Sixth

The nightmare ran through her mind on endless loop. She could see it over and over again. The bus pulled round the semi-circle and into the drive at the front of the school. The doors opened and kids piled into the aisle, others stood waiting for their chance. Laura and Jill followed the crowd of kids up the aisle to the bus door. They were still engaged in conversation when Jillian arrived at the front of the bus with Laura in tow.

Nathaniel approached the bus. Jilly was curious why he had not been on it, but it didn’t matter. Nathaniel stepped onto the first step of the bus.

He said, “Jilly… Jill, Richard’s dead.”

“What?”

“Richard’s dead.”

“What?” she whispered, “That’s sick Nathaniel! That’s not funny!”

“No, Jill – I mean it.”

Jill looked around to see the entourage of boys that surrounded him. Emotion began to well-up inside her. She drew a breath, thrust her chin into the air and said, “Oh wonderful!”

She was so angry with Nathaniel, what a sick joke – and clearly the boys were all up to something because they were all grouped around him just waiting. She drew harsh breaths and stepped forward down the step.

Laura asked, “What? What did he say?”

Jilly turned her head to answer Laura, “I don’t know. I don’t believe it.”

Jillian tromped on down the sidewalk with Laura close at hand. She refused to speak to Nathaniel. She refused to look his way. She was so angry.

Laura and Jilly stopped near the end of the fire lane where a couple of girls stopped to chat. Jilly listened as the girls made small talk and chattered about the things they had been doing over the summer or over the past few days, but Nathaniel and his entourage would not depart.

A couple more girls added into the group. One started talking about, “I called.”

“What?” asked Candy, “You did?” Candy’s soft brown waves swung around as she shot a look toward the girl.

Laura chimed in, “You did what?”

Korrin had a look of disbelief, “Wait, what happened?”

“I called his house.” The girl remarked.

Korrin squinted, “You called whose house?”

The girl responded, “I called the family. I wanted to find out if it was true.”

Laura questioned, “If what was true?”

This conversation captured Jillian’s attention, “What?”

The girl looked at her, straight in the face, “Didn’t you know?”

“Know what?” Jilly responded.

“Richard died. His family was in a car wreck. Like, all but one of the kids was killed. Didn’t you know?”

An expression of shock came over Jillian’s face, “No, well, I… Nathaniel said that but… but I thought he was just lying.”

Jilly looked away from the group of girls and grappled to hold the tears in. Never allowed to appear weak, she felt sick, absolutely sick. And she felt horrid about what she had said. How could she have said such a horrible thing?

Jilly heard Laura say to the girl, “How could you do that? How could you call the family if you knew it happened?”

Candy gasped, “Geeze Kiera, How could you do that?” then she turned her head and continued, “That’s awful.”

Korrin asked, “How did you hear about it?”

Kiera replied, “They live in my neighborhood.”

Jilly strained her neck to look at the street behind her. She looked past the group of boys that blocked her path. She could no longer hear the voices. Her fat notebook felt heavy in her arms. A weakness overcame her body. She just wanted to drop everything… and run …to run and never stop. Her mind’s eye saw her running down the sidewalk, a trip and a fall… so she tried stand still, not run.

She tried not to drop her book even though it felt suddenly heavy in her arms, and she thought about the trouble she would be in for missing the first day of school. She longed to run, just turn and run, but the crowd of boys was watching her. The weight on her chest held her down, as she hoped they could not see all the turbulence flowing through her heart and her brain. She tried not to make eye contact with anyone.

The bell rang, time had lapsed. She looked at the ground and made her way along with the crowd to the classrooms, as though she was just flowing along with them in a stream. No sense of anything nor anyone.

Once inside, there were three men standing at the head of the class. They talked. She had no idea what they said, until one of them started,

“Some of you may know, some of you may not, but we suffered a tragic loss yesterday…”

Jilly put her head down on the desk and tears flowed past her lids, no matter how hard she tried to hold them in. Every time she picked her head up she noticed a tall brunette boy staring at her. She just wished she could disappear, suddenly become thin air, and she wished he would stop looking at her.

