Saying Goodbye

3: On the Road

I yawned, kicking the covers off of me. I turned back over, shoving my face into the pillow. I sat up, rubbing my eyes, and I got out of bed. With my sheets on the floor, and my hair a wreck, walked out of my room, and into the kitchen, where I grabbed a bowl to fill up with cereal. When I had finally come to my senses, I realized something.

Wait... I thought, Isn't today Wednesday? I looked around the silent house. But... But it's eight thirty in the morning... Shouldn't they all be awake by now? Shouldn't we be on the flight... And then drive the rest of the way... This doesn't make any sense...

I paused, my spoon mid-air, as I saw Chester. He was sitting at my side, his tail wagging violently, and he panted hard. I could tell, he was begging. "You want some, Chester?" I asked him. He continued, looking right at my spoon. "Okay.." I'd say. I picked up one of the small Cheerios, and placed it on his nose. "Wait..." I'd say to him. He obviously understood me, because it stayed in it's place. "...Wait Chester..." I'd say, getting him to wait longer, to see if he could resist. "Okay, you can have it." I said. He Licked it off is nose, and chewed on it some.

He went back to his bedding, and he lied down, picking up his squeaky toy, and began squeaking it a few times. It was shaped like a monkey, but with a small fluffy ball on the end of its tail, and all of its' limbs. He seemed to like it. A couple of years ago, when Chester was just a little puppy, he'd always used to play with it. It was worn in the corner of its face, where it's ear was, and on it's stomach. There was a tear over it's eye, almost giving it a warrior look to it.

I stood up, and walked lazily over to my parents' rooms. I quietly opened the door, without it creaking, and saw my dad wasn't there. There was a bed print where his lying body was. He was sitting at the table, that had his small laptop at it. I wanted to ask him what he was doing, but now I was afraid I might wake up mom. Luckily, he hadn't noticed the bright sunlight flowing in from the bedroom door. he must have still been too tired to notice.

I quietly tip-toed over to him, peering over his shoulder to see he was on a job-finding website. He must have noticed me, because he turned around. "Dad," I'd say, whispering, "What are you doing? Aren't we supposed to take the plane to California? What happened to the trip? Why aren't we going?" He looked up at me, sleepy-eyed, and said, "Change of plans. Your grandparents are going to pick you up Friday morning, not today." I stared wide-eyed, in shock. We aren't going today...? I thought. What am I going to do? It helps a little, it now being on Friday, but I have to be present at the competition if I want to earn the prize, If I even get the prize.

"What... What do you mean?" I asked, still in a quiet voice. "We couldn't have it be today. Change of plans. The weather was just plain terrible. It rained fiercely. So much, to where they knew that today the rain would come down even harder. Well, that's what they predicted. And, they were right." dad said, whispering. "I'm sorry." he concluded.

It rained? I thought to myself. I dashed over to the window next to the couch. As I slowly opened the blinds, the rain crashed loudly against the window, startling me. "Woah." I said to myself watching it crash harder and harder.

Dad entered the room noisily, carrying his laptop, and sat down on the couch, placing his laptop on the small coffee table. He continued typing, staring at the small screen. I sighed, looking at the blank TV. It had been blank for about 8 months now, since we obviously couldn't afford that either.

I remember watching the last episode of Silly Gorge, which was a stupid adult humor show, when the TV turned off in the middle of the show. I walked over to the TV, and clicked the on button a couple of times. Finally, it turned on, but the cable box wouldn't turn on. I tried to turn it back on, but it wouldn't turn on. I ran to dad, and asked him what was wrong. He said that it was just broken, and that we had to get another one. We never got another one. I knew he lied. I knew the truth. I knew we couldn't afford to pay for cable. Ever since, we never had cable.

I thought about that time a lot, but it never occurred to me, until now, that I missed watching Silly Gorge.

I turned my head towards my dad, and he looked bummed. Maybe he was sad, or angry, or even worried. I wasn't sure, but I decided I wanted to work on my drawing a little longer. I stood up and quietly tip-toed back to my room, and picked up my small panda drawing. It was almost done. It just needed some coloring.

*           *           *

I was sat down, on the rock, and I picked up my coloring kit and began filling in the blanks. Suddenly, something in the buses rustled. It continued until I stood up and walked over there. I knelt down, and parted the bush with my hands, already covered in pencil markings and colors from shading. I peered inside, only to finding nothing. Behind me, I heard a bush begin to rustle from behind the rock I was sitting at, and when I turned my head, it was gone. My drawing was gone.

"Hey!" Is say angrily to the bush, hoping someone was still there with my drawing so I could get it back, and also so it wouldn't seem as though I was making a scene to a bush. I looked around frantically, to see no one was there. I walked onto the trail to see if I might catch them running off, but no one was dashing along on the trail either, which surprised me because usually you'll see a runner or a bicyclist on the trail, but there was no one. No one at all. It was like a blank canvas, as blank as the eye could see. But there had to be something. Something I was missing. Someone had to be behind this. I have to paint the canvas, to find it. To find the secret. To find my drawing.

I glanced around frantically, and saw the tree where the squirrel had been. Last time I was drawing here, it was only a couple of days ago. It was there. I was surprised. I didn't think it would be there, but it was. I watched it, as it stared straight at me. It almost startled me, when it whipped it's head to it's right, looking right at the bush. The bush where my drawing had so suddenly and "magically" disappeared. 

I look to the bush, to hear something cracking. Almost like something's breaking inside the bush. Whoever or whatever it is, they were ruining something. I part the bush with my hands, to see that there's nothing there. I step away from the bush, and then a broken pencil, in two parts, appears before me. "MY PENCIL!" I screamed. That's the one I was drawing with! A squirrel jumped out of the bushes, and ran away with my drawing. 

I ran after it, my hair blowing in my face. It blocked my view, but I wiped it out of my face, being sure that I could see exactly what was in front of me. I ran faster, my legs felt hot under the burning sun, as it scorched my skin. My shorts sure didn't seem to help, since they only covered a small portion of my legs. 

The hot, humid air was warm as I panted, running faster. I slowly became tired of running for what seemed like miles, but was only a hundred feet or so. It finally stopped, and it whipped it's head around fast, and it glanced at me. It's beating eyes almost seemed to burn hard into my skin, which didn't seem to help, since it was already hot out. 

It dashed up the tree, leaving my drawing there, laying flat on the ground, left with a couple of smudges and with a torn corner where it had dragged it on the ground behind it. I felt tears rolling down my face, and it felt good. My burning skin felt as if it was starting to boil the trail of tears that appeared on my face. I began crying more and more, until it was unstoppable. I couldn't help but fall to my knees, holding the ragged drawing in my burning hands. My tears fell on my thighs, and they cooled the burning surfaces. 

I ran home, holding my drawing close to my chest, tears flowing behind me. All I could think was that my future with my parents, staying in the same place, same house, might have just flown from my fingertips.