Authors: Bob Bannon
Mrs. MacIntyre had changed clothes; she wore pink pajamas and a white, fluffy robe that looked two sizes too big. She was curled up in the other chair reading the newspaper.
The boys flipped through ON DEMAND movies. They were allowed to order one movie, possibly two if it didn’t get too late. The boys talked about which movies they’d seen and which movies didn’t interest them. Jonah had seen most of the major blockbusters streamed from a movie-rental website and played on their television. Eric, of course, had seen them all in theatres. Jonah had seen some old classics that his dad made him sit and watch with him that Eric had never seen, but some that Mrs. MacIntyre had.
They finally agreed on “Dragonian”, a sword and sorcery science fiction movie about a knight who had to kill a dragon, but the dragon turned out to be the knight’s younger brother put under a terrible curse. It looked bloody.
“Go change first,” Mrs. MacIntyre said. She folded the paper down. “Jonah, you can wear something of Eric’s.”
The boys raced upstairs. Eric sorted and pulled clothes out of several drawers in his dresser, making a mess of the stuff he had tried earlier to put back in. Once again, the drawers wouldn’t close.
He handed Jonah a gray pair of sweats and directed him to the bathroom, but when Jonah put them on, the sweats were, at the very least, a size too small. The shorts were okay, they were baggy enough, even though they didn’t drop all the way to his knees the way they were supposed to. The sweatshirt was a different matter; the sleeves cut off just shy of the wrist and it was tight around his chest. Eric was a good couple inches smaller than him.
“I don’t think this is going to work,” Jonah said as he walked back into the bedroom.
“Guess not,” Eric said with a giggle. He went back into the drawers and pulled out a gray t-shirt. “Here, this one’s too big on me.”
Jonah went back into the bathroom and, after a struggle with the sweatshirt, came back out much more comfortable. When he walked back into the room, Eric was searching the closet. It sounded like there was a lot of stuff in there. Finally, he emerged with a sleeping bag.
“You get the floor.” He said, and tossed Jonah the sleeping bag.
“No problem.” Jonah said, and unrolled the bag and placed it at the foot of the bed.
They went back downstairs and started the movie. About fifteen minutes in, Mrs. MacIntyre demanded to know what the movie was rated. Eric assured her it was PG-13. Later, while making popcorn, he confessed that he’d long ago disabled the parental control after his mother gave him her ATM card to run and get some cash. He figured the code would be the same, and it was, but he wouldn’t blatantly watch an R-rated movie with her in the room.
During the movie, Jonah only picked at the popcorn and hardly drank his soda, he was much too full after dinner. He had gotten downright cozy in the over-stuffed chair and was beginning to doze off by the end of the movie, even though it was pretty intense.
There was something else; he felt safe. He felt totally secure in this house. All the guards that he had up twenty-four-hours a day had melted while he was sitting in the over-stuffed chair.
As soon as the credits started to roll, Mrs. MacIntyre said “Alright, time for bed.”
“But,” Eric started.
She cut him off. “Not buts. Time for bed. Clean up your mess.”
Eric rolled off the couch, Jonah had to drag himself up. Mrs. MacIntyre snapped off the T.V. and began shutting off lights.
The boys took the popcorn and soda cans to the kitchen. Mrs. MacIntyre was waiting by the stairs when they got there. She snapped off the front hallway light and they all went upstairs. She kissed Eric on the forehead and said good night to them both, then went to her room.
Laying in the dark at the foot of the bed, Jonah stared at the ceiling fan going round and round. “Eric?” He asked in something more than a whisper.
“Yeah?” Eric responded groggily from the other side of the room.
“I don’t really have a dad,” He said quietly.
Jonah took a long, slow breath and recounted his tale. The explosion, the caves, the nest in the warehouse, the strange notes, the blanket, the food and why he had to get to Clapton. He left out miscellaneous details like hot chocolate and the glowing green gem. When he was finished, he took his eyes off the ceiling fan and looked toward the bed where Eric’s head was peering down at him.
A moment passed, and then Eric said “I don’t have any friends.” It was the first time he’d said it out loud, maybe the first time he had admitted it even to himself. Then he moved back to the head of the bed. He’d said it because he didn’t know how else to respond to Jonah’s story, so he replied with a secret of his own.
