Chapter II

 Chapter II

    The boy slept nude that night. The following morning when he awoke his clothes which he had set to dry were still damp, but not overly so. The morning light revealed the wooden floor of the house, as well as the cigarette butts and shattered remains of beer bottles. The boy was obviously not the first person to take up residence here. Pondering what he should do, he ate the remaining half of his sandwich. Once he finished the last bite, he decided he would go for a walk around his new neighborhood.

                Leaving his jacket and bag, the boy placed his hat over his charcoal-black hair and exited. He closed the front door, and using the same pieces of bent metal the boy locked it. Turning around, the boy gazed up at the great pine tree looming overhead. The boy averted his gaze and refocused instead on the contrast of the grass, which on most lawns was a vibrant green, but the lawn the boy stood in a muted grey-green from lack of water. The lawn almost seemed as if it was covered in ash. The boy walked to the curb and turned left, walking down the street. Red Lane, the boy saw was the streets name. From Red Lane, the boy turned left again and walked down Shadow Spring Boulevard, which dead-ended onto Willard Way. The boy looked right, and then left… When no guiding wind propelled him to go one way of the other, he chose the right path. The boy walked down the sidewalk, taking in the day as the sun shown down, not really paying attention to where he was going… He listened to the sounds of sprinklers running, children laughing as they enjoyed the last few days of their summer vacation, and the cheerful tune of a man whistling as he walked his dog. The boy was so caught up in sounds of the goings-on in the neighborhood that when the words “On your left!” were shouted at him, he didn’t register that he had heard them until he had been knocked to the ground, dazed, staring at the wheel of a bicycle as it rotated on its side. Something warm was covering the side of his head that had hit the ground. The boy was confused… why was one side of his head warm? Why were there stars in the daytime? He tried to roll over and pick himself up, but felt as if his own body weighed a ton-- he couldn’t move.

                The last thing the boy’s mind registered before he slipped into unconsciousness was the face of an angel peering over him, a look of worry and concern stretched across her face. The boy felt the need to laugh because he had never seen an angel look so silly. However, as soon as he opened his mouth to begin laughing, the world went dark and the voice of the angel said

“Oh, s**t…”

 

                Mitchell Carter coughed, the smoke and heat from the flames making it hard to breathe. As Mitchell Carter opened his eyes and looked right into a bright flame, a large crack was heard from above. Quickly, Mitchell Carter rolled out of the way as a large piece of timber fell to the place where he had just been. Mitchell Carter stood up, aside from cracking of burnt timber and the roar of the fire, the burning house is silent. Mitchell Carter opens his mouth to cry out for the girl who was screaming just moments before, but no sound comes out… another crack, Mitchell Carter tries to jump out of the way… His leg is caught under a burning crossbeam, the heat searing his flesh… This time, he is the one screaming… 

                The boy jolted upright… He was in a softly lit room. In the corner, a grandfather clock ticked loudly as the pendulum swung back and forth. For the moment, the boy was alone and he didn’t know where he was. He decided to leave. Standing up as quietly as possible, he had to reach out and grab the arm of the couch and sit back down to prevent himself from falling, his head began to swim and the boy had to sit back on the couch before he lost consciousness. He sat down and grimaced as the movement caused his head to throb painfully. He brought his hand to his head and felt a gauze wrap that had been put in place while he had been unconscious. The boy looked around. to his left was a window that had the curtain pulled over it to dim the incoming light, in front of him was a television neatly fitted into a bookshelf to the boys right was the entrance into a kitchen, and the couch the boy was sitting on was situated in the center of the room. The boy tried to stand again. Successfully this time, he stood up turned around and looked behind him for evidence as to whose couch he had just been laying on. The boy walked around the couch. His boots were missing and the callused feet of the boy made a scraping sound as he walked along the off-white carpet. 

