The Catalyst

The neighborhood trees blew lightly, the sun was warm, the air was clear, and the walk to school wasn’t as usual as a Monday morning; Benji wore jeans he bought Saturday at the mall, and decided to wear his favorite blue ball cap to school; before anything, he ate an apple, and drank three bottles of cold water, then made oatmeal and added apple slices with a nice pulp orange juice his mother bought Sunday afternoon. When he walked out of the house, his father sat in his office in the middle room with the door locked; his mother was in the bathroom and could be heard crying with the door locked. Last night, Benji’s parents argued for nearly three hours - and Benji only heard half of the argument. After Benji noticed the house went quiet he suddenly felt the courage to clean his room while both his parents sat on opposite sides of the house. Before leaving for school, he washed the dishes with careful necessity and vacuumed his bedroom before putting his laundry in the washing machine. Of course, sweeping the glass off the floor of the kitchen. Then feeding the dog. He looked in his closet to make sure he wouldn’t forget anything, Benji saw his black hoodie on one hanger; motioning himself to leave it be - once he set the backpack on his shoulder he right away felt afraid, then decided to take the hoodie and stuff it in the deepest pocket of his backpack. He goes and tries knocking carefully to tell his mom he’s leaving but only hears a slight sigh, he tries knocking on his dad’s office but only hears a dull ‘okay’ from the other side. It kinda is peaceful when they’re quiet, Benji thought neatly.

The first bell for class had rang. He sat down at his desk in the first period and took out his notebook without struggle; his jeans didn’t tighten as he bent down to search through his backpack. He was relieved to have his pencil sharpened, and looking across at the daily board where the teacher writes homework, she ended up writing ‘no homework. Have a nice Monday.’

In the second period, he noticed he didn’t struggle reading math problems or focusing on the teacher talking about algebra; and again, no homework was due. He held his blue cap with effect and set it in front of the desk; he liked the light blue compared to his white t-shirt; and if he wanted to wear any of the clothes his mother bought him, he would need at least black pairs of jeans instead of blue. In the third and fourth classes, he developed the courage to seek work groups and learn to use his textbook sparingly. At lunch, his friends and he sat at the park. Since they are seniors, the park they go to isn’t a long walk, and they can get back to class just enough in time for attendance.

“Big deal!” Benji said. “I’m staying home.”

“What about Saturday, can we pick you up then? I asked Trevor if he could drive us.”

Trevor, who sat next to Benji on the right, said, as though the idea just came in, “Natalie will be there, bro! Have you guys talked?”

Trevor, with nine years of special-ed experience, had parents who rarely let him use the truck.

“It’s a deal guys, It’s over between me and Natalie.” Benji felt a slight irritability and looked over at the trees to remain sterile, then looked back and nodded. Looking at Trevor, “She’s all yours, dude.”

Trevor chuckled nervously and said nothing.

“Then come with us. Afterward, we’re planning to eat and head over to the park at the college.”

“Like I said,” Benji said softly, now looking at James, his other friend, “Like I said, I’m sleeping in with this one. I honestly just want to chill.”

“Fine,” James said, clearly using the word with three years of friendship. Leaning behind Benji to look at Trevor, “Text Jacob and Robert Benji are not coming. Tell them we’ll pick them up at 5.” Trevor nodded.

Looking across at the trees and the grass flowing like small waves in the wind, Benji realized and thought, that’s was so easy for me to say - I really said it without thinking about them, or her. He knew this feeling well, whenever he spoke the truth he suddenly became aware of his surroundings, and when the thought came of how conscious he was about it he was, alone, settling within himself, not at all afraid. Looking at his friends without saying anything - he wondered now if this feeling was what it’s like to be happy, maybe rare for someone my age, he thought proudly. A few minutes later the bell rang, and Benji and his friends took their time walking back. Trevor, while getting ready to walk into his next class, asked “Hey, Benji. Can I have my cap back?”

“Oh - yes, sure, dude. Thanks for letting me borrow it,” Benji said. Hesitating, he tossed the cap as gently as he could.

“Thanks. My dad’s been asking for it.”

Benji turned around and walked inside the science building, his friends, meanwhile, walked together towards the main building of campus; His frizzy hair was exposed as the last air of wind came when opening the second door to the building.

