Dark Alley

Chapter 35

     Mrs. Dekker took me to a familiar place outside of school. My stomach suddenly ached knowing how much Calvin would kill me from breaking his rules. I am walking with a crazy woman I used to know who really is closely related to me. Mrs. Dekker could be the one who could tell me the truth.

     I realized why the place was so familiar. It was the place I last went to, the place with blue houses who all looks the same. The place where I met Hennick, a friend of Q and R who are not fond of helping or even entertaining guests.

     "Why are you taking me here?" I ask her, prior to the time that I was scolded by Calvin. This was the exact place where I feel anxious, and now I feel even ten times more.

     "I'm taking you to my house," she says, "our house."

Stop saying our, I thought, yet I did not tell her. I was first here, I had it mine first.

I scan the place, I seek for resemblance. There was not a single tree or even thing that could remember me from the past. I suddenly felt like I became out dated in just one snap of a hand.

     "I asked why are you taking me here," I ask. She didn't answer my first question.

     Mrs. Dekker stopped, we stopped in another undistiguishable blue house on the cornermost part of the road. "We're here!" She exclaimed. She waved her hand to me as I follow her inside, Mrs. Dekker had a proud widespread on her arms around the house as she breathes, "welcome back!"

     She was right. It was my house. The fireplace on the side was still there, the vintage wallpaper were still placed in the walls untorn as if it was freshly placed, and there was still the arch ways through the kitchen, the kitchen were my mother cooked for the first time.

Don't cry.

Don't cry.

     I cried. I crouched on the ground, my head touching the floor. I could smell the old smell of a maple on the floor. Drop of tears forms a dark cirlce on the wood, I wipe my tears as I try not to make the wood brittle.

     "I'm home," that is all I could say. My voice was about to vanish. All I did was cry, ironically cried for happiness.

     "Dad always uses the money he got from Calvin's father to preserve this house," I can here Mrs. Dekker say, I her starting to sob too. "Dad was hoping that by the time you come back, fully grown, that even if you may not know the world outside anymore, he told me at least you can still remember your home."

     I had another batch of tears in my eyes. I balance myself back to stand up, I see things more vividly. The turning table near the couch. On top of it was a foxtrot song my dad and I used to listen. The song I have been always humming back in the alley.

     I pointed to Mrs. Dekker the turning table, "can I?" I asked and she nodded.

     "Sure." She says. "I'll wake dad up."

     I took the vinyl out of it's case and slowly opened the turning table. I slip the vinyl inside and turned it on as I start to turn and produce music. 

     Mrs. Dekker mentioned about waking my father up. Was he asleep, I wonder what he looks now, I wonder what he would feel if he sees me.

     I sat on the couch, the way I used to do when I listen to the same song. I never got sick listening to it, in fact I got sick when I didn't listen for years.

This place makes me realize that I really am human.

     "Foster," I heard at the back. I turned my head back and found Mrs. Dekker carrying an old skinny man in a wheelchair. The sound I heard a while a go was not Mrs. Dekker's. "Foster I'm sorry."

     "Father," I say, close to whisper. I stood up from the couch and walked right infront of him.

     "He repeats the same words all the time after I told him about Calvin bringing a boy named Foster, then he cries after, after what he did to you" she says, "I never knew my brothers name until he mentioned your name."

     "Foster, I'm sorry." I hear him say again. It felt like. I was stabbed five times for every word I hear from him, and also when I see him in a wheelchair, paralyzed.

     "You remind me of him," she says, "his naivety, his way of speaking, and his eyes. You have these peculiar grey eyes, that switches in every angle and light like his."

     I look back at Mrs. Dekker, or I should say my younger sister whom I have never met. She looks back at me like she was already expecting a question - and so I gave her.

     "Can I see my room?"

     Mrs. Dekker led me to my old room, it was on the top most area of the house, where we have to cross above with a ladder. She asked me not to come with her since she can hardly climb on the ladder and added that she has age issues.

     My room, was beautiful. It was messy, antique, but beautiful. The things I left was still on the same place, like the hair brush that was still placed on my bed. The last time I used it was on my sixth birthday, my mother told me to ready myself so I brushed my hair.

     The walls still has this crumpy brownish stain on the corner, my bed was still in the middle, and what caught me the most was my book shelf.

     I scanned the books I have read, before TKAMB, there were books written by my father for me that I carefully placed on my shelf. And also one book caught my eye and killed my curiosity.

     I slid my hand out with the book in my finger. I saw the book entitled Rapunzel. It was my favorite book, my father used to read this all night and I would never dare to sleep until he's done.

     After scanning the whole place, I quickly climbed down into the ladder and found Mrs. Dekker still there.

     "Please give me an alome time," I say, "please?" It was still awkward, it was more awkward when it feels like she's tourine.in my own house.

     Mrs. Dekker nodded, "sure, roam around if you want." She then left and went downstairs.

     Now I really am alone. Up stairs was still as preserved as downstairs. There was a small hall that connects the second bathroom, my parents' room and the extra room on the tippest part of the hall.

     The door from the extra room was ajar. I never saw how it looked like because it was always closed.

Not until now.

     As I got inside the room it felt like I just entered another world, it feels like I just came back from the future. The walls are  painted black and golden brown, the furnitures are made of steel, and the bed was modernalized. Everything was modernalized.

     I assume it's Mrs. Dekker's room, because the walls were filled with different sizes of picture frames with her faces on them. I look at them and saw a picture of her holding a boquet of tulips in a white laced dress, beside her is a man wearing a tuxedo who, and both of them looked so happy.

     Finally I found a wooden bookshelf on the corner, when I walked near on it to scan the books I found a stack of black rectangular cases piled instead. I try to read the labels in horizontal, 'wedding day,' 'wedding anniversary' and other that are labeled in relating to their wedding. I thought that was all until I found an isolated colour red case on the left most corner of the shelf. I read it while my eyes sharpen as I struggle to read the small font.

     "Tracy Harrison," I whisper as I read what is written. That's all that is placed. I felt bothered and confused, why would she use Tracy's name in naming her tapes?