Green Hands

Dandelions

Phil was wondering how this boy managed to be sitting next to him in the backyard of 12 French Crescent on an old picnic blanket picking at the long green grass in front of him.

"How is your hand," he asked, looking over at Phil's hand.

"Well, it's had better days," Phil said, also looking at his hand, still wrapped in the green cast. They both chuckled.

"Oh, I forgot," the boy pulled something out of the ground in the other direction, Phil couldn't see what he was up to, "Phil Lester," the boy turned around with a dandelion, "I would like to make a wish, and although some dreams never come true, I am ever so glad, to have finally met you." He blew away the little dandelion seeds and threw the stem behind him,

"Um," Phil was so confused, what was he up to? "What was that?" It sounded like something you'd say on a date.

"A wish," the boy said, he looked proud of himself. "A wish that will bring our lives closer and bring good luck to the rest of them." Phil was even more confused now than before.

"Why?"

"Well, don't you want good luck?" It was like he was avoiding the question.

"No, I meant the 'our lives' part."

The boy looked down at the ground, his face was pink.

"Well, I..." He started to mumble and his words were fading away.

"Please speak louder, I can't hear you." The boy took a deep breath in and lifted his head. His hand crept around Phil's neck and over his eyes, he could feel the boy's breath on his ear.

"Good luck," the boy said. Once Phil could see again, the boy was gone.