The following is the second part of a short story that I wrote as an assignment for my Honors class at school. It's a rough edit, and not the greatest of stories, but I very much enjoyed writing it, and I wanted a chance to share it with people. It's a lengthy read, and I'm posting it in three parts, all of which are probably twice as long as a regular blog post. But, if you're bored, or need a good distraction, I offer this to you:
When he brought his hand away, he
was no longer sitting on the floor of his living room. Instead, he found
himself, apparently, on the floor of his mother’s bedroom. He could just barely
make out the lump under the blankets that he took to be his mother sleeping.
“Weird,” he thought, “I didn’t think I’d been asleep for that long.” Suddenly,
however, he realized that there was a light emanating from his mother’s
nightstand, bathing the room in a dim, eerie, glowing green. Looking over, he
realized that it was his mother’s alarm, and, squinting in its direction, he
realized that the clock’s display indicated that it was 4:40 AM.
“How long was I asleep?” He
wondered out loud in a hushed tone.
“Not very long.” The familiar voice
cut its way into the quiet of the bedroom, and Evan looked down at his side,
seeing the two familiar glowing ovals, that seemed to be giving off a light of
their own. “But that’s not important, because, it’s actually before you woke up
this morning right now.”
“What do you mean?” Evan replied
with a whisper.
“I mean, we went back in time a
little.” replied Dziga. “And you can stop whispering, she won’t be able to hear
or see us.“
Now Evan knew he was dreaming. He
stood up, walked over to where his mother was sleeping, and reached out towards
his mother’s sleeping form. He extended his index finger and aimed to plant is
squarely on his mother’s forehead. However, as the finger reached the point
where it should have contacted with his mother’s skull, it instead continued on,
as though his mother wasn’t even really there. He yanked his hand back towards
his body in surprise, and then took a good hard look at his finger. There
didn’t seem to be anything abnormal about it. So he did the only thing he felt
he could do in the moment. He laughed.
“Alright, Z.” he said in between
nervous giggles. “You’ve turned me into a time-traveling ghost,
congratulations. But, I’ve got school in the morning, so I’d really appreciate
it if we could go back now.”
“’’Fraid not.” The imp replied,
jumping up onto the bed and standing on the other side of Evan’s still-sleeping
mother.
“And why not?” Evan asked, suddenly
even more nervous than he was before.
“Just sit back, try to relax, and
most of all, pay attention. Not everyone gets a chance like this, you know.”
Evan still couldn’t see the imp’s face, especially in the darkness of his
mother’s room, but somehow, the voiced sounded like it was coming from a mouth
that was smiling.
Evan had little time to consider
this, as he was suddenly startled by a loud beeping noise coming from his side.
He leapt backwards instinctively, just barley avoid the end of his mother’s
fast extending hand as she reached out and pressed down on the button on top of
her alarm clock, silencing it. She then drew the covers back, swung her feet
over the edge of her bed, and began to rub the sleep from her eyes.
Evan panicked. He had to hide, she
was sure to see him. Maybe he could dash out the door, or dive under the bed?
No, it was already too late, as his mother’s hands dropped to her sides, and
she opened her eyes, looking directly towards the place where Evan now stood,
frozen in panic and fear. However, no look of surprise or duress crossed her
face. Instead, she reached under the edge of her bed, and pulled out a pair of
slippers, which she placed on her feet. She then rose from her bed, and made
her way across the room, and through the door on the other side, which led into
her bathroom. Evan watched as she closed the door behind her, and then saw as
she flicked the light on, seeing the light flood out from under the door and
illuminate the bedroom.
Evan breathed a deep sigh of
relief, and moved over towards his mother’s bed, sitting down on the edge. He
shook his head from side to side, trying to clear it. This was all certainly a
little unexpected. He felt the bed move, as his imp guide moved to sit down
next to him, his little legs hanging over the edge of the bed, holding his
crooked stick out in front of him.
“So,” said Z, “what do you think?”
“I think when I wake up, I’m gonna
schedule a psychiatric exam.” Said Evan, quite shaken.
