A young boy crept stealthily down the stairs in only boxer shorts and a baseball cap. He pulled the hat down over his eyes to give him more of a shield so he wouldn’t be seen. That and so he would look more like a mysterious detective or FBI Agent. It was his haven, his protector. No boogeyman or burglar could touch him as long as the cap was on his small head.
It had been his father’s hat. He cherished it more than anything he owned. Well, it and a picture frame that his close friend Grace had made him holding their picture. His mother had wanted him to throw out the hat ever since the day he had found it under the couch, but he had never obeyed. It stayed on the foot post of his bed when it was not being worn, safe and familiar there. His father wasn’t around anymore, so when his yearning for a dad became very evident he would just place the cap on the top of his head, and the boy would feel as if he were receiving one giant hug from him. The welcoming scent of his father had long since faded, but it didn’t matter. He loved that hat and took it everywhere he went.
As he descended the stairs, pieces of conversation floated to his ears. It was his mother’s voice.
“It still hasn’t come.”
“The letter?”
“Of course.” She began to pace the kitchen unsteadily. “I have a very bad feeling.”
“Lacey, I hate to say this, I really do--- but magic doesn’t make mistakes.” She heard a soft, sarcastic snort. “Hogwarts doesn’t make mistakes. I would think that, on the extremely rare occasion that they actually are late, they would have contacted you by some way by now.”
The boy searched the kitchen to where the other voice was coming from and found it in his mother’s hands. She was gripping their cordless telephone so tight that he could see from many feet away that all of the blood was gone from her fingers. She remained quiet.
“Oh, Lacey ... You know that I didn’t mean anything by---”
“No, I know. I just don’t know what to do about it. John and I--- we’d been planning for Hogwarts before he left. That dream still hasn’t faltered for me. I just want my son to be happy.”
“I’m sure that he will be happy no matter where he is. As long as he has his family.”
“I suppose that’s true. But he knows of magic. What now? How do I tell a son that has been waiting his whole life to study magic that he’s not going to go to a school to learn it? That he’s not ever going to have a wand, have magical powers. He’s just going to be a regular, normal person in this big world we live in? That wasn’t my plan. A Squib? My son?”
Silence followed. The receiver was transferred off speakerphone and placed back next to the caller’s ear and the boy felt it time to leave. He wondered whom she could be talking about. She knew whom to: Grace’s mother.
“I accept it, I just can’t believe it.”
He didn’t feel so thirsty anymore.
~*~
The place was quiet, deathlike. A lone, decrepit shack in the middle of the woods that no one dared go in would be just that, but the stillness that was usually captured here and only disturbed by wandering squirrels and mice was being challenged. The chatter of the two children carefully bringing forth wood and the proper utensils to construct their new playhouse was very apparent, and even the mice, usually beings that were scared by any sudden movement or noise, gathered around in the nearest tree to see the excitement. This was not normal. No one went into these woods; no one sought after anything between these tall trees. Certainly no one knew of these children’s whereabouts or their heads would whirl by how fast they would be thrust out. The place was cursed.
This was where the Muggles had been killed.
The trees and landscape that covered this once-lively place was usually encompassed in quiet and solitude. The local people that still knew the story hung their heads in fear and did not allow their children to venture onward into such a place. It was not a tale that was told often: it wasn’t even spoken of in the small town. The trees inside those woods were different. The animals there behaved oddly. It was as if some unnatural force or being accompanied the nature within the forest’s walls. Thirteen unnatural forces or beings. Of course, those were just rumors.
It was noted that Sirius Black had brutally killed thirteen Muggles here before this place had overgrown with weeds. What most of the remaining witches and wizards didn’t know was that Peter Pettigrew had actually been that murderer and had framed Black for his own gain. It had been Black to do the time, and it had been Black to die by one of the hands that Pettigrew served.
The clouds were dark and ominous, promising rain, but the locals knew that they wouldn’t see a drop of water. There had been a drought here for the past seven years. Every time it would begin to grow dark during midday, folks wouldn’t even pretend to be eager. They knew that the rain was just promising something that it couldn’t promise--- it didn’t matter how much they needed it, how much the grass needed it. The water tower was close to empty itself, and that had never happened. The ground was a charcoal brown. They hadn’t seen healthy, green grass in years. The cattle and other livestock were constantly thirsty and were only given what was needed to survive. The sky was just dead--- at least, that’s what the little kids were saying. The heavens could give a roasting sun but it could not provide rainfall.
The two children were inseparable. They had gone to pre-school together ever since they could remember. In their kindergarten days they had always played together, and done so as if no one else even existed. Sharing with the occasional classmate started no argument, sure, but only when they were alone and together did they reveal their true, vast imaginations. There had been countless giggles, teasings, whispers, and games shared between the two. Grace had sometimes done things during school that some of the teachers could not understand. She could levitate the blocks and stuffed animals. She could change the color of her shirt if it didn’t suit her fancy. She could pinch one of her enemies if she didn’t like them, except somehow she had been all the way across the room once the finger was pointed at her.
Josiah had always found her abilities amusing, and while he had yet to reveal any of his own, his mother passed him off as a late bloomer. She yearned that he would soon start exhibiting and sharing his own part of the magical world with the rest of the community he lived in now. Josiah’s father had abandoned the family when Josiah’s mother was pregnant, and while his mother resented him greatly for it Josiah knew that his father must have had a great reason for his departure. But he hadn’t. Josiah was merely too young to comprehend the motive his father had retained the day he’d left. But he didn’t like to speak of it. Only with Grace, and that was if she brought it up.
