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Raph, age 17
“This will be a great day, Raphael. You’ll have fun. Now get in the car, please.”
It was like a catchphrase. My ‘mom’ dragged me to some picnic party for some guy a year ahead of me I’d never met, because she thought I needed to make more friends. Everyone had their plans and ideas for what I lacked, what would fix me.
They said I was a problem child, and they were right. I was, and I liked it that way. My birth mom left me on the cold cement steps of a church she’d never attended with no records. I didn’t even have a birthday. They took a tiny screaming me to the hospital and did lots of tests. I couldn’t have been more than a few days old. My mother had been on drugs, but I was healthy, if not miserable. Who wouldn’t be in a situation like that? I didn’t blame infant me one bit.
Six foster homes later, and there I was on my way to socialize more. Wannabe Mom was determined to eliminate what was wrong with me.
I rolled my eyes, resigned, and got in the car.
It doesn’t matter, I just have to get through today.
We arrived at a playground with a half-moon of rusty pavilions. I trailed behind, but still snagged myself a cold soda from a portable cooler shoved against the crudely painted cinderblock wall. Small clusters of people dotted the vicinity, and I knew none of them, not even my so-called mom. There were at least ten other places I’d rather be.
My guardian fell into conversation with a group of ladies who looked like they’d come straight from church, even though it wasn’t Sunday and we were outside. It was a prime opportunity to sneak away from her overprotective helicopter mom’s eye.
I didn’t have some grade desire to be a miscreant, I just didn’t want to be told what to do all the time. I was sick of being told how to behave, who to make friends with, what I needed to do with my time… All of it. For the first time in my life, I wanted to choose for myself. But before I made it more than a couple steps, a hand closed around my arm. I froze, tensing all my muscles. Frustration radiated to my toes.
“Why don’t you walk over to the playground and see if there are any kids your age? Maybe you’ll make some friends, Raphael. Isn’t it nice to have some trees and fresh air?”
I said nothing, I just fixed her with a bored stare. Are you done yet?
“Be back in an hour, please.”
She handed me a cell phone, and I shoved it into my pocket, agitated that she didn’t think I was trustworthy enough for even the bare essentials. I was seventeen fucking years old. But I knew better than to argue when some reprieve from her condescension glowed on the horizon.
I walked away from the main pavilion and apprised a group of teenagers standing by an old metal swing set. They didn’t look like they needed a nobody coming up to them looking for friendship, and I didn’t want to be that guy, anyway. I turned on my heel and set off in the other direction.
I was tired of the new-family-every-year-or-so thing, and had a plan to run away to New York. Soon. Tonight. And this plan was better than all the other half-baked schemes I’d hatched over the years. I’d put a lot of effort into this one, and had everything I needed in place. All that was left was biding my time, getting through this pointless party, and waiting until my foster mother went into her bedroom to watch the news. She’s be asleep before the last segment concluded.
Solitude and freedom would be so much better than being around all these people I would never see again, didn’t care about, and therefore, didn’t like. No one ever understood me, and they never tried. As far as I was concerned, it would be good riddance.
After I walked a while and the grating sound of humans softened, I found a stream at the edge of a field. There was a sand bar at the bottom of the steep embankment.
Perfect, peace at last.
I slid down the bank and onto the sand at the water’s edge. The babbling soothed me, and tension eased out of my neck and shoulders. I plopped down and leaned back against the bank, straightening my legs toward the water. I’d spent a lot of time in urban places, but there was a sleepy charm to this suburb I’d remember a little more fondly than some of my other homes.
Wind kicked up, tousling the leaves in the trees across the water. I glanced a flash of color way up. There was something up there.
Curiosity got the best of me, and I jumped across some rocks that looked strategically organized into a hopping path. The last one wobbled under my beat-up sneaker and threatened to toss me into the water. Instead, I lurched forward and fell on my hands and knees on the muddy ground, narrowly avoiding a soaking.
The heels of my hands stung as I brushed away mud and dried out leaves. I looked up the steep tree-laden hill and picked my footholds with precision. I didn’t want to fall while I climbed, or I’d be in worse shape than just being wet. I wasn’t used to the terrain of Nowhereland. It was an adjustment.
I didn’t remember the name of the town I was in, but it didn’t matter. In my mind, I was already gone. By the end of the week, I’d disappear into the night, New York City bound. Tonight, if everything went according to plan.
I made it to the base of the tree without falling on my ass, hallelujah. The neighboring tree had branches low enough that I could jump and reach a good handhold. There were plenty of limbs to climb like a ladder, but foliage blocked me from seeing high enough to discover what I caught a glimpse of before. Even if it was nothing but trash caught on a branch, the tree would make a good hiding spot for the rest of the afternoon until I got called back to the circus to perform tricks for my master.
I hoisted myself into the tree and started the climb toward the thick foliage, working slowly and carefully.
When I got there, I moved smaller branches out of my way and revealed the answer to the mystery.
A beautiful girl asleep in the gnarled branches, golden hair spilling over her freckled shoulder. My heartbeat picked up as I leaned closer, desperate not to make a sound. She smelled like clean air and flowers, and I liked it. I drew closer, unable to resist inspecting my unexpected discovery. She slept so peacefully.
Lia
Iwas at the beach, the day was warm, and Henry and I played in the waves. My butt was bruised from crash-landing more times than I could count. But then, I smelled something woody, earthen, and spicy. I scrunched up my nose, trying to figure out what could cut through the ocean’s pungent aroma.
