in bloom [rodrick heffley]

chapter 1: clouds and caterpillars

Night was creeping in as I arrived to suburbia. The lovely homes seemed endless as my aunt drove in silence. I dreamed of homes like the ones of Plainview in my gloomiest times. It almost made me happy to be there.

I sensed Aunt Jill's unease, as I'm sure she sensed mine, but I was thankful for the quiet. There were hardly words for a situation like ours.

When she pulled into a driveway, I began to feel strange. I felt an overwhelming urge to jump out of the car and run into the nearby woods. I imagined befriending the woodland animals and disappearing for good. It seemed beautiful to live free with no name, no attachments. Despite the urge, I sat still in my seat, allowing the fantasy to remain just that.

The room Jill led me to once inside was plain white with only a bed and a dresser. A blank canvas.

"I... can get more things for you. A TV and some curtains."

She was fixating on making me feel comfortable instead of discussing the events that had taken place, and I was thankful. I wasn't sure what I would tell her if she began asking questions.

"Thank you," I said, placing my bags on the floor.

I could feel her gaze for a few seconds before she left without another word.

•

The next five days came and went in a flash. I sat in Aunt Jill's backyard most of the time, playing with caterpillars and watching the clouds. I felt a calmness I had never known when I'd lie on the sweeping green lawn. I felt one with everything.

My new room became my sanctuary, its walls protected me as I slept. Jill followed through with her promise to get curtains and a television, but it was unlike any I'd ever seen. It was large, thin, and shiny black, compared to the small, boxy one I'd watch the preachers on at my old home. I've yet to turn it on because she left for work before she could explain it to me.

Today was the first day I was by myself. I'd never been alone in a house for more than fifteen minutes, so as the hours passed on, I grew anxious, like someone would burst in and judge me at any second.

It's not gonna be like that anymore, I reminded myself. Aunt Jill is different.

I decided to explore the parts of the house I'd yet to go in. I walked into the room across from mine, and found it was congested with many boxes, bags, and clothes in plastic coverings. I remembered Jill telling me at dinner the night before that she buys lots of things when she travels. I told her my mother always told me that only wicked people buy things they don't need. She didn't respond. I assumed that wasn't a good thing to say and felt ashamed until I went to sleep.

Next, I found a room downstairs filled floor to ceiling with books on every wall. A single recliner and a small table with a lamp sat in the middle of the windowless space. Unlike the previous room, this one was in perfect condition.

I shut the door behind me as I looked in awe. I'd never seen so many books at once. The only book I was allowed to read for many years was the Bible. My mother eventually began to buy me fiction novels about teenagers rejecting the modern world and turning away from sin. I hoped Aunt Jill would allow me to read from her wonderful collection.

I was about to leave when I noticed a book halfway tucked into the recliner cushion. Curious to see what Jill was reading, I picked it up. But it wasn't a novel. The hard cover was blank and the pages were plastic. I opened it up to see pictures placed behind the clear film. The first page was just pictures of a young girl, about thirteen years old. She was smiling with a telephone pressed between her shoulder and her ear. Her hair was big and feathery and beautiful. I eventually realized it was Aunt Jill.