With Grace’s stunning and innocent appearance, many said she would be an absolute beauty when she grew up. Josiah thought her to be the prettiest thing he had ever laid eyes on. Between those naive blue eyes, iridescent blonde hair, and distinguished personality, Grace was one of the most well behaved children on her block. Occasionally she would catch a fire in her eyes, but only if something incredibly horrid had been done to her, and even then apologies were given after the ordeal. But not many could make her that angry.
Because Grace’s parents and Josiah’s mother were such good friends as well, they looked forward to the day that they would share accompanying their brood to Diagon Alley to buy things for their own days at Hogwarts. They’d receive their letters in the same month and they’d go shopping together to retrieve their things. Everyone won.
As the two children now worked together to build a clubhouse, the back of their minds told them that their days together at home were numbered. Rather, they would be going, together, to a school far away from their homes and parents. They had been informed that it was to a school for enhancing their abilities, but if it meant they had to leave their parents for a long period of time, or each other at all, they didn’t want any part in it. However, neither had a say in what they did with their life. They were only eleven after all.
Yet, Grace’s mother and father had told her that Josiah would be able to accompany her on the journey to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. That lifted her spirits quite a bit, but being away from her family for a full school year was just something that she didn’t think she could carry out. Josiah and Grace’s family both had had a Wizard or Witch in every single generation of their families for the past two hundred years. There was every possibility going for Josiah that he would receive a letter as well. It was bizarre that he had yet to display any special abilities, but it wasn’t unheard of.
“Let’s take a break,” Grace said all of a sudden, catching Josiah with an aged hammer raised high in two hands. He confidently placed the lumber upright and positioned another directly underneath it to strengthen the entire board, then hastily pounded a nail into the wood against the rotting shelter. He pressed on it gently to ensure that it wouldn’t collapse.
“Wait up!” he called, slipping on the sandal that had come off while carrying the wood. He just left it there and glided off the other. Picking his baseball cap off the ground and resting it back on his skull, he ran to follow her. He liked the feel of the soggy twigs and wet, squishy mud between his toes as he ran to catch up with his friend. His brown hair flew behind him, clearing it out of his face for the moment. His cheeks were rosy due to their hard work and the great heat. His pale skin had suntanned greatly in the scorching temperature; he now had tan lines where the sleeves of his shirt and shorts cut off.
He heard a deafening scream from up ahead.
“Grace!” he yelled, scrambling to pick himself off the ground. “Grace!” One shoe was missing but he didn’t even realize it. He darted through the trees, receiving many a scratch from the stray sticks that prodded and poked at him as he attempted to find her. “GRACE!” he yelled, his eyes rushing in every direction, his blood surging through his heart and temples as if he were a wild animal searching for prey.
“Over here!” she yelled. Josiah could hear her giggling in spite of the joke. He stomped furiously her way about a hundred feet in front of him. She was swinging on a taut and braided rope that was now lobbing back and forth across their swimming hole. It had fallen shallow because of the drought. He saw Grace release her grip and she descended with a grand splash into the water, her eyes closing and mouth sealing shut as she went feet first into its depths.
When she finally rose out of the silky stream, her hair shining despite the brown tint of the water, Josiah’s eyes narrowed and he crossed his arms. “You scared me.” He spoke it incredibly softly, as if he were the shy one and not Grace. She instantly felt repentant.
“I’m sorry, Jo,” she said quietly, her own eyes darting away from him as if looking set her eyes on fire. “I just swung off the rope and I didn’t think.”
“Well, what if someone hears us?” he asked as she slowly placed her arms into the water, making a breaststroke toward him and stepping out of the pond, sitting on the dirt ground in her dripping clothes. She shivered despite the warm summer weather. “You know we’ll get into trouble. And the ghosts will hear us. Do you remember the last time? When they---”
“Yes! Yes, I remember!” she said fearfully, her eyes wide. “Please don’t make me remember, Jo, I don’t want to.” She placed her clammy hands over her ears and began to sing for a moment to rid her ears of sound. She finally looked up at him again after a few seconds. “Please, Jo, please don’t tell me the story again. I know we use it for ghost stories, but not while we’re actually in here,” she whispered, pointing to the land in front of them.
“It’s okay. I’m not.” He adjusted the baseball cap atop his head and smiled at her. “You’re my best friend! I wouldn’t dare scare you, Grace.”
~*~
“Happy birthday to you!” Grace’s mother, father, and little sister finished off, proclaiming their excitement with the tones of their voices and the ecstatic clapping of their hands. Grace’s sister, Prudence, immediately ran forth and hugged Grace, then toppled into her chair, licking her lips at the sight of the impeccable cake. It was chocolate, Grace’s favorite, with white icing, and in purple, fancy letters stated, ‘Happy Birthday Grace!’ on the top of it. Her mouth formed a huge ‘O’ as it was brought into the room and Prudence sang another chorus of ‘Happy Birthday’. Grace wiggled in her chair impatiently as it was set down in front of her. As her parents turned around to find the matches on top of the refrigerator, she snuck a fingertip of the frosting off the side of the cake, hurriedly forcing it into her mouth before they could see. She smiled innocently and adjusted her party hat as they came over to light the eleven candles that delightfully topped the cake. They finished off with another round of the song and Grace paused dramatically to ponder her wish. But she was happy. She had everything she wanted at the moment. She wished for someone she didn’t know, someone that was less fortunate than her, and wished harder than ever that that wish would come true. Grace blew out the candles, one by one (with the unexpected help of little Prudence).