“No, not about that, silly. About
your mom.”
“What do you mean?” Evan asked,
rubbing his temples.
“She got up pretty early, huh? Why
do you think?” Z queried.
“I dunno, cause she’s old and
weird? She gets up early every morning.” Evan had never really seen a point in
it. He knew his mom made him and his sister breakfast every morning, but other
than that, she didn’t really seem to get much done in the morning.
“You don’t think you might be
missing out on anything?” Z asked.
“Not really.” Replied Evan. In
response, rather than continue the conversation, Z lifted his crooked staff in
the air, and slammed it down in front of him. Again, with a green flash, Evan
felt his gut wrenching, and suddenly found himself standing in his kitchen. The
clock on the stove indicated that it was now almost 5:30. Standing on the
counter next to him, Dziga’s glowing yellow eyes were now level with Evan’s
face.
Evan heard the sound of footsteps
on the stairs, and looked over just in time to see his mother come down the
last stair and round the corner in the kitchen. She was dressed in the same
outfit as he remembered her being that morning, a pair of blue jeans, and a red
turtle-neck sweater. She took her own look at the clock on the stove, let out a
deep sigh, and then reached out, and turned one of the stove-top dials,
lighting a burner, before walking over to the kitchen sink and filling a pot
with water.
“Let’s see how much she really gets
up too in the morning, shall we?” Dziaga said, and lifted his crooked staff
into their air. This time, rather than slamming it down, he instead spun it in
a clockwise direction. As the little blue creature spun his staff, Evan watched
his mother’s movement begin to speed up, becoming more and more frantic. She
seemed not to notice, her face the relaxed, determined face his mother usually
put on when doing chores. She darted back and forth from the stove-top to the
refrigerator, apparently preparing some hard-boiled eggs, as well as making
stops to fill and activate the coffee maker. She also cleaned out the dish
strainer of the clean dishes from the night before, and placed them in their
proper places within the cupboards. She disappeared out the door for a moment,
before returning with an armful of soda cans, which Evan recognized as the ones
he had left in the living room the night before, having spent most of the night
playing video games before going to bed.
More than an hour passed, by
measure of the impossibly fast-moving clock on the stove, and all the while,
Evan’s mother was active, cleaning, watering plants, and preparing breakfast
for he and his sister. As soon, as the clock reached 6:45, Z stopped spinning
his staff, and Evan watched as his mother’s movements slowed from their normal
pace to a more reasonable one. Then the imp turned his head towards Evan, and
spoke.
“So?” the imp asked.
“So what? Yeah, she’s busy, but
that’s what a Mom is supposed to do, right? I mean, I guess she does more than
I thought, but it’s not really that much.” Evan honestly was quite surprised at
how much his mother had gotten done, considering she had only been in the
kitchen for a little more than an hour. He tended to take for granted things
like how his mother’s various plants got watered, or how there was always
something in the refrigerator, ready for Evan to eat. He watched as his mother
took the hard-boiled eggs she had just prepared, and used them to prepare some
egg salad. She usually made sure there was plenty of variance in their food as
well, so that even if Evan ate a sandwich every day, at least he could have
some variety of ingredients.
Suddenly, a sound on the staircase
caught his ears, and he looked over to see his sister coming down and into the
kitchen, fully dressed, and ready for the day. Emma smiled at up her mother,
and dashed over to give her a hug. Her mother greeted her warmly, returned the
hug, then beckoned her over to the table, while she reached up and began
spooning some of the morning’s bacon and eggs onto a plate, along with some
hash, and 2 pieces of toast.
“Did Mom really make hash this
morning?” he thought to himself. “I don’t remember noticing that.”
“Something wrong?” Z asked,
watching Evan stare at the breakfast food.
“No, just… I noticed something I
hadn’t before.”