“You’re wrong,” Jonah said from his sleeping bag. He held up his fist toward the end of the bed. “You got me.” Eric moved again, pounded Jonah’s fist, and then quickly returned back to the head of the bed.
“Hey, Hell Kat?” Eric asked.
“Yeah, Danger Man,” Jonah responded.
“I can call Emma Wong if that’ll make you feel any better.”
They laughed long and they laughed hard. Each time one would subside, the other would break into a cackle and send the other reeling. It went on for some time. When it stopped, both of them were sound asleep.
XI
There was a knock on the bedroom door the next morning. Jonah sat bolt upright in the sleeping bag on the floor at the foot of the bed, shocked awake by the noise. Eric didn’t move.
“Time to get up,” Mrs. MacIntyre said as she opened the door.
Jonah had slept like a rock for the first time since losing his father. For the first time, his waking thoughts weren’t trying to judge whether pain was coming. In fact, he almost forgot where he was. He looked at Mrs. MacIntyre as he tried to process.
“Good morning,” she said to Jonah, then to Eric she added “Is everyone awake?”
Eric put one arm up in the air with his thumb up.
“Good,” she said. “Breakfast in ten.” Then she remembered. “Oh, Jonah, I washed the stuff you had on last night, since Eric had some things too. She was refolding some things Eric had jammed in his drawer and then closing the drawers. “I ran your sweater through the dryer, you know, just to freshen it up a bit.” She said pointedly. “They’re on the counter in the bathroom.”
Jonah had completely forgotten he’d changed clothes. Mrs. MacIntyre either came in late last night or early this morning and collected some clothes. Jonah had never been so far away from the green gem since the moment the house exploded. It made him panic. He jumped up, nearly tripping out of the sleeping bag, and walked a little too quickly to the bathroom.
He had nothing to worry about. There, next to his folded clothes, was his handful of change and the green gem. He sighed in relief. Then he noticed the folded clothes. He’d been balling things up and shoving them down into his backpack when he packed them, folded clothes looked odd. They reminded him of home.
He picked up the sweater and smelled it. It smelled like fabric softener. It was a nice change. He felt the t-shirt. It felt much softer than when he air dried it. He wondered if he came over wearing his other set of clothes if the same thing would happen.
Eric knocked on the open door. “Hey,” he said. “You take this bathroom. I’ll use my mom’s.”
It took Jonah a moment to register what he meant. He was actually going to get to take a shower. That was an amazing concept.
“Ten minutes,” Eric said, and walked down the hall.
Jonah closed the bathroom door.
The shower was amazing. He thought he’d never feel warm water again.
When he finally dressed, in laundered clothes, and brushed his hair, with an actual brush, he looked at himself in the mirror. He felt like a whole new man.
He opened the bathroom door just as Eric was rounding the railing to go downstairs.
“Race you,” he said and took off running.
They jostled for position down the stairs but Eric shouldered Jonah into the front hallway wall and made it to the kitchen well ahead of him.
Eric sat at the small table where they had eaten tacos the night before. Jonah took the seat in front of him.
“So how did everyone sleep?” Mrs. MacIntyre asked as she spooned out scrambled eggs onto the plates in front of them.
“Fine, mom,” Eric said.
“Just fine, thank you,” Jonah replied. There were those manners again. Mrs. MacIntyre glowed.
She ruffled her hands through Eric’s hair. “Looks like it’s time for a haircut, maybe for the both of you.” She said pointedly to Jonah. “Maybe I’ll see if Sarah can fit you both in?” She asked.
“No!” Eric commanded and brushed his hair back down into place.
Mrs. MacIntyre had replaced the pan of eggs on the stove and was coming back to the table with a plate full of toast. “I think so,” she said.
Jonah was lost in the conversation. He’d have to dodge the whole haircut conversation. There was no way he could find that much money.
“Mom makes me go to La La’s, you know, that pink place across from Castors?” Eric said.
Castors was a shoe store that sold every kind of sports shoe imaginable. Jonah remembered the hair salon directly across from it in the mall.
“Isn’t that for girls?” Jonah asked.
“Exactly,” Eric agreed.
