  looked at  the black  glass, and  saw the  face of  his brother  staring back.  Ghosts almost  always came  back to  haunt  him. Sometimes, his brother would come back in his dreams,  and  Tim would  wake up  in a  cold sweat,  his heart  beating  fast  and  remorse planted deep in his heart. How he wished he could turn back the hands of time.

Strangely,  his  sorrow  would  vanish  whenever  he  was  with Steph.  Maybe the thought of their situations comforted him,  knowing that  he wasn’t  alone in  suffering.  It was selfish, but he was comforted.

 

The  school bell  rang, and  Steph dragged Tim out of the classroom and down the road.  She was  taking him to  one of the oldest  houses in the  town. It was  run down and abandoned,  and though it  had a haunted  aura, besides her room, it made her feel secure. He  was  the  first, only, and  last  person  she had  brought to  the manor.  It was a  manor because it was big and grand. Though grayed through time, it was still standing tall.

They walked  a few blocks,  then she turned right then left and walked a few more blocks. She led him past a rusty gate and through thick bushes, and soon, the manor came into view.  There  were  thick vines  of ivy  creeping up the  walls. She  saw the  way Tim stared  in awe  at the  manor.  It was late,  and the sun  was setting,  making a dark orange watercolor background.

She found it  four years  ago, when  she was  fourteen. It was  of those  afternoons when  she felt down,  so she decided  to get out  of the  house and  find another  place she could feel like she was home. She went  to the roads she never  walked on. Then  she saw the rusty gate and the wind blew, like it was beckoning her to go. The gate wasn’t locked, so she went with her curiosity and saw the old manor.

 

Tim saw  the old  house that  Steph was  bringing him  to. She led him inside. The door was unhinged, but surprisingly, the inside was clean. He saw a blanket spread out in one corner with a picnic basket on it. There was a broom and mop and  bucket a few feet away.

“I keep this place spick  and span.” Steph  said. “No  one knows I go  in here. And no one cares about this  place, so I guess I kind of own it. But someday I will. I’ll buy this place and fix it up.”

“Maybe I’ll help you.” Tim said.

She sat down on the blanket, and Tim followed suit. She took out some stuff from the basket  and laid it  on the blanket:   Twinkies,  sandwiches,  some boxes  of chocolate, bags of junk food and bottles juice and cans of soda.

“What’s this?” he asked.

“My birthday gift to you.” She smiled.

He rolled his eyes. “You shouldn’t have.”

“I could have, and I did.”

She handed him some of the stuff and they both ate.

“I don’t know what there is about this place that makes me feel relaxed.” she said, taking a bite of the Twinkie in her hand.

Tim  looked around.  The room  was big,  and there  were a rickety  stairs  leading upstairs. The walls used to be  white, but  were dirtied  by the dust  and with  age. But  he kind of got the idea  why she brought him here. They were here,  because she had found a place where  she could have  a world of her  own without anyone  barging in  and  ruining what  peace she had  here, and she brought him here so that he could share it with her, but to also find a place all his own, a place where he could think about things.

After they stuffed  their faces with  Twinkies, they  lay down  on their backs, their arms and legs spread out. Both were staring at the ceiling, which was painted with angels.

“I wonder what it’s like up there.” She whispered.

He shrugged. “I don’t know.”

“I  wonder  what  I  would  feel like  when  it’s  my  time. I  mean, I can  feel what everybody else feels, but I don’t know what mine will be like.”

“You really weren’t lying about that?” he asked, and shifted to face her and rest his head on his hand.

“No. I’m really not joking.” She said.

“What exactly do you feel?”

“I  don’t  know.” She  sighed, biting  her  lip,  thinking. “Different  kinds  of  pain. Depends on how they’ll die.”

“When did you discover you…” his voice trailed off.

He  saw the  way her  eyes grew  sad again.  “I was about six, I think. I saw one of my neighbors, and a pain clutched at my heart, and I blacked out. I was too little then, the pain was too much. But, in time, I learned to ignore it, till it became a muffled aching. I figured it out soon enough.”

They both grew quiet, and Tim had a mental debate.

Reviews

[clairvoyantmars]

tim debates whether to tell steph about his dark past....