Catch Me (Synacky)

Chapter Seven: Zacky

I began missing Dad on January 3. I had been at the institution for 24 days.

I called him every Saturday at 11:00 exactly. Once someone was using the phone and I couldn’t call him until 11:17, and I rocked and groaned and screamed at anyone who came close to me.

A fleeting thought passed through my mind that perhaps he was planning on leaving me forever, that one day I would call and he wouldn’t pick up, he’d be with that lady in with the yellow bag and they’d be in some foreign country by now, but I didn’t ask him.

I did ask him when he would visit again, and he said, “I don’t know, bud, it’s hard for me to find some time off.”

I let myself miss him for three days exactly. I did not want to wallow on something so minute as that.

During that time, I startled myself when the hand on my face came away wet. I retreated within myself, and I did not speak once. Not even to Dr. Brooks or Brian.

I had not written anything in the notebook yet. I was saving it for an idea worth writing down.

Brian was good at remembering to wear the bracelets. I knew to leave him alone when his bracelet was blue, and to offer to play astronauts with him when his bracelet was black. Johnny was fun, because he liked to play pretend. I imagine things all the time. We’re alike in many ways.

But during my three days, I didn’t play. On the third night, Brian told me he didn’t like seeing me so upset. He asked if I wanted to stay in his bed with him. I did. He said I’d have to get in my own bed before the aids came to wake everyone up. He wrapped his arms around me and I buried my face in his chest, my pet squashed between us, and I liked this better than sleeping alone.

He crooned a song in my ear. Sweet Child O’Mine, by Guns N’ Roses. I could play it on the guitar. I bet Brian could, too.

I looked up at him, right before I fell asleep. Brian smiled at me, and his lips pressed against my nose, a gesture that I didn’t quite understand, but it made me feel wonderful.

“Goodnight, Zacky.” he whispered with a yawn.

I said goodnight, and his rhythmic breathing and the lull of his heartbeat carried me off to sleep.

The next morning, I woke up to the aids waking us up. I was in my own bed. My pet was tucked under the covers at my side.

Had it all been a dream?

I could distinctly remember falling asleep with Brian. He was heading to the showers, clothes tucked under his arm. He smiled at me before he slipped out of the room.

No, I decided. It hadn’t been a dream.

Today, though, Brian whispered in my ear, “Follow me.” He held out his hand for me, and I took it gently.

“Where are we going?” I asked, watching as we passed by the cafeteria. Aids told us, “Time to head to breakfast, boys.” But Brian told him we were going to see Mr. Todd.

He was lying.

We went down a hall I had never been down before, and he opened a door that led outside.

“Let’s go play in the snow.” He said, pointing out at the piles of gleaming fluff. “It’s been forever since I got to play in the snow.”

I eyed the outside world warily. “B-But we have to eat breakfast.” I said. “It’s breakfast time.”

“Yeah, but just this once. Just for a little bit, alright?”

I shook my head, clutching my pet close to me. “We’re not supposed to.” I whispered.