On the wall behind the couch there was an assortment of photos; one in particular drew the boy’s attention. In an oval frame, there were four people. One of the two in the back was an older man wearing Dress blues. His hair was deep brown, and though his face was smiling, his eyes seemed sad. Beside the man stood a woman who couldn’t be any more than a year or two younger than the man. Wearing a deep red dress with white lace along the collar. In front of the man stood a young man of fifteen or so who was obviously his son; their faces matched in every aspect but the eyes. The man’s son had blue eyes like his mother and he wore glasses. The eyes behind the glasses were different from those of his father; for the eyes of the son still smiled with the rest of the face. To the left of the son was a beautiful young girl, who seemed to be ten or eleven, She wore a yellow sundress and smiled so widely it seemed that she would burst with happiness. Looking around the boy saw that photo seemed to be most recent of the entire family while at the same time being several years out of date.  There were pictures of the mother and children all slightly older but the man in the Dress blues was not in any of them. Looking back to the smiling girl, the boy himself felt the twinges of a smile pick at the corners of his mouth, but before they could do more, the boy turned away from the photo.

 Stepping to his left, the boy walked into the kitchen. On the counter in the kitchen, there was a bowl of yellow apples. The boy looked around the kitchen was empty. Cautiously, he walked forward and turned around to make sure no one was looking. When he was sure he was still alone, the boy grabbed an apple and stuffed it into the side pocket of his cargo pants. The boy [repletion of “the boy”] turned around again to make sure no one had seen him before taking another apple, then another, and another. With two apples in each side pocket, the boy grabbed another and jammed it into his mouth. The crisp crunch of the apple was as cacophonous as an avalanche in the quiet house, but the boy didn’t care. He continued to cram as much of the apple into his mouth as he could. In a matter of seconds, the apple was gone, core and all. The boy began to eat another, and when that one was gone he ate another, and another… he had forgotten the taste of fresh apples… the boy was busy munching away at his fifth apple when a voice behind him said,

“Slow down or you’ll make yourself sick.”

The boy dropped the apple and turned around so fast he lost his balance.  Arms jutting out to catch himself, the boy knocked over the bowl and the remaining apples. Now on the floor, the boy looked up to see the girl from the picture. She was about his age, wearing an oversized blue tee-shirt and equally oversized sweat pants that had the elastic cut off at the ankles. The girl’s hair was wet and she was absentmindedly drying it with a light yellow towel.

Leaning in, the girl said “Sorry about that. I don’t mean to, but I end up sneaking up on people a lot more than I want to… wouldn’t be the first time I snuck up on you, either.”

Seeing the boy’s confused look, she pointed to his temple with her free hand “Your head… I ran into you while on my bike today… that’s also why I wasn’t around when you woke up, I was all sweaty and gross so I hopped in the shower. I didn’t think you’d be awake this soon.”

The boy just stared, still confused but too dumbstruck by this girl’s sudden appearance to say anything.

Holding out her hand to help him up, she said, “My name’s Katy… Katy Asher”

Cautiously taking her hand as she helped him to his feet, the boy looked around nervously for a moment before saying, “Your apples…” and ducked down to the floor again to begin retrieving the three apples that had rolled away.

Standing up with an awkward jumble of apples in his hands, the boy thrust the fruit into the arms of Katy who smiled and put them back into the bowl. Stooping down she picked up the remaining half of apple the boy had dropped and walked over to the kitchen sink and rinsed it off.

Handing it back to the boy she said, “I believe this is yours.”

The boy took the apple and said quietly, “Um…Thank you…”

Without taking his eyes off the girl standing in front of him, the boy finished his apple, core and all.

“So Mister Apple, do you have a name?” she asked.

The boy was silent for a second before stammering “I… uh…I’m…”

Smiling Katy said. “What’s the matter? Cat got your tongue? Forget your own name? Yeesh, I must have hit you harder than I thought. I mean, there was a bit of blood, but it didn’t bleed too much, hold on.”

Dumbfounded, the boy shut his mouth and watched as Katy rounded the corner and opened a drawer that was filled with miscellaneous items, rummaging for a bit, she finally found what she was looking for.

Stepping around the counter, she said “open your eyes as wide as you can, I want to be sure, but based on the fact that you did suffer a head injury, and you did lose consciousness, I think you have a concussion.”