She didn’t know how long orientation lasted, but she knew she flowed out with the crowd the same way she flowed in. As the others made their way to the bus, she wandered off from the crowd, down the sidewalk toward the highway. She walked alone. She had succeeded to escape the others, quietly, silently.

She did not look back to see if anyone was looking. She just went, and salty tears stung her face. She got home about the same time the bus did, so no one noticed. She entered the house silently, holding the door behind her so it wouldn’t make a sound, then went directly to her room.

She sobbed silently for hours. Tears streamed down her cheeks relentlessly. Laura crept through the hedge of Spirea bushes and knocked on her window. Jill went to the window and cranked it open.

Laura said, “I brought you the paper… I thought you might want it… The article is in there.”

“Yes… thank you.” Jilly whimpered as she cranked the window open and accepted the rolled newspaper from Laura.

“I’m so sorry Jillian. I feel so badly for you.” Laura spoke to her a little while longer, “Is there anything I can do?” …until she realized Jilly wasn’t hearing anything she said. “I’m gonna’ go now. I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”

Jill pulled the rubber band from the newspaper and unrolled it. She flipped it over. It was on the front page. She struggled to see through the sheets of tears. She tried to read the article, but it was impossible. She had waited for him with excruciating patience, the boy that had been the love of her life, but was no more. How could he be gone?

She sobbed in silence for hours.

A while later, Jill stepped out of her room, took a couple of steps down the hallway, stretched to set the paper on the end table and slipped back into her room, where she sobbed silently until sleep overtook her.

One evening she escaped from the house. She slipped out unnoticed. Jill walked up to the school. She wandered up the fire lane and across the playground where they had met after school.

She traced the path they had taken around the school and sat crunched up in a little ball for a while where she and Richard had sat. Thoughts came in the form of pictures in her mind. No words. She tried not to think. She tried not to cry, but both were inevitable.

She traced the path backward and wandered around under the old oak tree where he had drawn a hundred hearts that read, “Dick loves Jillian.” She ran her fingers over the bark of the oak tree and remembered the snowball fight. She leaned against the trunk of the mighty tree and tears streamed down her face. She slid down the trunk and crouched at the base. The tears had been uncontrollable for days. She was feeling like a complete lunatic, some words slipped past her lips in a thin, little whisper…

You’re so sweet, I miss you so much

I can still see your slim face

I wish I could touch you once again

I just want to feel you near me

But this time, I don’t want to be afraid

I love you so much, so much

Why did you have to go?

I need you here, I need you so

I can still see your blue eyes

And blond hair

I need you here

I don’t want you to be there…

Oh God, your sweet face

I remember touching your soft cheek

Oh God,

Come back, fill the space in my heart

Everything here is so bleak

I can still hear your kind voice

I miss your precious notes

Oh God, why did you have to go?

I need you so much

The sky had grown dim and stars began to appear in the dusky sky. There was a slight chill in the air. Jillian’s face stung from tears, and she realized that she would have to get home soon. She steadied herself against the Oak with both hands.

She stared longingly across the playground…

…past the blacktop

…past the tether-ball posts

…beyond the race track

…toward the opening that separated the walls of chain link fencing.

She wished she would see him walk through the gateway at that moment. She prayed that she could see him, his image …his movement. Jillian waited. She stared a long while at the empty space, willing him to come, …until she relinquished her will and turned her head to face the street.

Her eyes could no longer make tears, they had nearly dried on her cheeks, but still, they stung. She stared straight ahead, as she walked slowly down the fire lane at the school.

A streetlight barely illuminated the air above it or below it. She glanced to the right at the turquoise tower as she passed the water treatment plant. No other living thing seemed to be out on that lonely night.

