Chasing Embers | 1

02 | E m b e r

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Tyler and I made the trip home after school. Jonah had tutoring, so we left without him. I looked around the street as we walked. A stray dog bounced around in the small alley to my left, looking for food. We walked past tall, fancy apartments with large windows and metal fire escapes.

Mrs. Johnson, Harper's grandmother, was sitting in a chair knitting a sweater on the Johnson's small porch. She waved hello to me and my brother as we passed. I waved and continued walking before she could start a conversation that would last for eons.

"How are you and JoJo," I asked Tyler.

He blushed and looked at his shoes. "It's nothing."

I chuckled. "What do you mean?"

Tyler shook his head. "I can't tell you."

I scoffed. "Like I have anyone to tell. What did she surprise you with at recess?"

"Nothing," Tyler drew out, obviously hiding something.

"Nothing? Really?" I prodded.

"Yes," he stated firmly.

We passed a cream colored townhouse. The mailbox had "Barrett" painted on the side. Tyler stared at the house for a bit. This was JoJo's house. Her older brothers, John and Justin–yes all their names start with J–were tossing an old football. JoJo sat on the front porch, braiding her ginger hair.

"Speaking of," I muttered, nudging Tyler.

He hit my arm away. "Stop it!"

When JoJo saw Tyler, she blushed and gave him a small wave. He ducked his head and waved back. JoJo giggled and scrambled inside. I smiled at the sight and took a right.

We kept walking, passing houses and alleys. In one of the alleys across the street, there was a garbage man emptying a dumpster. A large garbage truck was parked outside the alley. The man was dressed in a blue jumpsuit and had a matching blue cap pulled low over his face. He lifted one of the black garbage bags out from the dumpster. It caught on the corner and ripped as he pulled, causing all the garbage to spill out of the hole. Crushed soda cans and takeout boxes fell to the ground.

The man muttered under his breath and threw the bag into the back of the truck. Then, what he did next made my eyes bulge. He swirled his hands, and the garbage on the ground lifted into the air.

Completely suspended. Floating. No strings attached.

I gaped as I watched him direct the garbage into the back of the garbage truck. There was no way that was real. I had to be hallucinating. I tore my eyes away and glanced at Tyler. He was too busy staring at his shoes to notice anything. I looked back to the garbage man. He had hopped onto the back of the truck, and it began driving away.

I shook my head and told myself it was nothing. I needed more sleep.

My townhouse was across the street. As we walked towards it, I opened the mailbox with my last name, Matthews, written on it. No mail, not surprising. When I turned towards the concrete path, Tyler was running down it towards the cute, faded olive colored house to the left of three others in an identical shape. An old rocking chair sat on the small porch, a dream catcher floating above it. My grandma had made it. She'd decided that she wanted to do something everyone would remember her by when she was gone. Lots of people on my street had her dream catchers.

A stray soccer ball sat stationary in our mini yard and Tyler picked it up as he neared the porch.

I followed Tyler up the stairs to the front door, hefting my black backpack over my shoulder. By the time I got to the door, Tyler was sitting on the rocking chair with my old calico cat, Nala, on his lap. His curly blonde hair fell in his eyes as he spoke quietly to my cat.