The boy opened his eyes, and Katy shone a small pin light for a few seconds into each eye before making a dissatisfied smirk and saying, “Yeah, you defiantly have a concussion, I’m sorry man, I should have paid better attention...” Katy trailed off looking down at the ground.

“Um… its ok, I’m fine…” the boy said quietly.

Katy looked back up at the boy with a soft smile on her face. “You might be, but my mom’s Mrs. Asher, you know her, the high school nurse, and I want her to look at you before you run off and end up passing out on the side of the road again. It’s a good thing I cashed into you where I did though. I don’t think I could have carried you any more than the three blocks… you’re heavy.”

“You… carried me?” the boy asked skeptically.

“Well[, yeah, I couldn’t just leave you there on the sidewalk with blood pouring out of your head.”

The boy reached up and tenderly touched the bandage that was wrapped around his head.

“You brought me here, and then bandaged my head?”

“Well, yeah… otherwise you would have smeared blood all over my couch. Anyway, as soon as I set you down, you started to move around a lot.”

“Thank you… I’ll… I’ll leave now.” The boy said, turning to go.

 His was hand was almost on the door before Katy said, “Oh no you don’t. Hey, hang on a second.”

She reached out and grabbed the boy’s hand as he walked to the door. He turned to look at her. Something about this girl made him want to stay, but he knew he could not. Jerking his arm out of her grasp, he flung open the door and ran out into the bright noonday sun.

The boy ran without looking back; he ran until his throbbing head made him stop. Touching the sensitive area under the bandage, the boy was surprised to feel something wet as well. Bringing his hand down he saw blood. His blood. The boy felt faint. Crouching down to steady himself, he stared at his bare feet as he waited for the waves of nausea to pass. He had forgotten his boots at Katy’s house. Wiping his blood stained hand on the grass he slowly stood up and looked around. He was in the middle of a deserted street. Walking down to an intersection, the boy looked up at the street sign and saw that he was on West Horse Tavern Drive. Looking left and seeing a “No Outlet” sign, he went right, turning left the first chance he could. Now walking along Old English Road, the boy passed a large school proudly displaying the name “Cypress Grove High School” in bold red letters, then a smaller text beneath it said,  “Go Eagles! Fight Eagles! Win Eagles! Win! Win! Win!”  Beneath the smaller text was an illuminated billboard with the phrase “Three Days until School Starts! Welcome Incoming Freshmen and New Students! Registration for New Students is 12:00 to 5:00”. After reading the sign, the boy looked off in the vague direction he had come from, the direction of the school where Mitchell Carter’s friends would be juniors, where Mitchell Carter’s friends would still hang out in the alley between the gym and band buildings, where Mitchell Carter’s friends would move on and forget him…

The boy sat down on the grassy patch and looked at the sign until the sky turned as red as the blood that slowly seeped through the bandage on the boy’s head.  The boy stood up, turning back down the way he had walked in he saw Katy on her bike pedaling towards him. The boy wanted to jump behind the sign and hide. The fewer people who saw him the easier it would be when he had to leave, but as soon as he thought about hiding, he knew it was too late. Katy had seen him and she was sprinting towards him as fast as her legs could pedal. The boy resolved to just continue walking until he found a street name he recognized.

 

“Hey!” Katy shouted. “Hey, stop!”

The boy continued walking even as the strident sound of fast-moving rubber coming to a sudden stop and skidding across hot cement reached his ears.

“Hey, you can’t just run off like that when you have a concussion! You might be hurt worse than you realize.”--The boy increased his pace-- “Hey! Slow down! You need to relax, or you could go unconscious. Are you even listening to me?”

Katy ran around and stood in front of the boy. when he tried to move past her to the right she moved right, when he tried to go left she moved left. After trying to get past her for a few seconds, he finally gave up, turned right, and marched onto the grass lawn of the high school, dry grass poking the bottoms of his feet.