“What’d you wish for? What’d you wish for?” Prudence asked excitingly, staring into Grace’s eyes as if she were a goddess. To be eleven was grand, Prudence thought, and she only hoped that she could be half the something her sister was. Their mother cut the cake into thick slices, placing one on four paper plates and handing them all out as if they were candy. The girls immediately dug into the rich frosting, licking it off their fingers and forks as if it were their last meal.
“Can’t tell you,” Grace told her sister seriously. “If I do it won’t come true.”
Before Prudence could respond a foreign owl flew in through the open window nearby with a sealed envelope in its beak. It pecked at the dinner table repeatedly after dropping the letter, its eyes like round, shiny quarters in the bright room.
“Oh, sweetheart, congratulations! Your letter!”
She had known it would be coming today. Her eyes lit up as she tore it open, reading the finely printed cursive telling her of how she had been accepted at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, of where she would learn magic and meet new friends and live for the next seven years.
Her mother was still congratulating her and reading over her shoulder while Prudence snuck another piece of cake from the tray. She was too young to understand such things as magic and her sister leaving. As Grace dropped the letter onto the table after she had read it, her father scooped her into his arms and tickled her while in the air.
~*~
A knock on the door sent Josiah flying down the stairs, nearly slipping on the welcome mat at the door. He flung the door open and smiled before it was even swung open all the way. He already knew who it would be.
“Hey Grace!”
“Hey Josiah! Can you play?”
“I think so.” He hurriedly slid on his sandals, calling to his mother that he was going out. She shouted a dim ‘okay’ as the screen door slammed.
“Oh, wait a second!” Josiah suddenly said, holding up a finger indicating for Grace to wait. He took off back up the sidewalk and entered his house. As he reached his room he peered under the bed for his gift. It was Grace’s birthday, and he had gotten his mother to take him shopping for the perfect present. He had bought it with his own money, and the sound of it inside the cardboard box made his heart skip with pleasure. He couldn’t wait to see her face as she opened it and found what was inside. He carefully inspected it to make sure both the tape and wrapping paper were in order before setting off down the stairs for a second time. He put the box behind his back as he slammed the screen door after him. A smile alit Grace’s face at his return.
“Race ya,” she said with a devious grin, once again taking off running. She turned around to make sure he was following, but he was tagging along right behind her. She produced a burst of speed at the challenge. Josiah always let her win the races. She didn’t know that, but he found delight in her smile as she usually said out of breath, “Beat You!” and collapse onto the ground. They would both clutch their stomachs with hilarity after they accessed the forest. They found that the best way to rid themselves of the fear of the place was to laugh. It was impossible not to chuckle listening to Grace and Josiah as a pair.
They reached the pond quickly from the energy of their run. Josiah and Grace sat down simultaneously to take off their shoes for a swim. As Grace got down to her socks, Josiah still struggled with his first shoe. He paused for a moment, then brought a hand back accompanied by a box wrapped in blue paper. Grace looked over briefly and her eyes lit up.
“This is for you, Grace.”
“Wow, Josiah!” She hesitated, then took the box from his hands and smiled. As she unwrapped her present, her eyes focused into his for a moment. What she saw was amusement and pleasure. She balled the used paper in a wad and set it aside. Grace lifted the lid off the plastic box and her eyes grew wide. Her smile became an enormous grin.
“It’s so pretty!” she said, holding it up for him to see as if it was something he had never laid eyes on before. But of course he had. He had stared at it for hours before finally deciding to ever wrap it. He had wanted to make sure it was the perfect thing. “So Grace-ful.”
She pulled back the plastic and unhooked the tape, allowing the necklace to fall into her hands. A profound green pendant encased in a silver heart hung on the chain, dangling off the hand she held in front of her face to examine it. It was the same color as his hat.
“Thanks so much, Josiah!” she said mesmerized, giving him a quick hug. She held it up, indicating for him to assist her in putting it on. She carefully handed him the chain so he wouldn’t drop it and he draped it around her neck, clasping it on the ends. She lifted her hair and held it between two fingers, still observing because of its beauty.
“I wanted you to have the same thing I do, like my hat. It’s supposed to protect you, see? The same color and everything.” He gave her a warm smile and she returned it, soon averting her eyes to the grass in front of her. She kept her gaze there for a few moments. A confused expression alit her features.
“Josiah, what is it like to be kissed?” She tilted her head to the side as she spoke to illustrate her bewilderment.
Josiah immediately returned her question with a very sarcastic grin. “How am I supposed to know that, huh?” He let out a small chuckle, though inside his heart fluttered.
“I mean, I’m just wonderin’.”
“I’ve never kissed anyone before,” Josiah whispered.
She nodded and picked at a mound of overgrown reeds to satisfy their silence.
“But if I was gonna kiss someone, I’d pick you, Grace.”
Grace’s eyes grew wide though they did not shift their gaze. She finally looked up at him and smiles.
“I’d kiss you too, Jo.”
“Well, then---”
But Grace’s lips brushing his cut off whatever it was he was intending to pronounce. It was a sweet, childish kiss, a small peck that lasted half a second, but to them it was an occurrence they would never forget. It was the kind of kiss that parents would giggle and coo over. Grace’s cheeks blushed scarlet and Josiah’s eyes grew the size of quarters. He took off his cap and put it back on his head carefully for no real reason.
“Grace---”
“Race ya to the clubhouse!” she suddenly yelled stridently, taking hold of her tennis shoes on the ground and dashing away. Josiah stayed rooted to the spot for a few minutes, still struck with the realization of what had just happened.