When the time came to do another group assignment a slight unease leveled with the time, and Benji understood why, once he couldn’t compete against one part, his hair, feeling he now looked unfinished, he rethought how he looked all along throughout the day. He managed by taking out the black hoodie he had and felt safe wearing it throughout the period. He tried talking himself into taking it off after but guarded himself against the panic of suddenly seeing what he looked like in the mirror, as though the hoodie projected a signal to change the reflection of the glass, which would then alter the way he always looked, or how he always stayed looking the same. Something always seemed out of place whenever the school just hovered over him, he then prepared what would be needed next to finish the last two periods of the day.

The bell rang for the next class and Benji had to walk across campus to arrive at the old building where History Class was set, taking one step outside; however, the sun was warm and before managing a good rhythm in his walk, the heat began filling up in his arms and back. His backpack weighed more on this heat, Benji thought of holding it but fear settled quickly inside his thoughts and so he refused. He was halfway across when the bitterness of sweat came into his consciousness, and for a minute, he thought, “If I can’t make It across one campus, then what would happen if I can’t make it across life.” Taking off the hoodie, now moist from his back, he straightened his hair as best he could and walked into the building feeling relieved, but now his arms were exposed, and before looking where to line up on the wall for class - looking in the half darkness where faces of his peers glanced effortless in his direction, he saw his reflection on a glass window on a door across from his class. Pushing himself to walk down to line up at the end, he covered his arms and pecked his shirt out, afraid now he must not trip or fall on the ground. He kept quiet throughout the rest of the day, and remained timid when he just realized the next class had an essay due the day; he managed only a full page of words while sitting in this class and rightfully felt depressed. When the bell rang he got up and went into the restroom to cry for nearly an hour, costing a tardy to be written and a zero to be graded on his essay. “You stop this nonsense,” Benji said to himself. “It’s time to get going.”

It was clear once the last bell rang that, as Benji forward himself to wrap the black hoodie around his waist, now being fairly embarrassed, not proud he thought today was smooth until the end, he was now cautious to walk back home remembering vividly that this morning was tense, and wondered if his mom was out renting a motel room, or his father somewhere at his parents.

The sidewalk he looked at, remembering where he walked to get home to school, then to school to home, at this point becoming muscle memory.

His house was down the street and he prepared his mind by taking out his keys and holding them until he made it to the front door. He stabbed the key inside and twisted one way to check, another way to confirm, once he was able to distinguish what direction to unlock, he stuffed the key back in his pocket, lifted one hand, and before being able to grab the handle the door immediately opened on its own.

“Hey, there. You must be Emma’s son.”

“Hello? Who are you?”

A lady, half brown and lightly brown hair( a wedding ring on her finger, Benji noticed) looked behind her and said, as more people waited inside the living room, “Josh, can you tell Emma her son is here.” A guy, who, by walking through the front door, Benji hadn’t recognized; he was fairly tall, a little sterile, and wore a black cap with sunglasses; holding a beer can and a plate of chips. Benji came into the living room and saw more women hanging out, and they all turned to look at Benji, meanwhile, the lady that Benji first spoke to closed the door behind him.

“Hey, sweetie,” his mother called out. “Everyone, this is my favorite baby boy. He grows so fast.”

“What a handsome boy,” one lady said, and all the women around laughed.

Looking into the expressions of people, as if Mother had spoken this same sentence over and over, thus indicating they’ve been here probably for a while, Benji quickly marched around the couches and began walking upstairs. “Oh, don’t worry about him, girls. It’s best to leave boys to themselves,” his mother said happily, taking a sip of her wineglass as the women, as they sat around together, began talking about gossip, work, and morality. His mother sat with them and was able to sell a smile.

Benji indicated his father was somewhere living in a motel room until things cooled off. Walking to the middle room, it was cold and gray. The hallway to his bedroom was dark, and looking behind he could hear another burst of laughter coming from downstairs. The door to his bedroom was open and once he threw his backpack under the bed, he quickly closed the door and locked it. Sitting at his closet door, he set his black hoodie on the floor and remained quiet until the evening came, and the sound of laughter finally drained from the house.

After the house went quiet and the sound of his mother’s crying resumed as she slept on the couch downstairs - Benji knew homework was the best place to focus and began his essay. The house, the rooms, the living room - by midnight, it all became quiet. Benji then kept the door locked until morning. Then remembered with horror: I bet dishes need to be washed - it’s best to have it done now so it won’t wait for me in the morning.