Indignantly, Katy shouted “Hey! Stop, damn it!” and ran up in front of the boy again “You need to sit down and take it easy!” Pointing to the dark red spot in the boys bandage “she said, “Look, you’ve already strained yourself enough to start bleeding again, so before you kill yourself you need to sit the hell down now!”

“I will when I get back,” the boy said, moving past Katy and continuing to walk.

“Back where?”

“Back h-“ The boy stopped in mid-sentence… he had no home… “Back to where I’m going now…”

“Oh, really?” Katy said exasperatedly “And where, prays tell, is that?”

“Back on Red Lane.”

“If that’s where you live, then you should know how to get there… you should know you’re walking in the wrong direction.”

The boy stopped and turned around. Katy was standing there with her hands on her hips, smiling smugly. “That settles it; you’re coming home with me. You can use my phone to call your parents once we get back.” Looking around, she then amended, “And it looks like you’re going to be spending the night. It’s pretty late.” Katy grabbed the boys arm and began to walk him back towards her house. Stopping for a moment to pick up her she said “Hey, you know what… I don’t even know your name. You know my name is Katy but… I don’t know your name. What is it?” The boy, who had resigned himself to go along with Katy until later that evening when he could escape back to the abandoned house, hesitated for a moment before saying,

“I am… David”

“David huh?” Katy said, looking at him with new interest. “You have a last name to go with that, David?”

“Black” David said, “I am David Black”

“Black,” Katy said, thoughtfully “Are you new to town?”

“Um… Yeah,” David said a little unsure of himself.

“Well then, welcome! Where’d you move here from?”

 “Uh, a little town in Colorado, I doubt you’ve ever heard of it,” David said.

“Wow, Colorado, that’s pretty far away.”

“What do you mean?” David asked.

“Well, this is North Carolina. Colorado to here is one long drive”

David blanched for a moment. In six months of intermittent walking, he had traveled over nearly half of the United States.

Katy grabbed David’s hand. Hers were so soft and gentle, his were hard and rough, but something about it felt right to David… and it scared him.

Katy walked David back to her house. Approaching the house for the first time, David saw that it was three stories tall, with red brick being the main construction material. White wood accented the red brick with a few tresses that were covered in a deep green ivy. The ivy was well maintained and devoid of any dead segments. A large red mulberry tree stood in the front lawn some branches reaching towards the windows as if in order to peer inside. Once there, David and Katy walked into the kitchen, where the woman from the picture the boy had seen earlier was cooking

Turning to see who had come in, a look of relief passed over the woman’s face. In a joyful yet calm voice that reminded David of summer rain, the woman exclaimed,

“Oh! Katy! Thank God you found him, from what you told me on the phone you banged this poor boy up pretty good.” Stepping forward to the bewildered David she began to inspect his bandages as she spoke to her daughter. “My-my-my…” she clucked “boy she really did pull a number on you didn’t she?”

“Mom!” Katy said indignantly. “You’re embarrassing me, I didn’t mean to run into him, and I already told him I was sorry.”

“And sorry you should be, young lady, lucky for you, you landed in Mr. Johnson yard and not the street like this poor boy…” Looking down at David, she then said, “what is your name, son?”

“I am David, ma’am,” David said.

“David. A strong name for a strong boy, no doubt”

Before David could respond, the door opened and an older teenager walked in. He was tall and slim. The bright purple mohawk that adorned his head added an additional six inches onto his height He wore blue jeans with slashes deliberately cut into them, his shirt displayed the symbol for anarchy, and over that he wore a military-style flight jacket. Aside from multiple piercings in each ear, the teenager had three facial piercings, one on his upper lip, one on the left side of his nose, and a third in his left eyebrow. David, Katy, and her mother all stared at the teenager who had just walked into the house before Katy shouted,

“Jim! Where have you been?”

Jim stood there and looked at Katy, then his mother, then David.  The stare of the teenager in the doorway was cold and mean as well as hopeless and lost. The boy had seen this gaze before, in his own eyes…  

Without another word, Jim walked up stairs and out of sight. Katy’s mother watched him go with a contorted look on her face that made her look as if she were going to scream or cry, or perhaps some combination of both.  Instead, she shut her eyes and seemed to force her face back into a resemblance of a calm one.  When she spoke, again she addressed David.

