A Story of Stone

Part I

Roy Durand sometimes wished he wasn't himself. He wished he wasn't so shy, so nerdy. Maybe if Roy wasn't born so smart, he wouldn't have so many bruises. Maybe he wouldn't constantly have to make up an excuse to his dad and stepmom every time his books were ruined by toilet water. Maybe if Roy had some kind of power to stop the bullies, they would leave him alone. But Roy was the opposite of powerful: he was weak. He was a measly five feet two inches tall, and only eighty pounds. It was almost like he was born to get beat up.

"ROY! I'M NOT TELLING YOU AGAIN! GET YOUR BUTT OVER HERE AND EAT YOUR DINNER!" an angry voice shouted from his house. Roy sighed, kicked the Mississippi one more time, and ran back to his home. Home. What a funny word. The place where he resided certainly didn't feel much like home. It was a good day if his "mother" only yelled at him twice an hour. His father was fine, but he was gone most of the day for work at a wealthy business in a wealthy city, Davenport. Davenport was completely different from sleepy old Le Claire, the small town in Iowa that Roy had lived all his life. Though Davenport was only a few minutes away, his father spent nearly all his time there.

As Roy walked up the back porch steps, his mother grabbed him by the ear and dragged him inside, beginning another one of her long lectures about obeying her every word. He dutifully said his "yes ma'am" when necessary, until he was finally allowed to eat. He ate only a few bites, then asked to be excused. His two older sisters and younger halfbrother were still eating. His mother rolled her eyes. She told him to do the dishes, and then come back in. He wasn't allowed to sit alone in his room with a book, but had to socialize with his family.

Roy bit his lip to keep back something vicious from shooting from his mouth, and left to do the chore. At least he could be alone while he did that. There wasn't much in this world better than being alone. Maybe at the river, or maybe in his bed with a book. As long as there was no one to waste energy on talking to, Roy could be comfortable anywhere, really. If only...

"Hey Roy! Didja bring me back anythin' from the river?" His eight-year-old halfbrother had decided to break Roy's peace and bother him at the dishes. But Roy loved the kid, so he forced the anger and frustration down, and put a smile on his unwilling face.

"Not today, Will. Maybe tomorrow." Will's face fell, but it picked itself right back up.

"Okay! Thanks, Roy," he said, and then ran off, probably to do his own chores. Roy smiled, appreciative that there was at least one person in this house that cared about him. Of course, his father probably did too, as well as his sisters. But for the most part, they just ignored each other. Roy was fine with that. The more people that ignored him, the better.

***

It was finally Saturday. Today, he didn't have to endure endless teasing, teachers trying to teach him stuff he already knew, or even tolerate his siblings. Today wasn't a normal Saturday, though, as his siblings and his mother had gone to Davenport. Roy had intentionally stayed behind, and his mother, sighing gratefully, allowed it.

Roy couldn't wait. A whole day all to himself. Of course Roy went straight to the river. The cool water felt incredible. He sat in only his shorts on the bank, his legs resting in the water. The current got incredibly strong a few feet in, so he never went deeper than the bank.

Roy loved the river. It felt much more like his home than where he lived. The river didn't speak. The river didn't hurt or annoy him. Sometimes, the river even gave him gifts. Bits and pieces of discarded items that floated downstream often ended up in his private collection, or sometimes in the pudgy hands of Will. One person's trash was truly his treasure.

Roy didn't know why he kept the items. Most of them had no practical value, and it was against his character to keep anything purely to keep it. He did enjoy seeing the delight on little Will's face when he gave him something though. Maybe that had something to do with it.