A smile didn’t leave his face the entire time they played that day.
~*~
“Josiah, you have to tell her soon.”
“I can’t. She’ll hate me for it.”
“She will not hate you, ever.” His mother rolled those brown eyes of hers and placed her hands on her hips in a very dramatic way.
“I’ll tell her when it rains.”
She sighed and said in a deep, soft voice, “Josiah, that could be another ten years. I think that Grace will have figured it out by then. Don’t you think that she’ll be sad if she doesn’t see you at school everyday and you haven’t told her why?”
“If it doesn’t rain then I don’t have to tell her.”
“Josiah...”
Josiah’s eyes narrowed to the linoleum floor that his mother had tried oh-so-hard to keep clean, though he couldn’t help but wonder why. It always ended up dirty anyhow. The same floor he had tracked countless muddy footprints in with Grace, he always forgetting to take off his shoes at the front door. She would always give her sweet little giggle as he would tug them off, still standing, only to dirty up the tile even more by wobbling on one foot. He’d usually end up falling to the floor on his bottom, and then she’d really laugh.
Hide and Seek was a very daring game and a muddy, worn-out swimming hole in the middle of their woods had seemed the appropriate place to hide at the time. Their shoes had been a disaster as they walked in. But Grace had always lingered for him as he struggled through life, always making mistakes. Grace had always come off on her own brilliantly, still shining in a clean white dress while he had to run into another room and wash the dirt off his face. She was the perfect one and he wasn’t. She had the Wizarding powers and he didn’t. It was unexpected that he wouldn’t have them, but if that was the truth then it only seemed right. He was going to have to tell her soon. Rain didn’t matter.
“Fine, Momma. I’ll go now. Is it okay if I go over?”
“That’s a boy. And yes, you can. Be careful crossing the street.”
“Yes’m,” he said sluggishly, averting his gaze to the floor and shrugging to himself. He stood there for a moment, still thinking on how on earth he was going to explain to his best friend that they would no longer be best friends. It was true though. If Grace was to go away to a school so many miles away and only come home during Christmas and summer... that wouldn’t leave much time for a friendship. While he would count down the days until that two-month vacation, he couldn’t help but wonder why life had surfaced the way it had. His family had been involved in magic for many generations, yet the line suddenly stopped with him. He would not be going to Hogwarts and learning of magic. He wouldn’t ever have his own wand to hold--- the wand makers would never see him in their shops and assist him in finding the perfect instrument in wielding his ability because Josiah had no ability.
Yet, while he remained miserable because of this discovery, a diminutive part inside him couldn’t help but be jealous. Grace would be far away learning how to turn a rabbit into a teacup, how to cook food without flame, how to duel someone--- and he would be trapped inside a public school with normal children, sitting in a desk rotting, learning hardly anything at all.
He went to his room and cried for a long while before going to see Grace. With the cap perched atop his head for comfort, he had sat in the corner of the room on his beanbag chair with nothing else to listen to but the sounds of his own sniffles and whimpers. While he cried for his yearning for Hogwarts, he also cried for his yearning for a father. He would have done something to help him get into the school. The two emotions blended together were monstrous, and for the rest of the day Josiah bathed in an onerous pit of depression.
Minutes before darkness would settle over the town, Josiah forced himself to stand from that dreaded corner and walk to the bathroom to wash his face. As the cold water ran and he waited patiently for it to grow warm, he thought. No Hogwarts meant no Grace. If he wouldn’t ever see Grace, then what was the point of telling her anyway? If he didn’t have to see her then he didn’t have to tell her. Maybe he just wouldn’t go and visit her today, or ever.
That thought faded in his mind only a second after it was thought. What would his mother say? Most of all, what would he say to himself? He couldn’t leave his best friend hanging over the edge like that. Surely she would be angry no matter what, but sadder that he had chosen not to tell her.
The water was now scalding. He turned the tap to the right and it became the correct temperature. He rubbed his eyes and blew his nose, then changed into a clean shirt. At least now he looked decent, though his face was still quite puffy and red.
“I’m going to see Grace!” he yelled before allowing the screen door slam behind him. It felt like the millionth, and dismally the final, time that he would be slamming that very door to run to her house. He slowly hopped down each step, stuffing his sweating hands into his shorts’ pockets as he went along. Grace’s large house loomed a ways in front of him. He still had to cross the road before he could see her. He soon realized, again, that he had yet to think of what he was going to say. Sorry, Grace--- You’re magical, I’m not, we can’t be friends anymore except during the summer. Have a nice life. Definitely not.
A white mustang came speeding down the road recklessly, its driver drunk and crazy behind the wheel. It slowed only to do a donut in the road, screeching the tires and burning serious rubber as it turned around and around on the quiet street. The wheel was twisted again, sending it lurching forward as the tires whined behind him. The car hit seventy after six seconds, and the driver closed his eyes for a moment, feeling free. His arms let go of the wheel and he believed he was flying. He was a bird in the air. He was a butterfly in the sky. He was---
He opened his eyes in time to see a young boy crossing the street, his hands in his pockets, a green hat pulled over his eyes. He appeared to be deep in thought, his eyes half-closed, his mouth shaped in a grim line.
But I could write to her. I will write to her. We won’t ever stop being friends, he thought, smiling. He reached up to adjust the cap and smooth his hair.
A screech of tires brought him out of his reverie.
~*~
A telephone call interrupted Grace from her board game with Prudence and she sat up swiftly. She reached over for the phone and pressed the talk button with one finger, giving way to a voice on the other end.
