Mind Over Matter

o.

s q u a r e o n e

Six blocks from the intersection across their street was an abandoned building. An apartment built by red bricks that crept up the walls. As time passed by, vines and moss grew and clung on to the side of the building.

Two kids—about twelve, a girl and a boy—ran up and down the street. The afternoon sunlight beamed over them, forming misshapen shadows. It was a Saturday.  No one's strolling and there were no cars running; only parked. It was unusual for a small and busy town. Matt nudged his friend, Aria, and asked her where all the people were. In reply, she shrugged.

Matt, after that, trudged towards the apartment. "Wait," Aria said, grabbing his arm.  "Where—" he cut her off by hushing her. "My dad showed me a place," Matt said. "Come on." Aria sighed and was forced to follow. They ran to the building with her shaking her head.

The air was humid and dead silent. Their footsteps fell on the floor in an uneven beat. They approached the side of the building where a rusty gate was. Aria's hand itched to swing it open forcefully but Matt stopped her, slapping her hand gently. "Slowly," he said quietly. She nodded. The gate creaked loudly which caused the birds to chirp. Aria was lost considering that there weren't any trees in the area, just houses. She looked at him, her face plastered with confusion. Matt smirked, completely understanding her. They've been friends and neighbors for five good years now.

As they walked, green spots emerged at the corner of their eyes. They drew closer to the building. Matt chuckled as he led Aria, as if enjoying it. Her mind was racing and her gut felt like someone was tugging it. Aria doesn't know how to deal with confusion. 

Pacing forward, the green spots took shape. Leaves. And where there are leaves, there are trees. "Oh," she said. And below the tree was— "A shack," Matt said. "My dad lived here when he was younger. No one was using this," gesturing to the shack. "So he made it his clubhouse... or something like that. He always wanted a tree house but he knew that he'll never have one so this would do." His voice was smooth and calming.

Aria's eyes scanned the shack from the rotting wooden walls, but still sturdy, to the dusty windows. Matt grinned, as if he was proud of the place. They entered with great caution. The inside was dark, even if there were windows. The place was under a tree so technically they were inside a shadow.

Across the floor was an old carpet which gave off dust. Both inhaled some and coughed in unison. There were tables and cabinets on one side, chairs and posters on the other. Inside the cabinets were letters from Matt's dad was still young. 

"Did they ever find him?" Aria asked out of the blue. She wasn't aware why she did it.

"What?" said Matt. They swore that they'll never talk about their fathers but Aria thought that this was and exception since they're at his dad's place.

She repeated the question, "Did they ever find him?" Matt raised an eyebrow at her. "His body, I mean." she said.

"Ah," he replied, shifting his weight from one foot to another. The topic made him uncomfortable. "They never did." he continued. His eyes fell on the floor, suddenly filled with despair.

Aria, completely regretting what she said, apologized. "I'm sorry," she said.

"It's not your fault," Matt said, ending his sentence on a sharp note as if he wanted to say more but didn't continue. Something like that he died. His blue eyes were still locked on the floor.

"You always tell me it's not my fault," Aria's voice was shrill. It caught Matt's attention, who stared at her in an unrecognizable expression. She sighed. It was hopeless getting to a fight with him. Or even just a flare. "Never mind," she sighed.

Matt's dad was in the army. He was in the navy, to be exact. While they were at war, guiding the coastline, a bomb was thrown at their ship. Almost none survived. They found the bodies of the deceased, excluding his dad. Up until now, no one knew who had caused the bombing. Sure Matt's family wanted a proper burial but it was near impossible to. Instead, they buried and empty coffin with the ashes of some of his clothing. At least they we're sure that he was in peace.

At least.

Heavy intensity filled the atmosphere. It was choking both of them; the words that they couldn't find constricted them.

Silence.

Finally, Matt spoke, "Anyways," he put on a slight smile but the light in his eyes were still in minimal darkness. "This is a super secret place. Even my mom doesn't know it."

"Then why'd you take me here?" Aria questioned.

"Because you're my friend."

"Isn't your mom your friend?" 

"She's my mom." Aria laughed. They both did.

They stayed for a little while, reading all the letters out loud with a different accent every letter they read. They scanned through Matt’s father’s pictures, too. They were the typical ones like getting his own bike, graduation, summer with his friends and that stuff. But one photo they stared at the longest. He was in front of the same building, standing straight and looked awfully youthful. On his hands was a blank paper. His smile was so big it was contagious.

“What’s written on it?” Matt asked.

“How should I know?”

“I don’t know.”

“Okay,”

Matt thought about it for a while but it seemed right. He knew that it was right. “Hey,” he said. “Since we’re already here, why don’t we make this our clubhouse? Like a meeting place.” Aria nodded slowly as Matt continued. “You know catch dust bunnies and eat pretzels behind Mom’s back,”

“Only if we adjourn before 5:30.” she decided.

“Deal.” Matt offered his hand gingerly.

Aria took it, “Deal.”

As they walked home, the sky they were beneath in was bright orange. “Hey Matt,” Aria said.

“Yeah?” He walked with his chin up, gazing at the sky. It was a while since the sky was like that.

“You never told me his name,”

He faced his friend, noticing how the orange grew darker in her grey eyes. “My dad?” he asked.

“Mhmm.”

“But I thought…” he trailed off. It occurred to him that he never did. It was unlikely for him to forget. Or maybe he just didn’t want to talk about it. “Christopher.”

“That’s a nice name.” Matt smiled at the comment. He thought so, too.

The light eventually died and the day ended. But the memory didn’t.