Running

Time ticks away at the clock and yet you never glance over at it while reading this. You obliviously, carelessly sit with this story sprawled in front of you. If you are wondering, I am not here to malevontly insult and punish you, but to warn you. And I will do so by using the words of someone wiser than I: "Water can never be created or destroyed. And yet it changes shape, and slips through the fingers of anyone trying to tame it. Time is similar: with the small exception that time, unlike water, is running out."

 

I edge of my thigh brushes a leaf and the shaft of the spindly branch lets out a low groan. I pretend nothing happened and jump to the next branch, but I can almost feel Michael’s eyes angrily burning into mine from the back of his head. He jumps from the extended arm of the branch and lands silently on the shaft of the biggest branch on the next tree. I try my best to keep up, calling out to him telepathically. Of course, he doesn’t get my message. All of the sudden, I slammed into his back, toppling against the tree and knocking a nearby branch into a creaking death spiral.

 “Pay attention, Anna!” I would risk whispering back, but I knew somehow that it wasn’t the time. If he had stopped mid climb, there had to be something important ahead. As if reading my thoughts, he urged me closer to the base of the branch so he could crouch on the thickest spot. I followed suit, and then followed his gaze to where it rested; on the door of a nearby camper. Light was flickering from inside the camper, and 2 people sat inside at a table. One of the people, I could see, was Doctor Stone, but the other figure was shrouded in darkness.

 “Who is it, Mike?”

 “Do you think I can see any better than you?” He spoke very hushed and with a drop of annoyance and exasperation in his consonants.  I knew not to pick a fight on this particular night, a night when I had been lucky to be allowed to join him. Or rather, tag along. I just shrugged, waiting for him to say something, but instead he just cocked his head towards the camper, trying hard to make out words. Finally, he seemed to give me a defeated look and we jumped to the next tree, climbed down and set out across the grass. When we had weaved our way through the trees separating the fields and arrived in Cornwall Field, the night was alight with people laughing and playing. We snuck around the side of the field and curved around the front of our camper, swinging open the door and rubbing our dirty feet on the “welcome” mat. Of course, Mom didn’t ask where we had been. She had well learned not to when she discovered Michael sneaking in the trees one night, and had almost knocked him out. He was letting me tag along more and more these days, and as a result his adventures were getting more and more routine and casual. There was nothing wrong with that, excluding the fact that it had been so fun when it was a special occasion. What were we even searching for? I wasn’t sure if it was an explanation for the strange and random changes in the Field, or maybe just a bit of information that would give us something to think about on those drastically boring nights. Perhaps we were just searching for something, regardless if it was good are bad, that would change everything. I wasn’t going to over-analyse it, but for now I would assume the answer was lurking in my memory and sleep on it.

 “Mike, Anna, I’m meeting up with some friends for dinner at Yearly Field. I trust you two will be okay here?”

 “Of course, mom.” Michael replied, and I nodded as she gave us both a kiss on the cheek and headed out into the midnight sky. I loved the rare occasion when my mother went out, because Michael would let me eat at the campfire. You see, Cornwall Field is famous for having a rustic campfire at 7:00 every night, and usually mom doesn’t let us eat down there. She always had some brief excuse before ushering us outside by the edge of the forest behind the camper, hidden from view. You see, it is Cornwall’s tradition that we MUST eat dinner, preferably lunch, and optionally breakfast outside.