“Oh really? You might want to get
used to that feeling.” The imp then chuckled to himself. Evan wondered what the
little creature meant, but was suddenly caught as he watched his mother leave
her post behind the counter, and move out towards the living room. He strained
his head, and just barley caught a glimpse of her, as she opened the front door
and made her way outside. He moved around the counter, and went next to the
table, looking out past the curtains of the kitchen window. He watched as his
mother reached into the mailbox, and pulled out a stack of envelopes, then
closing it, and making her way back down the walk, looking at each in turn.
He would have watched her further,
but his sister got up from her seat and moved over to the counter, placing her
now empty breakfast plate down, and finishing her glass of milk, before making
her way over to the cupboard, and producing a loaf of bread. She placed it on
an empty spot on the table, then moved toward the fridge, which she opened,
grabbing some mayonnaise, turkey, and cheese. She brought these to the table as
well, and, for a third time, moved away, making her way around the outside of
the kitchen isle, and opening the silverware drawer. She returned to the table with
a knife, careful to keep out of the way of her mother, who had just begun
making her way back into the kitchen, now only holding a single envelope in her
hand, which she set on the counter, next to another full plate of food.
“Looks like Sarah left Evan a note
this morning!” Said his mom, now turning back to the stove, and picking up the
various pots and pans she had used to cook the morning meal.
“OOOOHHHH!” returned Emma, now
busily fixing a turkey and cheese sandwich. “It must be a love note! Tee hee!”
She giggled to herself.
“Hey!” Evan said, before realizing
what he was doing. He froze for a moment, expecting his sister to jump at his
sudden outburst. But she didn’t react, instead, she placed a piece of bread on
her now finished sandwich, before pushing it aside, and grabbing another slice.
“2 sandwiches?” came his mother’s
question from across the kitchen.
“I’m gonna make one for Evan, too.
I think he’s gonna be late!” His sister used the knife she was using to spread
mayonnaise as a pointer, indicating the clock on the stove, which now read
quarter past 7. “I haven’t even heard him get out of bed yet.“
“Huh… I hadn’t even thought of
that. What a sweet little sister you are!” Emma smiled, as she completed the
second sandwich, and then began to clean up and repackage her unused
ingredients. Evan watched his mother reach up over to the top of the fridge,
pulling down the roll of familiar brown wrapping paper she used to pack their
lunches, and brought it over to the table. As she lifted up the first sandwich,
she examined, and as she started to wrap it up in the brown paper, she chided
her daughter. “You know, I just made some egg salad this morning. Nice and
fresh! Why didn’t you use that?” Evan looked over at his sister, who was
placing the turkey, cheese, and mayonnaise back into the refrigerator. As she
closed the door, he saw that her eyes were closed, and she was shaking her head
back and forth.
“Nope! Turkey and cheese is Evan’s
favorite! And I wanted to say an early thank-you for him helping me with my
book report later.” Evan felt a funny pull in his gut. That was really sweet of
his little sister sometimes. He had no idea how she knew Turkey and cheese was
his favorite, it didn’t really come up that often. And he certainly had no idea
what her favorite sandwich might be.
As he mused, Evan watched his
mother place one of the wrapped sandwiches into the front pocket of his bag,
and hand the other to his sister, who bounded off into the living room,
presumably to pack her own backpack. He stepped back towards the counter,
looking down at his plate of food, and the envelope that sat next to it. It was
plain white, and smaller than a normal envelope, with his name written in dark
blue pen, in fancy cursive lettering, and surrounded by a heart. Beneath his
name were the words “An invitation for my love.” He suddenly wondered if that
might have had anything to do with why Sarah had been upset.
“So?” The voice jostled him. Evan
looked back at the kitchen table to find Dziga, standing atop it, lazily
leaning against his staff. With all the things that Evan had been watching, he
had almost forgotten that the small creature had been accompanying him. Before
Evan had a chance to respond, however, Z had lifted his staff above his head,
and, again, slammed it down, resulting in a bright green flash. When Evan’s
eyesight cleared, he found himself in his living room, just in enough time to
catch his own voice shout “I love you!” followed by the sound of the door
slamming. He dashed over to the window, and looked out in juts enough time to
see his own back, chasing his sister up the path. He turned back, and saw
Dziga, seated on one end of the couch, his little legs kicked over the side,
his staff held out in front of him, and his eyes, those yellow ovals, simply
watching Evan.
