Potter County Boy

Based on this story: http://www.post-gazette.com/pg/08002/845913-54.stm.

The ground crackled deliciously underneath Blake Dunn’s feet. His slick boots sunk deep underneath the snow, breaking the surface like crème brulee. Blake had never had crème brulee before, had never heard of it in fact. He felt an inexplicable happiness though, walking through the snow, surrounded by silence and white. Light seemed to reflect off everything, engulfing his world with a pressurized soundlessness. In the distance he thought he heard the sound of a car, maybe a truck, but it was gone—and quickly. Blake had only experienced ten New Year’s Eves before and each was as fleeting as the past. That day felt like it’d be the first one of his life and he was determined to remember it. He quickened his pace, clutching the neighbor’s cake pan closer to his chest.

Was it always this white during the winter? Last winter didn’t seem this white. The air never seemed so crisp before. Blake swore he could smell everything and nothing at the same time. Was that possible?

            He stopped for a moment and just stared ahead, beside him, behind him. White and kind of echo-y. Blake shivered. Mom would understand if he was too afraid to go out all by himself. But he told her he could… That he was man now. He could do it. He stared at his feet, noticed how small they were, how they swam in his dad’s boots. He had taken them without asking, of course, but he was a man now. Blake trudged forward, counting his steps as he went. Twelve steps, thirteen steps, fourteen steps, nineteen steps… He thought he could make out the neighbor’s house just beyond the wall of trees surrounding this empty field.

            Blake felt like he was forgetting something. He had been feeling a lot like that lately. Forgetting things. The last year felt like a hundred years and the neighbor’s house had never seemed so far away. In fact, he could have sworn there had never been a field here.

            Blake stopped, turned around.

No, there had never been a field here. He didn’t think they knocked over a house or torn out a bunch of trees. There was definitely something though. Blake shook his head and giggled, a little frightened at his memory. Maybe he was getting Old Timer’s. Wide-eyed, he raised a pale hand to his hair just to make sure it was still there. The cake pan slipped out of his hand and fell softly to the flat plane of snow. He smiled, relieved that he had hair. Inspiration struck. He had never been to the beach before, but if snow could pack like sand, well, wouldn’t it be funny if he could make a snow castle? Suddenly, the neighbor’s house was wiped clean from his mind and ten-year old Blake Dunn crouched to build his snow castle.

The hairline crack developing in the ice covering the neighbor’s pond underneath the surface of Blake’s castle went unnoticed. Blake’s dad’s boots were big enough so that the water, black like tar and cold as blue raspberry Slurpees went unnoticed as it pooled around his soles. Blake sunk one inch. Blake sunk two inches. As he revelation struck, Blake scrambled to stand forgetting about his neighbor’s poor cake pan, about his father’s boots, about New Year’s Eve. The earth gaped at him, gulping him down like old bubblegum. There had to be a mistake. Blake couldn’t remember the last time he even swam.

The water erupted around him filling in his eyes, his nose, his ears, his mouth. He reached up to grab at the white light above him but his hand just bounded off the ice floating over him. Blake saw the cake pan skid across the top. He grabbed for it, but his fingers scratched across the bottom again. He was forgetting everything, things were slipping out of his mouth, bubbles floating up from his ears and bouncing off the ice lid.

Lights erupted in front of his eyes and seemed to fade in and out like the credits of a movie. He waved good-bye to the white light and let himself be carried away on the flight of the memory, which all too soon was gone.

 

Reviews

:O That's awful!
A really genuine example of stolen youth, it's very short but captures how unpredictably and sudden changes can be.
A good write I believe :)
xx

[jdwriter65]

This doesn't feel like nonfiction to me...