Cicadas

Chapter Two

Twelve years ago

I love my uncle Louie. I am sitting on my front steps, waiting for him to arrive. I am five today. I do not care about anyone else at my party except him. He always makes me happy; when I am around him I forget about the way my parents yell at each other.

They think I cannot hear, but I can. I can always hear what they are saying to each other.

His car pulls up, and I run to greet him. Aunt Jess gets out first, but I ignore her. I do not like my aunt Jess. She pays no attention to me.

Uncle Louie gets out of the car. He sees me. I run up and hug him.

~

I see my uncle Louie in the car. He is driving it fast on a road near my neighborhood. He is laughing like my parents do when they drink too much of the strong smelling, bad-tasting liquid that they have at dinner parties.

He is talking to somebody in the seat next to him. I cannot see who it is. The clock on the dashboard reads 10:03.

Uncle Louie suddenly falls asleep, and the car hits a tree.

Uncle Louie is no longer in the car. He is lying on the ground of the forest that surrounds our neighborhood, and the only sound is the rhythmic chant of nearby cicadas.

~

Uncle Louie lets me go. I am back in my front yard. I am handed a present, and I run inside to put it with the others. I do not want to think about the strange thing I just saw when I had hugged uncle Louie.

It is a fun party. I get lots of presents and eat lots of cake, and then I play with my cousins while the grown ups are drinking the strange liquid and laughing. They are not my uncle Louie's children; they are from my father's side. I play with them because I do not have any friends. Everybody thinks I am strange, but I do not mind. I am used to being strange.

I hear my parents yelling at each other again. I do not like when my parents yell, especially after they have been drinking the liquid. They get meaner when they have had it.

I go to look for uncle Louie. He will make everything better. He always does.

I do not see him with the other grown-ups. Maybe my mother will know where he is.

"Mommy, where's uncle Louie?"

My mother looks up from a conversation with a slightly annoyed expression. She is holding a nearly empty glass of the strange liquid. "He left."

I do not understand why he left. I did not want him to leave. I need him to make me forget about my angry parents. "What?"

"Your uncle Louie left with your aunt Jess just a few minutes ago. Julie, it's ten O'clock. People have to go home."

The digital clock on the counter reads 10:03. I remember the scene that had entered my mind when I hugged uncle Louie. The clock in the car had read 10:03 also.

I cannot move. I am so scared. What if the scene will come true?

"Julie?" My father has noticed that I am not moving. I barely hear him. I am thinking about my uncle Louie who I am afraid is laying on the forest floor, covered in blood and not moving like I had seen.

"No!" I scream at the top of my lungs. I need to go to my uncle Louie and make sure that he is still breathing. I need him to make me feel better. I do not want to listen to my parents yell anymore.

I am running. Before I noticed that I have left my house, I am running down the street. I remember the road where I had seen the car hit the tree.

My parents are running after me. Shouting. But I am fast, and the liquid is slowing them down.

The car is there. Uncle Louie's car is there, smashed up against a tree.

Uncle Louie is there too, not in the car, but lying on the forest floor. He does not respond when I shake him. He is bleeding from a thousand different places, and the shape of his limbs does not look right.

I look at the car. The front end is crumpled, and aunt Jess is in the passenger seat. She does not move either.

The sobs escape me, and I hug my dear uncle Louie. The scene plays over and over again in my head when I touch him, except this time it is without color or sound. Like an old forgotten tape playing hopelessly on loops, never to be seen by anyone again.

The only sound I can hear is the rhythmic chant of nearby cicadas. I know instantly that they will be there to haunt me for the rest of my life.