“I’m sorry about him dear, [new sentence] since Henry, my husband, his father, died, he just hasn’t been himself. It has been over a year and a half and Jim is still grieving. He’s angry, at me, at the world, and I’m afraid, at is his father.”

“I’m sorry for your loss,” David said sincerely, and then pointing to his head, he said, “This really isn’t anything you need to be worried about, I’m fine.”

“A concussion is a concussion, young man. I’m fixing dinner and you can eat with us, then either you call your mother and father and tell them to pick you up of I can drop you off, there is no way I am going to let you walk home by yourself, when it is dark outside.”

The temptation of a free meal was so alluring to David he all but ignored the second half of her statement.

“Alright, I call my-” the word caught in his throat. “them,” he said, “I’ll call them.”

Katy’s mother smiled. “The phone is in the foyer” With that she turned away leaving Katy and David alone.

“I’ll… um… go call…” David mumbled, and walked off in the direction of the foyer.

“Hey, you want to watch a movie?” Katy said suddenly,

Stopping and turning around, David said with both apprehension and uncertainty, “Um, yes, sure.”

“Okay great! What movie?” she asked.

Still a little unsure of what to say David said, “Whatever you have, I don’t really much care.” Then David walked out of the living room, [new sentence] retracing his steps he found his way into the foyer and looked at the phone. He stood there for a few minutes then walked out of the foyer into the living room. Katy was sitting on the couch having just set down the remote. 

“You call your mom?” she asked[.]

“Yeah,” David said softly, “What movie did you pick?” he asked.

“Jurassic Park, it’s one of my favorites.” Katy said fondly.

“I thought the book was better, in the book only Sarah, Grant and the kids make it off the island. I think that’s more realistic…”

“It’s more depressing is what it is,” Katy said.

“If you say so,” David said noncommittally.

Katy looked at him as he stood awkwardly in the entrance of the living room.

“Well, are you going to stand there or are you going to sit down?”

David scanned the room and saw an unoccupied armchair in the corner, sitting down the soft leather enveloped him as he sank into the chair.

On the other side of the room, Katy gave an audible sigh.

“What?” David said from the leather confines of the armchair.

Now staring at him with a bemused look on her face, Katy only shook her head, and, in one over exaggerated motion, swung her legs up on the couch and brought her hands behind her head. Now taking up the entire length of the couch her smirk took on a touch of exasperation as well as bemusement.

Having not been able to take the hint and confused by her sudden change in attitude, David sat in an armchair with a look of pure bewilderment on his face.

Katy gave up and began to focus on the movie. The introduction was over and now the lawyer was being told to seek out Alan Grant. The movie continued for a while, and things hand just started to go wrong on the island when Katy’s mother called them into the dining room.

David followed Katy, who stopped the movie and walked into the small, enclosed room that branched off from the kitchen

The dining room had richly-colored red walls. A potted plant made use of the far corner, vibrant green contrasting the red. Two large windows with a multitude of shades of tan and brown were opened to the dark sky and back yard. The dining table was a deep black and would have seated six people. In the center of the table was a large roasted chicken. Around the chicken, there were many other dishes; a bowl of mashed potatoes, a platter of bread rolls, a dish of mixed vegetables, and a pan with a golden brown casserole. Taking one of the open seats, David looked up to see a wooden carving of the last supper above the doorway. Katy took the seat next to David and Katy’s mother took the seat to her daughter’s right around the corner. The two of them bowed their heads and began to say grace. David sat patiently and waited until the two women were finished with their prayer. As soon as they opened their eyes, he moved to serve himself, but Katy’s mother beat him to it, saying that as long as he was a guest in her house, he would be served his meal by a member of the household. A glorious plate of food was soon set before him and it did not take him long to eat the entire thing and then ask for seconds, then with seconds to tentatively ask for thirds. The entire time Katy’s mother continued to ask him questions about his past. David answered as many as he could, then he had to lie, and every lie he told made every bite of food taste more and more like ash.