“Hello?” she asked with a yawn, standing up so she could hear well. She rubbed her left eye with a free hand and listened.
“Hi, Grace. Can you please send Josiah home for supper?”
Grace looked around the living room. “Um, he’s not here. He went home earlier this morning.”
“Well, maybe he’s in his room and I just didn’t---”
The sirens she heard approaching outside her window were heard on the other end. Josiah’s mother stole a glance outside the glass and saw quite a sight. A car had blown right through her mailbox and the bricks were scattered everywhere. She put a hand to her lips and breathed deeply, hoping the driver was all right. She suddenly spotted something lying in the road.
Grace heard a scream that made her blood turn to ice, a click like a phone being dropped and broken, then the familiarity of a dial tone. Grace exhaled a deep breath and hung up the phone, suddenly feeling terrified. But just like the sirens she heard on the other end, a shriek soon resounded outside as well. Prudence and Grace’s eyes both averted instantly to the window.
Grace’s mother and father fled into the living room where Prudence and Grace resided. Seeing their children were all right, her mother then flung open the front door and saw the scene that unfolded in front of them.
“Stay here, girls, and do not go out of this house.”
It was not a request. It was a command, and a harsh one at that.
~*~
Her parents did not return until nearly ten o’clock.
“I want Josiah to show me his letter. I have mine still here in the envelope,” Grace said, walking to them with the white, torn envelope held in her hands. “I didn’t get it dirty or anything. Since you weren’t here I couldn’t ask you to go to his house. Is it okay if I go now?”
“There’s something that we have to tell you, Grace.”
“Wait.” She listened. “What were those sirens?”
“Sweetheart, they were police cars.”
“What? Well, can you please let me go and see Josiah first? Can what you have to tell me wait? I promise I’ll be home soon,” she told them matter-of-factly. Her eyes glanced at the door. “What are all those red and blue lights---”
“Grace, Josiah’s not going to receive a letter.”
“W--- Why not?” Her lips turned into a pout. “He’s not going to Hogwarts with me? He has to.” Her mother closed her eyes and two plump tears rolled down her swollen cheeks. She immediately sensed that something was dreadfully wrong. Feelings in her stomach suddenly made her want to dash to the toilet and throw up. “Where is he?” Her mother opened her mouth to speak but Grace harshly cut her off. “I want him to tell me why!” She turned around to run toward the front door but was caught by her father’s engulfing arms. He pulled her close and stroked her hair softly before speaking. Grace finally peeked at him through the embrace and noticed that his face was tear-streaked as well.
“It could have been you...” her mother mumbled, joining the hug.
“Daddy, what’s the matter?” No answer came forth immediately and she wanted to know right this instant what was the matter. “Mom, please tell me!”
“It’s Josiah, baby.”
“What’s wrong? Is he sick? I’ll go and visit him at his house, we can take him some soup so he can get better faster.” She was talking so fast it was difficult to understand her. She gave them a weak smile and played with her ponytail between her fingers, her eyes wide. “He can’t be sick on his first day of his new school. It’s okay, Mommy. He’ll get better.”
Her mother just shook her head with no words. The sound of a tongue ungluing from the roof of a mouth came and her mother licked her lips. Tears came down silently, as if she didn’t know they had been turned on. She hiccupped for a breath of air. Her father didn’t speak. He was in a daze, forcing himself to look on the other side of the room so this mess wouldn’t cause his tears to flow again as well.
“Gracie, God needed another angel in Heaven and...” She stopped, unsure of where she was going with her last sentence. “And God chose Josiah, honey.”
Her face was inexpressive. “What are you talking about?” Her eyes went to the carpet. “Josiah’s not an angel. I just saw him this morning---”
“Grace, Josiah went to Heaven.” Her father had finally spoken.
Grace stared at him as if he had said something disgusting. “How?”
Her parents both dared glance at the other, then looked down at the ground.
“Honey, I don’t think that you should know that. He’s in Heaven now, that’s all that matters.”
“No, he’s not. I just saw him this morning.” Silence soon met their ears and no one moved.
“Grace, I wouldn’t lie to you about something like this. Not Josiah.” She paused. “I’m so sorry, sweetheart. Come here.” She held out her arms for her daughter to succumb to.
Grace didn’t move. She stood still for the longest time, just staring at the floor. “Why?”
“I don’t know, sweetheart,” her mother said, reaching over to stroke her hair. “Sometimes life doesn’t work out like you plan it to.”
“No,” she told them again, shaking her head furiously. “I mean why are you lying to me?”
Her mother looked as if she had been slapped. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. “Grace I know this is hard for you to understand, but---”
“No! He’s not in Heaven! I just saw him. Someone lied to you---”
“Gracie, no one would do such a---”
Grace unexpectedly broke away from her father’s grip and reached the front door before one of them could take hold of her. She threw open the screen door and with her dress flying behind her, stepped off the front steps and onto the brown soil. The night was dark and terrifying but she scampered anyway. She had to get away from her parents. She had to find Josiah. She treaded carefully but speedily in her bare feet over the ground, cautious not to tread over any sharp brushwood or stones. Her father raced out to the front lawn to catch her, but she disappeared behind the house and he didn’t see where she went. Reaching the back yard, he saw her progress through a clump of thick foliage. The woods.