Street lamps, sparsely spaced, lit sections of the road and sidewalk. She crossed the empty business route. No cars in sight. No one coming or going, strangely vacant. Jillian felt no urge to go home, but she had nowhere else to go. She knew that if she didn’t get home soon, her parents would be on the warpath.

She hurried along the dark roadway past the Clock Shoppe on the hill, past Starr’s bar; where no light flickered and no car was in the parking lot. She glanced down Hill Street to see a few homes with dimly lit windows, but she hurried on. Darkness had overtaken the dusk. Stars twinkled in the sky, high above.

She turned down Third Street and crossed the grassy lawn of the Home & Garden store. She noted the green house and how it reflected the light from the adjacent street lamp, almost mirror-like. She crossed the gravel driveway, and scoured the yards and homes for signs of life, but only a few lamps illuminated the windows.

No human, or dog, or even a cat was present. She crossed the street and walked up the little hill, then through the opening between the white fences of her neighbor’s yard. She crossed into the grassy front yard, inside the hedge of Spirea bushes, under the canopy of half a dozen trees, enroute to her front door.

As she approached, her eyes focused through the large, glass picture window into the living room. She scanned for signs of life. No one was in sight. No parents. No siblings, just a lamp shining in the corner of the room. Jillian preferred to enter the house without interaction, without anyone asking her a million questions, or even one.

She placed her thumb against the button on the handle of the screen door and pressed gently and slowly. It barely made a sound. She opened the screen door just far enough to slip inside and held her hand on the metal handle so that it wouldn’t slam shut. Jillian scanned the room as she entered and then turned toward the door to push the tiny bar aside. She pulled the door shut by the inside handle, then she let the tiny bar-latch slide forward. The door was latched and she walked quietly heel to toe.

She glanced through the archway of the dining room, but still no sign of any parents. She continued on the balls of her feet until she made it quietly up the hallway and into her 9’x10’ bedroom. She flipped the switch on, in her room and quietly closed the door. She locked it, pushing the button in quietly.

Once she was safely in her room, she listened for movement as she removed her clothes and slipped them into the pale green, wicker hamper that almost matched her bedspread. She pulled her pajama pants on, then pulled the button down top over her head. The pink cotton PJs felt good, just a little bit cool to the touch.

She could hear her parents talking and moving about in the basement below her. She could not make out the words, but their voices sounded calm and quiet, lucid and at ease. Jillian could hear the faint sound of the television coming from the far corner of the family room in the basement.

Her parents’ voices seemed to come from the Rec Room, somewhere near the pool table. The area of the basement below the kitchen. Jillian was somewhat relieved that her parents didn’t seem to notice how late she’d gotten in.

She turned the black nob on her radio. It was tuned to WLS, as usual. The late night host was generally pretty quiet, and just played music. That worked out just fine for Jillian. Next she walked over to her dresser, the one mother and father had purchased just for her.

It had an appearance of blonde wood, there were three drawers. The top drawer was shallow. She pulled the top drawer out just enough to see the packet of incense cones that lie near the front right corner. She grabbed the book of paper matches too. Jillian removed the top of the brass incense burner, set the cone inside, swiped the match across the striking surface, and lit the cone of incense.

She watched as it began to glow, then shook the match to put it out. She set it on a small glass disk next to the brass urn and blew gently toward the cone. The top of the cone glowed brighter, an orangy-red tone, then the smoke swirled upward.

Jillian placed the lid back on the urn. The smoke emanated through each decorative hole and filled her nostrils. She stood up, from bending over the dresser to witness the smoke swirl as it began to fill the room with the peaceful scent of sandalwood. She stepped across the room, and flipped the switch to turn the light off.

She raised her knee and set it on the bed, then slid gently across it. In the darkness, she closed her eyes and rested her lids softly then squeezed them tight to push out unpleasant thoughts and images. She lay there quietly, her mind a blank until she didn’t hear or see anything, and she was aware of nothing.

“We live on the land along the Luna Sea”

Ecivres Ardnas 1975