After David had eaten his third serving, Katy’s mother said “I have a bruised cobbler in the oven if you want any.”

“A ‘bruised cobbler’?” David asked, confused.

“Blackberries and blueberries, black and blue, so it’s bruised” Katy explained,

David smiled, “I would love some bruised cobbler.”

Katy’s mother walked out of the dining room and back into the kitchen.

“So what school are you attending this year if you just moved here?” Katy asked

Thinking fast David said, “I’m not sure. I think the one we were at earlier since its close and all.”

“That’s cool,” Katy said. “Did you like your old school? I mean, do you, like, miss all your friends?”

“Every day.” he replied.

“I’m sorry; do you still talk to them?” Katy asked.

“Not really.”

“Have you made any friends here?”

“Well, no, except for you, I guess.”

At this, Katy beamed, the knowledge that this boy that she had met less than six hours ago considered her a friend, even after she gave him a concussion. The two sat in silence for a moment[,] then Katy’s mother entered back into the room with both the cobbler and a half gallon of vanilla ice cream awkwardly held in both her arms. David got up and attempted to help her, but as soon as he stood up Katy’s mother laughed and told him to sit back down.

“Honestly, dear,” she began, “you are by far the most helpful house guest I’ve had, but you are still a guest in this house, and I am a very good hostess.”

David was served a plate of cobbler with two scoops of ice cream, [new sentence] taking a bite he remembered all the lies he had told this evening. When he put the cobbler inside his mouth he wanted to cry, [new sentence] the cobbler was warm and soft, and sweet and tart, and David felt he did not deserve it. Eating a few more bites to avoid seeming rude, David stood up and excused himself to the restroom; Katy told him it was upstairs and the third door on the right down the hall.

Leaving the two women, David silently walked away. He ascended the stairs and walked down the hall. Unlike the hallway of the old house David had slept in, which was dark and hot in the late summer heat, this one was well-lit and pleasantly cool. Counting the doors on the right, he stopped at the third. Inside was a small bathroom; a step in shower occupied the corner opposite the sink to his right. The toilet was next to the sink, and an open window gave a view to the street through the branches of thee mulberry tree.

The familiar melody of the cicada’s song once again fell over his ears. Stepping out the window on to the roof of the house, he turned around and silently shut the window.

“There something wrong with the front door?” a voice behind David asked

Reeling around David saw Jim the teenager from before sitting further up towards the apex of the roof, his face illuminated by a cigarette.

“no, I just,” David looked down thinking for a moment “I just can’t lie to them anymore”

Jim said nothing, but looked at David with a bit of interest and took a long drag.

“Will you please not tell Katy you saw me? She is nice, and I don’t belong here…”

Stubbing his cigarette on the roof of the house Jim stood up and said “And my dad didn’t belong in Iraq, but he did what was right and stayed.” He stood up and walked down to the window opening it up and climbing inside he turned and said “wait here a second, and don’t worry I won’t tell katy I’ve seen you if you don’t tell her you saw me smoking.”

David nodded in agreement, and Jim disappeared for a few moments. When he returned he threw David’s boots out at him and began to close the window when David said

“your dad was a better man then me, and for that I’m sorry.”

Jim looked at David for a second, muttered something under his breath and shut the window. Davit pulled on both his boots.

 Walking down the roof towards the edge, edge, he was surrounded by slender mulberry branches, and though none were sturdy enough to support his weight, he let his hands slide over each one. When he got to the thicker, sturdier branches closer to the end of the roof, the boy grabbed a branch and swung off. Letting go for a split second, he was airborne, held aloft by nothing other than his own momentum. For the single, exhilarating second the face of David Black broke, and the face of Mitchell Carter shone through. As the next branch neared, David Black took control once again and grabbed it. Now that he was closer to the trunk of the tree, David swiftly made his way down, leaping the last few feet to land gracefully on the ground.

In the dark of the night, the night the boy who silently ran back to the old house could have been a ghost.