“Gracie!” he yelled, trying to catch his breath. “Gracie, come back here! You’re not supposed to go in there!” Even he didn’t dare tread inside those woods and especially at night. “Grace!” He stepped into the woods warily and scanned the area for any sign of beast, animal or ghost. It was so shadowy inside that he could hardly see his hand in front of his face. No moon glowed bright tonight. Only a sliver dared show itself behind grey clouds.
“Come back!”
~*~
Grace stumbled through the woods without seeing. Her brain wasn’t even telling them to move but they went along anyway. Her eyes poured tears, making her nearly blind even if she had been watching where she was going. She felt numb. Even the occasional branch being jammed into her eye or stone wedged into her foot didn’t faze her.
She couldn’t believe it. Not Josiah. A sob escaped her throat and she suddenly stopped, aware of someone calling her name. Her breath resounded in her ears loudly and her heart almost stopped at the sound.
“Grace... Grace...”
The voice was haunting, terrifying, and her heart jumped into her throat as the sound continued to fill her ears. Her entire body went numb with fear. This was the same thing, the same unexplainable event that had happened to her and Josiah as they had entered the woods the first time. It had been as if all the animals were demonic, their wicked eyes peering over their nests to gaze at them walking through. As they crunched over the brushwood and dead leaves the clouds seemed to give into the forest’s powers as well. They became discolored and grey instead of the silky blue they had been that entire day, and the sun had disappeared. The wind had begun to blow and looked as if a storm was coming, but of course the rain never came. At the present moment the trees seemed to sway with the presence of this voice calling out her name, but Grace ruthlessly dismissed it as a typical wind. After a few moments, a suspicion of what it really was surfaced.
“No, please...” she choked out at a whispering tone, a whimper coming forth from her blocked throat. It felt as if something were stuck in her esophagus, as if she was choking and she couldn’t get the barrier out with a cough. Every time she thought of Josiah her heart jumped. Her head felt larger than a balloon for the pressure that was building inside of it from all the crying. She looked wretched. Her hair was sticking up and a disaster from the running she had done through the trees; most hung limp and tied in the lone barrette, but some had fallen out and dangled in dead wisps around her face. She wiped the locks away as she rubbed her eyes. Her face was red and dirty. She didn’t want the voice to find her. She could feel her heart beating inside of her head; she could feel it in her temples, her wrists, her legs. Just that very noise, thump... thump... thump... Grace bolted again, holding her arms in front of her and waving like a blind person, this time stopping quickly in an embankment of trees. The trees stood tall beside the other, but their leaves and undergrowth intertwined together as the structures grew upward, making odd shapes and twists of the wood and plants. She squirmed under their protective branches, skinning her knees over rocks and drawing blood. The leaves on the ground made a rustling sound as she scuttled over them. Grace hugged one of the trunks and tried not to move, but her body’s violent heaving forced her sobs to become louder. She hit her lips on the trunk, trying to become closer to it. She placed her tongue between her teeth and waited for the pain to come. A metallic taste crept along her taste buds and she hastily spat a great puddle of spit and blood onto the ground to escape it. She wiped her mouth and only succeeded in receiving a crimson smear across her pale arm. Grace looked in every direction to make sure that some beast wasn’t coming to take her to Heaven too, but her sight had a better imagination than her mind did. She was suddenly seeing things, every so often moving in different directions, blurry in image because of the darkness. Tears streamed down her face and she felt as if she were never going to be cheerful again. She didn’t even know if she would make it out of here alive. Without Josiah by her side the woods seemed a thousand times scarier. There was no way he was dead. He couldn’t be dead, he was just too young. Josiah was her best friend. She had heard of children dying at their age but had never been fearful of it: she wasn’t sick and she didn’t put herself in danger on many occasions. The woods didn’t count, she thought, because she had always been with him. With Josiah.
“Josiah!” she screamed, heaving breaths from her run, trying to catch it from her sobs. “Josiah, please! Help me!”
“Grace... Grace...”
She closed her eyes and screamed in terror. “HELP ME!” She trembled violently. The tears continued their path down her flushed cheeks. Never in her life had she been this scared. Scared for being in the woods by herself, yes, but also scared for not having a best friend any longer. Who was she going to spend the rest of her life with? Who was going to play Hide and Seek with her until the sun went down? Who was going to be her best friend at Hogwarts? And most of all, who was going to help her finish the clubhouse they had started at the beginning of the summer?
A quick crackling sound resonated behind her and she counted to three in her head before opening her eyes to see what it was. She slowly unwrapped her arms from the thick trunk, unlocking her fingers as she turned around. Nothing was there that she could see, not even the fuzziness. A bird must have taken off from her frantic screams. But this didn’t restrain her from keeping her eyes open and alert.
“Grace... Grace...”
Her eyes slowly went across the land, still investigating for the source of the noise but not finding anything. She dared to sniffle and wipe her eyes, but that only scattered more leaves. Whatever it was chasing her surely knew where she was now. It was probably only toying with her.
Grace unexpectedly sought the solace of their unfinished clubhouse and jumped to her feet. She broke into a run without even looking around her. Even if the beast was chasing her, what could she possibly do about it? It was either going to come after her or it not, and while she hoped for the latter she didn’t have any say in it. The tree branches leaned and rocked in the fierce wind as she passed by the pond. She almost plunged in at one point, not recognizing or grasping where she was, and got her shoes wet, but stumbled along until she came across the correct path. She still remembered the last time they were in it together, how she had screamed as she swung on the rope and fallen into the murky water. She just wished she could jump in now and dream that Josiah was beside her. Another crackling noise made her run farther away from it.