“We’re not gonna follow me?” Evan
asked.
“Why would we do that?” Z answered
the question with another. “You already had your chance to see today from your
perspective. Now you get to see it from some other ones.” As Dziga finished
speaking, Evan heard the sound of his mother’ coming in the direction of the
living room. As she entered, Evan saw she was holding a mug of coffee, and was
moving slowly, careful not to spill it. She sat down on the end of the couch opposite
Dziga, and placed the coffee on the table next to her. She then sat forward,
and reached around the side of the couch, to the shelf on the bottom of the end
table, grasping a large white book, and pulling it up into her lap.
Evan recognized the book. It was an old photo
album, made up pictures of his family from the time that he and his mother had
gotten married until the year that Emma had been born, and the year that Evan’s
dad had died of Leukemia. He watched as his mother leaned back, and opened the
book up to its first page. Suddenly, she seemed to freeze in place, and Evan
realized that the ambient noise in the room, the dull hum of the families
clothes dryer, the sound of cars driving by on the road outside, all of it had
gone quiet. He looked to the other end of the couch, where Z was seated. The
little imp’s left arm was outstretched, and his palm was glowing green.
“What’d you do?” Evan asked the
little creature.
“I paused everything,” Z replied.
“I wanted you to have a chance to really look at what you were seeing. Evan
looked back at his Mother, frozen in space, and took a hard look at her. He let
his eyes scan his mother’s face, first. Her lips were a warm ruby color, likely
covered in her favorite lipstick, the color she had worn on her wedding day. He
cheeks were rosy as well, and her complexion was very soft. Evan noticed how
blue her eyes were, the same blue of his own irises, a cold, piercing blue that
had warranted him many a compliment from both good friends and complete
strangers. He also noticed the bags under her eyes. Deep, dark piles of skin
that made her face look saggy and tired. Then he noticed the wrinkles in her
forehead, likely caused by many years of stress and worry. And the face was all
framed by her warm, brown, curly hair, which seemed to spring about with a life
of its own when she moved. Overall, Evan would say his mom was a beautiful
woman, but she also looked tired, like a woman whose many long days and lonely
nights had taken their toll, and what was once a young and beautiful visage was
weighed down by a long and difficult journey through life.
He slowly reached out one hand, and
placed it onto the page of the photo album his mother had opened to. She was
caught frozen in the middle of running her hand gently along the face of a
picture of herself and her husband, in full wedding regalia, dancing at their
reception. As Evan’s hand came into contact with the page, he watched as the
photo started to glow. An eerie green light framed the picture for a moment,
and the coalesced into a ball of pale green light, which lifted itself up off
of the page. Evan watched as the light rose to a point where it was level with
his head, and then expanded itself again, to the size of the picture. Suddenly,
the image in the photo appeared within the light, and Evan watched as the
figures began dancing and moving in the frame, heard the sounds of the music
and of people laughing, and reveling in the new marriage.
Within that frame of light, Evan
saw his mother as a young woman. Carefree, happy, laughing as though she
believed the entire world was without worry, or care. This woman, dancing and
twirling and making merry, showed no hint of the woman she would become. Her
eyes were alight with life, her cheeks warm with color that was natural, and
needed no cosmetic enhancement. He face was warm, and jovial, the only lines
were those caused by her facing changing shapes to keep up with her laughter.
Evan almost didn’t believe that the woman in this frame could be the woman that
sat in front of him, the old, tired woman, a victim of life and it’s
circumstance. And yet, he had never once heard her complain, or whine, and each
day, when his gaze met hers in the morning, she returned the look with a smile.
Suddenly, Evan lifted his hand, and
waved away the image in front of him, scattering the green light and its
contents like wisps of smoke. He stood up, and turned away from his mother, and
closed his eyes, as his gut wrenched again, just like it had when his sister
had commented about his favorite sandwich, but much, much worse. This time the
feeling lingered, a feeling that made Evan feel like he had spent the whole day
listening to the saddest songs he could find. He closed his eyes, and fought
the urge to cry.
