Wander Dust - Book 1

Chapter 3 - Disappear

::3::

Disappear

His eyes sparkle green, the color of a deep tropical ocean. A thick fringe of dark lashes surrounds them. His face pulls at me, even though I don’t know who he is. He’s beautiful on so many levels that I wonder if the picture is part of a dream, one infinitely better than the one I was having.

I stare at his face and see kindness. A charming grin stretches across his square jaw, abruptly ending at a dimple. One so small, I have to squint to see it. His hair is a disheveled chocolate brown, and there’s a certain air of confidence in his posture. A confidence that far exceeds his age, which appears similar to my own. 

I flip over the photo. There’s no name, date, or any other inscription, so I tip over the envelope. Nothing further falls out. It’s just a picture of a boy, one that instantly makes me want to know him.

I slide my finger down one edge of the photo. It’s been trimmed from a larger photo. As far as I can tell, there’s an arm of another boy draped across his shoulders. However, I’m just as unsure about why the two have been separated as I am about having received only this piece of the photo. 

As perplexing as the photo is, I look at him for hours because I realize when I do, I feel safe. He helps me to forget about the Lady in Black and every other inexplainable thing that’s happened. Even though I’m unsure who’s sent it to me, what their reason, or if I will ever meet the boy, I’m grateful for the strange peace he brings me. 

•

Ray comes home, and I’m still lying on the couch, cocooned in a blanket, slipping in and out of consciousness. 

“So what’s this?” He grabs the envelope from the coffee table and waves it in the air. 

I sit up and yawn. “Oh, ah…” I stumble over my words. I can hardly tell Ray about a picture of a boy when I have no idea who he is. “An invitation for a holiday party,” I lie.

“Oh, looks fancy,” he says and tosses it back on the table. “But remember, you’re grounded.” 

“I know, Dad.” I throw my head back and roll my eyes.

“Just want to make sure you remember.” 

How could I forget? 

After making a pit stop in the kitchen for coffee, Ray meanders to his office. He stays there all day, working. I stay on the couch, taking advantage of the fact that I’m able to sleep peacefully. 

•

Another week slips by uneventfully. I go to school, come home, do my homework, sleep, and get up and do it all over again. On Saturday, I rehang my curtain and manage to talk Ray into allowing me to return to practicing with my band members, despite the fact that I’m still grounded in every other way. 

When school starts on Monday, I’m feeling pretty good. As flaky as it sounds, I acknowledge that the boy’s photo might, somehow, be keeping me sane. Nothing out of the ordinary has happened since it appeared. 

I manage not to peek at the photo all day, but by my fifth period government class, I can’t help myself. I slip it from my pocket, just far enough to see his smiling eyes. Crushing on boys you see on TV is okay, so this is reasonable, too. Right? 

Mr. LaSalle walks past toward the blackboard, his pants leg brushing against my desk. I quickly return the photo to my pocket, cross my leg, lodging my foot on my knee, and begin doodling on my Chucks. 

The teacher paces in front of the classroom. His arms gesture with animation as he babbles about government structures. He calls on several students, awakening them out of their glassy-eyed daydreams, and finally his attention turns to me.