Grace finally reached the clubhouse and with a great heave, jumped high enough to grab the board a foot above her head with two hands, then swing her legs up and into the tree. She clutched a thick branch and, making sure by putting some of her weight on it first, tested it carefully to make sure it would hold her long enough to get across. She held fast to the limb, closed her eyes, and leapt over to the base of the clubhouse and balanced herself so she wouldn’t fall. She finally sat down and hugged her knees to her chest, tears silently going down her face as she peered between the branches of the tree to see if the creature that was calling her name still followed her. She found solace in her height, a good ten feet above the ground, and closed her eyes. The last thing she saw before she fell asleep was the color green--- Josiah’s baseball cap green.
~*~
“I found her in the forest.”
“Why on earth was she in there?”
“That’s where she ran to when I chased her in the yard, I don’t know why.”
“Thank God she’s all right. She could have been killed if she had fallen off those boards. How did you find her?”
“I just came across her. I called her name for a good ten minutes. I heard her screaming and followed the sound.”
Grace listened to the sounds of her worried parents as she awoke. She did not open her eyes in fear that what she was living really and truly was reality. If they had found her in the forest, then that meant that Josiah was dead. Perhaps she could fall asleep again and wake up to find him peering over her instead of her parents. That would be so much more comforting.
“What is Lacey going to do about the funeral services?” Funeral services. The shock of the two words chilled Grace’s heart.
“I’m going to cook some dinner and bring it over to her after we get Gracie in bed. We’ll talk about it then.” She paused. “It has to be done.”
Grace’s heart felt as if it has just plummeted a thousand feet. She sighed and hoped that they were only joking. That or she was still dreaming.
“Daddy?” Grace asked, finally opening her blue eyes. “Mommy?”
“It’s okay, sweetheart,” her mother said, “The doctor is on his way. Go on back to sleep, all right?”
She doesn’t even have to be told and gives into the blackness calling her name underneath her eyelids.
~*~
The very thought of a funeral made Grace want to quiver, but her best friend’s funeral made her want to cry and scream that it wasn’t fair, then hide under her covers. Her mother helped her dress in an outfit in a color that she hated. Black. It was the very color of death, but she did not complain. Her mother still cried as she fastened the buttons of her own dress in the full-length mirror in her bathroom. She smoothed a hair behind her ear and stared at herself.
“No funny stuff, Prudence,” she suddenly said, “If you act up today you will be punished. Grace...” Her mother looked at her crumpling form and sighed. “I don’t think I have to tell you, either.”
Prudence sniffled. “I won’t, Momma.” Grace only nodded. The words became blocked in her throat.
Their mother suddenly wrapped them both in a tight embrace and said not a word. The girls understood not to push away or say anything. She finally released them and soon went to the car. Across the street many vehicles were gathered, but they were not there for a party. Families and couples alike hiked up the sidewalk like a matching parade of the Black Death. It was very robotic, the way people moved. Everyone wore black; from their hats to their shoes, the color did not falter. Grace didn’t think that Josiah would have wanted black. He would have wanted bright colors, and for everyone to be happy. He would have wanted people to dance to lively music and to blow soap bubbles in each other’s faces to celebrate his life. But Grace soon snapped back to reality and realized that she could no longer ask what Josiah would have wanted. A plummeting feeling in her stomach almost made her retch on the leather seating.
Inside the house she was greeted warmly by strangers, hugged by Josiah’s cousins, kissed by his grieving mother. Lacey couldn’t stay for long. She soon fled up the stairs to be sick in the upstairs bathroom rather than allow everyone to hear her. She stayed there for a while and did not come back down. Grace’s parents stood talking to the other people and Grace soon wandered off on her own. She saw Prudence gaze longingly at her to go as well but she didn’t return the look and continued walking.
She wandered to a window to reflect on the past few days. The view outside was ordinary. Yet another car passed by and pulled into the driveway. The grass swayed in the wind, though the sun did not shine as usual. The sky was misted over and dreary. Appropriate weather for such an appropriate event.
Making sure that her mother wasn’t looking, she went to the door and opened it up, walking outside. She strolled through the yard, picking a few dandelions and wishing, blowing their small seeds away with a swift breath. Josiah never came running out of the house, so she figured they weren’t successful.
As she wandered from the driveway to her own yard, Grace spotted something foreign lying in the culvert under her driveway. Because of her curiosity, the girl went immediately over to see what it was. Upon reaching the sight Grace didn’t know whether to cry or laugh.
Josiah’s green baseball cap lay in a pile of dirt, upturned but not damaged.
She soon walked back into the house. She knew what she had to do, but she had to do this alone. As she passed the stairs where Josiah’s mother had went, Grace noticed that the room to Josiah’s door was closed. She carried herself through the kitchen and passed many people whom she had never seen before. They all wanted to shake her hand but she ignored them.
Finally the door loomed in front of her, many feet taller than her height. She slowly allowed her hand to reach up to the brass knob to turn it in her hand. As her palm collided with the cold metal, her skin crawled. She knew that this was where Josiah rested.
She finally found the courage to turn the knob As she pushed open the door a wave of fresh flowers hits her nostrils. The scent was very calming and satisfying, though her heart nearly stopped as she saw who was lying in the open casket across from her. Josiah, calm and pale, rested gently inside. His chest did not rise and fall. Grace walked forward slowly. She stroked the cultured wood gently, carefully in case it fell. The very thought of it made her jerk her hand back. She had yet to look at his face; staring at the windowsill, the picture frames, the flowers, the carpet--- those were much more effortless to look at. She forcibly made herself stare at his face. Just the day before he had been so happy, so alive. She glimpsed a purple bruise around his forehead, but it had been covered in some kind of powdered make up and left alone. It would never heal. She had wanted to see him, but she hadn’t known what it would have been like. She wanted to see Josiah, not this empty shell. She wanted to touch him, to hold his hand, but she decided it best not to. She only stared and amazingly did not cry. Something about how she was right in front of him, staring at him, made her feel calm and at peace. Grace still felt miserable on the inside, but right now she found it comforting to see him so serene.