“Something wrong?” The voice was as
chiding and jolly as ever, a mixture of playful mischief and aged wisdom.
“No, I just… Listen, can we go
somewhere else?”
“Sure thing!” Evan looked over, and
saw the imp repeat the tell-tale motion, lifting his staff into the air, and
swiftly bringing it down in front of him, bringing forth another great burst of
green light.
Evan found himself standing at the
edge of the school grounds. He could see the sun off to the west in the sky,
telling him it was likely afternoon. He looked around, catching a glimpse of a
few people making their way out of the school’s side doors, and then heard the
bell. “End of the day?” he wondered to himself, then confirming the thought as
he watched a horde of high school kids pour out of the various doors, and make
their way off of the school grounds.
Among them, he noticed his
girlfriend Sarah, making her way out the front door, trying to avoid being
trampled by her peers. Instinctively, Evan went to call out for her, but then
remembered that it was unlikely she would be able to hear him. Instead, he
watched as she made her way in the direction of where he and Dziga were
standing, coming to rest a few steps away, she dropped her bag to the ground,
and then turned herself back towards the school door, and crossed her arms.
Evan now recognized the moment Z
had brought him too, and, sure enough, he watched as, after a moment, himself
and Matt came out of the school’s front door, talking about Matt’s truck. He
watched as his past self noticed Sarah, and then watched as he and Matt exchanged
a few words, then parted. “Darn,” he thought to himself, “I thought I was a lot
closer on that punch.” Then, as Matt made his way off the grounds and in the
direction of his home, Evan’s past self approached Sarah, and he watched all
over again as he and Sarah began to argue.
Suddenly, the figures of Evan’s
past self and Sarah froze, mid-shouting, and silence fell upon Evan’s ears. He
looked over to see Dziga again, with one of his little arms outstretched,
gloved hand glowing green.
“Do you remember what she was angry
about?” The little imp asked him.
“No,” Evan replied. “She never
really told me. I just figured she wanted to be mad at me.”
“Did she never tell you, or were
you just not listening?” Z asked.
“I was listening!” Evan protested.
“I just wasn’t in the mood for a fight! I wanted to go to Matt’s! I didn’t have
time for her!”
“Well, she certainly had time for
you.” Dziga said, almost chuckling at the statement. He waved his stick in the
direction of his and Sarah’s frozen forms, and Evan watched as his was suddenly
outlined in green. Then, the imp dropped his hand, and the world came back into
motion. However, now, for some reason, though Evan could see his past self
making motions, and moving his mouth, he couldn’t hear his own voice. Only that
of his girlfriends, an angry frustrated tone, seemingly engaged in an argument
with no one.
“I spent all morning getting it
ready!” He heard his girlfriend say. “I cut myself, twice!” The image of Sarah
lifted her hand in the air, revealing 2 Band-Aids, one on the end of her index
finger, and one on the end of her thumb. As her hand reached the top of its
motion, bring it level with the chest of his past self, Evan saw her motion
slow to a halt again, and saw the two fingers now outlined in green. Just as
before, with the picture from his mother’s wedding, the green light lifted off
of the finger and coalesced into two small balls of green light, which floated
over towards Evan’s face.
As they neared him, Evan watched as
they shaped themselves into to similarly sized rectangles, and within, saw 2
images of his girlfriend, one with her wearing an apron, and standing over a
cutting board the other, apparently in the middle of writing something. As they
settled next to one another, the two images then began to move. The one on the
right showed Sarah apparently cutting up a melon of some sort, and placing the
pieces into a Tupperware container. In the other, she was seated at her dining
room table methodically scrawling a long note in blue pen.
Evan watched as the image on the
right showed Sarah accidentally get one of her fingers too close to the edge of
the knife she was using, just close enough to graze the side of her finger. As
she brought the blade down, her hand quickly recoiled, and she brought the affected
finger up to her mouth, and sucked, her eyes closed in surprise in pain.
