The Boy in the Gray Hoodie

5...

5...

Marley came back.

She didn't talk about her son anymore, or the book that they took from me. But that was okay, because it felt good just to know that she was there on the other side of the glass.

After three days, everything was back to normal. I was getting injections again through the cylinder. They hurt, but Marley talked me through them. After one particularly painful injection, I asked her why.

"Why what?"

"Why do you break the rules and talk to me?" I elaborated, knowing she disliked the vague questions I usually asked. "No one else does."

"James does." She replied quietly. Her voice was mostly static.

I shrugged, brushing two fingers over a fresh bandage taped to the crook of my elbow. "Sometimes." I responded.

"He's busy." Marley excused.

I was moping. I wasn't supposed to mope, but I couldn't help it. James hadn't talked to me for days—and he'd never talked to me like Marley did. I was starting to feel uneasy around him. He seemed angry about something, but I didn't know what.

"Is it...i-is it me?" I asked after a moment. I could hear plastic snap and glass touch on Marley's side of the wall. She was putting away the blood samples she had just drawn from my veins. "Is he...unhappy with me? Have I d-done something wrong?"

"No, why would you think that?" Marley responded.

I looked away from my reflection, my hands twisting the folds of my dark blue t-shirt. Silently, I shrugged.

"James is just busy." Marley explained. There was pain in her voice, but it was just barely detectable beneath the edge of optimism that was always present when she talked to me. She always tried to sound happy, even when she was sad. "You're his life's work, you know." She stated.

I looked up at the mirror, curiosity flashing across my face. "His life's work?" I repeated questioningly. What did that mean? Was I...special to him? Was I more than just...me?

"I'll tell you one thing," Marley went on. Her voice fluctuated in volume over the speaker system as she moved around in the other room. "That man spends more time here with you than he does with his..." she cleared her throat. "...Other obligations." She finally finished.

"Is he here today?" I asked softly, approaching the glass.

"...No," Marley hesitated. "Not today. He had to leave for a while. But he'll be back. And when he does, he promised he'd bring you something special."

I was instantly excited. My reflection cracked a crooked, boyish smile. "A leaf?" I guessed. "I promise I won't break it this time,"

Marley chuckled. "No. Not a leaf. Something better." She answered. "But I'm not saying anything else. It's supposed to be a surprise, remember?"

I smiled, jerking my head back and tapping the glass excitedly, bouncing from one foot to the other and letting out a small, happy moan. "How long?" I inquired eagerly.

"Just a day or two. You're gonna like it," she added with a smile in her voice.

"Marley!" I jumped backwards a couple of times, and then forward again, too excited to stand still. James wasn't upset with me. James was bringing me a present. James was coming back. I couldn't wait. The sound of Marley's laugh tumbled from the speaker system just before it clicked off.

I stilled immediately. Sidling up to the glass, I peered at my reflection as though I might somehow see through to the other side. I couldn't, but it made me feel better to be closer to the glass, closer to outside.