She reached down with both hands to hold the green baseball cap between her fingers. She wanted to keep it for herself, to wear it and allow the same powers it had given Josiah to transfer into her. She didn’t want to be scared anymore. Grace placed the infamous baseball cap, Josiah’s trademark item, on top of his head gently so she wouldn’t ruin the elegant suit he was in. Now he could wear it in Heaven. Any normal person would have said it hadn’t matched and removed it immediately, but Grace thought it complemented the outfit. It was perfect.
Josiah could finally rest in peace.
~*~
She runs through the woods, the voice chasing her. Some unknown force blocks the screams that bellow from her throat. She falls down and grates her knee on a slick boulder. She plummets into a large pile of foliage. As the crunching leaves catch in her hair, the tears begin to pour. Grace wipes the tears from her eyes on the sleeve of her white dress and knocks a baseball cap onto the ground. It is Josiah’s baseball cap. She picks it up, crying even more now, and sees that it now has a large hole bored through the top of it.
Josiah suddenly comes from behind a tree, his head appearing bare without his signature hat. The purple bruise is now more apparent, mo make up in sight.
“Why’d you mess up my hat, Grace? My dad gave me it. My dad. I miss him so much and now you broke my hat.”
She screams that she is sorry, pleading with him to forgive her. She says that it isn’t her fault but he just shakes her head.
“You’re not my best friend anymore.”
~*~
Grace awoke in a flurry of tears and covered in slick sweat. She had virtually dehydrated under the covers as she slept and even wet the bed. Her cheeks turned dark crimson though she knew no one could see. It was a good thing Josiah wasn’t standing there.
The very thought of him made her body shake. Her heart fluttered inside her small chest for what felt like the millionth time.
It was barely light. Grace lay in her bed for a moment, wrapping the warm comforter around her to dry her face. She just rested there in a large muddle of her sweat, tears, and soiled sheets remembering how good of a best friend she had. Before her mind could even process that it was too early to wake up, tears pool in her eyes. Today was the day that she would have been speedily gathering her last-minute items to throw into her trunk for school. Today was the day her parents would have gotten up early, made her a grand breakfast, and given her millions of kisses and hugs to wish her goodbye. Today was the day she would have been riding to the train station with Josiah. But yesterday those dreams were shattered. Hope of having an old friend to sit with on the train is gone. Hope of her parents giving her an excited farewell dissolves into a quiet and sad one. And hope of Josiah comforting her nostalgia with jokes and crazy tales with adventures of their new school fade away. None of these will ever happen now that he is gone. She lays ashen and pale on her bed, tears sliding down her cheeks. She looked and was pitiful. Her best friend was dead and there was nothing she could do about it. She wanted him back so bad and the thought not being able to ever see him again was torturing.
Grace slipped quietly out of bed and slid on her old tennis shoes, careful not to step on any creaks in her upstairs bedroom as she walked across the wood floor. Even the tennis shoes bring memories. She pulled her hair into a messy ponytail behind her and set off down the stairs. As she passed her parents’ room she saw her mother sleeping soundly in a chair in the room, while her father slouched on the bed in a disturbed sleep uncovered by a blanket. Grace hesitated but turned around to go back up the stairs. She pulled two thick comforters from the hall closet and went back down the stairs to her parents’ room.
As she placed the warm comforter around her mother’s shoulders, tucking it neatly under her chin, Grace gave her sleeping form a weak smile. Her mother sighed in her sleep, turned over slightly in the chair and positioned differently. Grace prayed silently that the door didn’t decide to creak in the moment when she least needs it to. It doesn’t. She sets off quietly down the porch, the base of her shoes making the only noise besides twittering birds.
...Clip, Clop, Clip, Clop, Clip, Clop...
She entered the woods and immediately regretted it. It was darker than usual. While it was not the gloom she witnessed the night before, she still didn’t feel protected. No friend was there to accompany her. She wrapped her arms around her shoulders tightly, placing her chin in the crook of her left arm, and walked forward. When she reaches the clubhouse, the first thing she does is plan in her mind how to erect the rest of it.
Something wet falls on the tip of her nose and she scowls and brushes it away. She needn’t cry. She shouldn’t cry.
Something else soon falls on her arm. Soon another drop falls on her arm, on her shorts, on her shirt. It soon begins to pour... rain? Grace peered upward. The sky suddenly had opened up from the heavens, but it was not a miserable gray color. The sun was suddenly shining and the clouds were a deep blue shade. She grinned, allowing the rain to drench her face. She licked the water from her lips and laughed, a laugh like one she would have if Josiah were with her. It scared away the ghosts. She jumped down from the boards and danced in the puddles gathering in the mud. All of her worries fade slightly, one by one, with each drop that falls onto the ground.
She would build this clubhouse, help or not. She would place the nails and the wood in the correct places and she would accomplish what she wanted. Needed. Their friendship would last forever, together or not. She wouldn’t be doing this for herself. She looked down to her chest at the green necklace he had given her and smiled.
Grace was going to do this for Josiah.