The Path

The path between the houses was overgrown now. There were dozens of words one could use to describe it, sorrowful, dejected, downcast, melancholy, forlorn, but it was just sad. You can use pretty words, make it sound eloquent and poetic, but in the end it was as simple as those three letters. We all come into this world sad and screaming. Some of us scream our whole lives right up until the very end, but sometimes we just fade, like a once well worn path between two houses. Two kids formed that path, they met by chance, bonded by accident, and were torn apart by fate. One screamed at the world, while the other just quietly watched it turn.

There was nothing extraordinary about the first time they saw each other, there never really is. It’s never like the movies and books, a magical moment where a spotlight shines and you can see nothing but them, your breath catches and your heart begins to flutter. Really, you barely notice it at all. It happens later, when you look back on your life and all the moments that brought you to where you are now, that’s when you realize that day wasn’t just a normal day. The day when a little girl looked out her window and saw a little boy sitting on his back porch, shivering and watching the clouds. The day a little boy looked up after being banished to the backyard and caught a little girl watching him from her window, eyes wide and curious. That day was extraordinary, they just didn’t know it yet.

Two weeks passed between that moment and the first time he got to speak to her. Every time his father would banish him to the porch he would look up, hoping to see the girl in the window again. Sometimes she was there and she would catch sight of him through the glass, her eyebrows scrunching together. She always thought he was silly for forgetting to put a coat on so often, she didn’t understand adults could be so unkind yet. He would just watch her, in that unashamed way children stared at something they were curious about. When she asked her mother about the boy next door, her mom just said that he was a troubled boy and could probably use a friend. She didn’t understand what that meant, maybe if he could remember to wear his coat, he wouldn’t be in trouble so much.

He was pressed against the wall, trying to be invisible as his parents yelled at each other. The sound hurt his ears as he curled up and covered them. He didn’t mean to cry, didn’t mean to draw his fathers attention. His father grabbed him, dragging him up by the shirt. He slammed his eyes shut but it was too late, his father had seen his tears. He shouldn’t be so weak, he knew better. He got shoved out the back door, stumbling through the cool air and almost tumbling down the stairs. He pulled himself up, sitting down and wrapping his arms around his knees, burying his face into them to try to stop crying. A small voice floated over to him, telling the story of Peter Pan, fighting Hook in Neverland.

She was told to go play outside, her mom thought some fresh air would do her some good. Standing in her backyard, she didn’t know what to do. She sat with her back pressed against the trunk of the tree that grew beside her bedroom window, combing her dolls hair. Yelling from the house that sat behind hers made her look up, across the backyards, to the small blue house the boy lived in. Maybe they were having a party. She finally gave in and grabbed her book, bored with the doll. Sitting the doll beside her, she began to read the story to it, only glancing up to see the little boy tripping as he came out to the porch. He seemed upset and she knew her brother, Robby, hated when people saw him upset so she turned back to her book, continuing to tell her doll about how Peter Pan defeated Captain Hook.

“I like that story,” a soft voice caught her ear.

She looked up to see the boy had moved, he was sitting on the grass, closer to her yard now. Her cheeks flushed as she realized he had been listening to her read, but he had liked it. He smiled at her and she looked down, examining a piece of grass that she was winding through her fingers. She liked his smile, it made her stomach flutter but she couldn’t say that, he would probably tease her.

“The movie was better, though,” he said and her head snapped back up.

He laughed at her wide eyes, pulling the grass in front of him up from the ground piece by piece. He didn’t actually think that, he liked the story book just as much as he liked the movie, he just wanted her to look at him again. He liked her eyes, they were pretty and he just wanted them to look at him forever, but he couldn’t say that, she would probably laugh. He stood up, debating on crossing the boundary and going over to her.

“I think the book is better,” she said in a haughty tone, making him shrug.

“Ok,” he said, “I’m Theodore.”

“You don’t look like a ‘Theodore’,” she said, examining him up and down, she hated when people didn’t fit their names.

“Well, what do I look like?” he asked, taking a step closer to her yard.

“I’m going to call you Teddy,” she said, matter-of-factly.

“Like the bear?” he groaned, scrunching his nose up.

“Exactly!” she laughed and he couldn’t bring himself to be mad about it, “I’m Stazia.”

“Zatia?” he attempted to repeat to her.

“Stazia!” she said, stressing the ‘st’ and ‘z’ sounds.

“Zazia,” he said confidently.

“ST! Like stop,” she said with a giggle.

“I’m going to just call you Zazie,” he said and she sighed.

“Close enough,” she muttered, her heart was glowing though because no one had ever given her a nickname before, “Do you want to play with me?”

Teddy glanced back at his house, they just always said to go outside, they never said he had to stay in his yard. He would be able to hear his dad coming outside from her yard. If he was scolded he could just say she needed help or something and that’s why he went over there. When he looked back she was watching him, waiting. He nodded and jogged across the unruly space that both their parents ignored because ”it’s not our property”.

“I’ll be Peter Pan and you can be Wendy!” he said, his head held high and his hands on his hips

“We’ll have so many adventures!” Zazie laughed, grabbing his hand and pulling him beneath the leaves of the tree.

As the kids fought imaginary pirates and spoke to lost boys who weren’t actually there, something happened that neither of them noticed. It would take years for them to realize and even longer for either of them to admit. He wouldn’t recognize it in her eyes because he never saw it directed toward him before. She would miss it in his smiles because that’s not how it’s expressed in her books. There would be no grand gestures, no sudden proclamations, no ”ah-ha!" moment when they met each other’s gaze because it had already happened, when they were 8 years old. They fell in love while playing Peter and Wendy, it just took them growing up to realize it wasn’t pretend.