“They cut boy’s hair too. Now eat,” she said. “Jonah you should ask your father. Maybe I can get Sarah to fit you guys in on Monday after school.”
“Um, okay. I’ll see.” Jonah said, for lack of anything better coming to mind.
“So, what’s the Saturday plan guys?” She asked as she sat down with the newspaper and coffee.
“We’re going to go hang at Jonah’s,” Eric said.
Jonah’s eggs caught in his throat as he glared at Eric, his eyes huge with surprise and anger. Eric looked at him with a shrug as if to ask “What’s the big deal?” Jonah hoped Mrs. MacIntyre wouldn’t pick up on the exchange, but she seemed intent on the newspaper.
“Oh, fun,” Mrs. MacIntyre said absently. “You’ll say hello to your father for me.”
“Sure thing,” Eric replied, since Jonah clearly couldn’t speak, but his mother missed all this.
“And Jonah will probably stay over here again, if that’s okay?” Eric asked.
Again, Jonah glared.
“Well, you know we love having you, Jonah,” she said, “but I want to make sure it’s okay, you understand. We’ll need permission this time.” She went back to her paper.
The boys cleaned up the dishes and then raced up the stairs.
Jonah neatly folded the t-shirt and sweatpants he wore last night and left them on the foot of the bed, then he rolled the sleeping bag and put it in the closet, which was stuffed with clothes and other gear. It was clear to Jonah that he had become accustomed to cleaning up before he left an area. Eric was busy tossing things into a backpack. Jonah wasn’t paying enough attention to see what any of it was.
When they walked outside, Eric headed for the garage. He opened the garage door by a keypad on the side wall. The garage was actually very well kept. There was a tool bench, with a sparse supply of items, and some rakes and brooms, and a riding mower. The car would definitely have space to fit. There was a small staircase at the back that led to the second floor on the opposite side of the stairs outside.
In the corner were two bicycles. The first was an electric blue, freestyle body shape with a low seat and raised handle bars. It was an expensive sports bike made of aluminum meant for competitive dirt-track racing. Jonah was duly impressed.
The other was almost a polar opposite. It was still an expensive piece of equipment, but it had low handlebars and a high seat. It was clearly made for road racing. You could switch gears just under the breaks on the handles. “That’s my mom’s,” Eric said. “She bought these when she was on some kind of exercise kick. That only lasted a month. You can ride it.”
“Cool.” Jonah said, adjusting the seat so he could ride it comfortably.
XII
The boys flew down the hill away from the house. Jonah learned to ride a bike when he was ten, but had never really gotten into it, having no destinations he was actually allowed to travel to. His father had set up strict boundaries around the house so he could only go about a quarter of a mile up or down the road. That gave him access to one side of forest or another. Of course he could walk around the woods in the back all he wanted, but that wasn’t really conducive to bike riding. He remembered the feeling being quite freeing and it gave him at least some sense of independence, but it quickly bored him. His bike was a very plain thing, pretty much just two wheels and a seat with no bells and whistles to speak of, quite literally. By the time he was a teenager, the bike mainly sat chained to the front porch.
He found it interesting that the old saying was true; bike riding is something you never forget. Now they began to race each other through the empty back streets. Eric would pull ahead, so Jonah worked faster and he’d take the lead. They jockeyed for position for quite a while. Jonah didn’t know how to use the gears on the bike, so he relied on his own strength to push his advantage.
When they reached the mall, Eric said they should pull in. Jonah fell back and followed. They went in the old entrance after Eric chained their bikes and were greeted with the whoosh of warm air from the vents at the entrance. Eric bought two bottles of water from a vending machine close to the doors.
“So where is your warehouse?” Eric asked, handing Jonah the first bottle of water.
“It’s just straight down Tremaine and then down Main Street and then it’s about four blocks on Third.” Jonah answered, taking a long drink from the bottle.
“That’s a good area for hiding out,” Eric commented. “Third Street is pretty much abandoned. I didn’t even know there was still anything over there.”
They went out and got back on their bikes, each bike had a holder that snapped the bottles perfectly in place.
As they rode, Eric let Jonah take the lead since afternoon traffic near Main was a little heavier. They stayed close to parked cars and curbs, but there wasn’t much opportunity to ride side by side.