The image in on the left shifted,
so Evan could see what Sarah was writing. It was a note, or more aptly, an
invitation, apparently addressed to him. It seemed to be inviting him to join
her outside of the school during lunch, for a romantic outdoor picnic. It was
written in flowing script, and used lavish language, referring to Evan as “the
kind gentlemen,” asking if he “Desired to dine with a fair lady in a romantic
setting.” As Sarah finished writing the note, she signed it, and folded up the
paper she had written it on. She then took the paper and placed it inside a
familiar envelope, which she had already decorated. She licked the glue on the
fold of the envelope to make it sticky, and then used her finger to seal the
envelope shut. As she slid her finger along, she must have given herself a
paper cut, because Evan watched this image mirror the other, as she brought the
affected finger to her mouth, and sucked.
Once both images had shown Sarah
getting cut, the two frames of light collided with one another and the images
with reformed into a new one, showing Sarah, on her way to school, and stopping
in front of Evan’s house. She reached into her bag, produced the envelope,
placed it within his mailbox, and then smiled silently to herself as she
carried on in the direction of the school. Instead of following her walk, the
image within the light faded out, and then the two balls separated again, and
floated back towards the frozen Sarah’s bandaged hand.
“Did I really blow her off?” Evan
looked down towards Dziga in question. As a response, the little imp lifted his
staff, and began spinning it in the air, this time in a counter-clockwise
direction. Evan watched as the frozen images of himself and Sarah suddenly
began to reverse their motions. After a moment, he watched as his image began
moving backwards, away from Sarah, falling into line with the image of Matt,
and moving backwards through the school doors. All the other people as well,
seeming to move like the actors on screen when rewinding a VHS tape. Evan
watched as the sun moved west to east in the sky, until it made its way right
to the middle, high above the school. “Noon,” Evan thought. “Lunchtime.” He
looked away from the sky, and examined the school grounds. Not far away, he saw
the image of his girlfriend, seated on a blanket, next to a picnic basket. She
sat next to a plié of Tupperware containers, which all sat open, and next to a
vase, with a pair of roses in it. He made his way over, and saw the she was
seated with her legs stretch out in from of her on the blanket. She was leaning
back, using her arms to prop herself up, and her head was laid back, as though
resting on an invisible pillow.
As he looked, Evan realized that
her eyes were red, and puffy. It looked like she had been crying. How long, he
wondered, had she been out here, waiting for him to make his way out of the
school and join her? As he watched, she sat up, and reached into her pocket,
pulling out her cell phone. She used it to check the time, and perhaps to see
if there was any word from Evan, then gave a frustrated, disappointed sigh. She
started placing the lids on her various containers, and placing them in the
basket. After everything was collected, she picked up the vase, looked at the
roses for a moment, then unceremoniously dumped them onto the ground next to
the blanket. She then folded the blanket, placed it and the vase into the
picnic basket, and carried them inside.
Evan watched her go, and then sat
himself down where her set up had been. He let himself fall into a lying
position, and sprawled in the grass, trying to combat the tension on the pit of
his gut, renewed again by what he had just witnessed. He closed his eyes, and took
in a deep breath of air. He felt like such an idiot, and a jerk. He would have
really liked to have had lunch with Sarah, and even if he hadn’t he didn’t want
to upset her. Worse than that, he had been too worried about trying to get to
Matt’s to even take the time to understand why she was upset. All of which was
his fault anyway, because he had been in a hurry that morning, and hadn’t been
paying attention when his mother handed him the envelope. Evan would have liked
to lie there in the cool grass for a while, and try to sort things out in his
head. Unfortunately, however, he suddenly noticed that a shadow had cast itself
over his face. He opened his eyes, to find the blue-robed imp standing over
him, staring down at him with those glowing yellow ovals.
“Something wrong?” Dziga echoed his
query from before. Evan rolled over on his side, putting his back to the imp.
Rather than answer the imp’s question, he asked one of his own.
“Can I go home now?”
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