The Runaway
Lewis Parker sat on the curb. It was nearly noon and the sun was at its highest, glaring down at him with a fiery intensity. It had been exactly four hours since he ran away. With the speed of a slug, Lewis got up from the curb and continued his hike up the street. Only seven years old and a fugitive, he was running from the law…of his parents.
A sudden urge to look back over his shoulder took over him and he snuck a peek at the small yellow house at the end of the col-de-sac. His mother was probably just sitting down with some tea and sandwiches and his father would just be turning on the Sunday football game. And if he hadn’t run away, little Lewis Parker would be sitting right in the middle of them, having a pleasant Sunday morning.
But Lewis kept on trudging along down the desolate street of Salisbury Lane. Fatigued and dreary eyed from that long hike down the street, Lewis took a seat at the end of the block, right under Miss Vanderhiggin’s apple tree.
Lewis was a skinny lad with hair the color of sand and eyes the shade of parsley. He was like any other boy as well with cuts on bruises on his knees and elbows. He even had a scratch just below his left cheek in the shape of a crescent moon. It was from running into Miss Vanderhiggin’s mean old tabby cat, Bobarious, who happened to be making its way down from the apple tree Lewis had taken refuge under.
“Hello Bobarious,” Lewis chirped. Despite the small tussle the two had gotten into the day before, the two got along quite nicely. On occasion, Miss Vanderhiggin would leave Bobarious in Lewis’s care.
The black brown tabby stretched out its back taking a gruesome looking yawn, and slinked over to Lewis rubbing up against his side like a slinky.
“You funny cat,” Lewis said scratching Bobarious between the ears. “Guess what Bobarious, I’ve run away.”
The cat sat down and blinked at Lewis as if to say “go on.” And so Lewis did.
“Mommy and Daddy were yelling at me because I hit Ainsley,” Lewis pouted. “It wasn’t even my fault, she started it.”
Bobarious blinked twice at Lewis as if to say “I’m so sorry, but I need to go now and drink out of those milk bottles.”
“Bobarious, I had no choice but run away…Bobarious?” Lewis watched in disappointment as his friend stalked away towards the dozen of milk bottles.
Lewis began to cry. Despite his anger at his parents for not believing Ainsley had started the fight, he missed them immensely. The tears rolled down his flustered cheeks like the rain of a fast moving sun shower.
In the periwinkle house behind Lewis, a rather ancient looking woman with hair that resembled something of Mount Everest as it was just as big and white, it seemed, was peering out the window at him. With a surprisingly amount of vigor, Miss Vanderhiggin opened the window and leaned halfway out.
“Lewis,” she croaked. “Lewis, come here little dove.”
Lewis looked around until he spotted the colorfully dressed Miss Vanderhiggin leaning out of the window, one of her arms flailing to get his attention. Discretely wiping away his tears, followed by a loud sniff, Lewis bashfully made his way up to Miss Vanderhiggin’s lemon colored front door which opened instantaneously.
“Come in, come in, come in,” Miss Vanderhiggin sang. “Come join me for some tea.”
Lewis followed the old woman into her house, which was gaudily decorated like her dress. Miss Vanderhiggin sat Lewis down at her lime green kitchen table which was surrounded by a vibrant lavender room. Lewis enjoyed coming to Miss Vanderhiggin’s house and looking at all the exotic colors she used in her house. His parents said it was like Roy G. Biv had thrown up inside her home. But none the less, Lewis always felt every color of happiness in each room and it was quite often his parents told him “beauty is in the eye of the beholder”.
Miss Vanderhiggin was no different than her house. Just as bright and colorful, quite the opposite of Mr. Grizzly across the street, who was around the same age and acted it. He was rather terrifying and Lewis would always avoid Mr. Grizzly’s gaze when walking into town. Miss Vanderhiggin’s always told Lewis not to worry and someone had just beat Mr. Grizzly with the ugly stick, that’s why he’s mean.
Miss Vanderhiggin set the kettle upon the stove and let it boil. “Well a watched kettle never boils,” she said merrily. “Best tell me what’s wrong Lewis. How about it?”
“It’s Ainsley Miss Vanderhiggin,” Lewis said glumly. “She’s done it again and got me into trouble.”
“Well maybe she likes you,” Miss Vanderhiggin teased. She chuckled at Lewis’s disgruntled face which looked as if he tasted something sour. “Oh come now, Ainsley ain’t that bad Lewis.”
“Then how come she always gets me in trouble,” Lewis snapped. “She’s a big bully.”
“I think she wants to be your friend,” Miss Vanderhiggin said.
The kettle suddenly began to whistle angrily causing for the two of them to jump. Miss Vanderhiggin turned the stove down low and got to cups in the shaped of a turtle and a giraffe from the cupboard above. “Would you like oolong or caramel and vanilla flavored tea?”
“Caramel and vanilla,” Lewis said, suddenly smiled. “And extra sugar and crème, please.”
Miss Vanderhiggin nodded and began to concoct the two different teas.
“Miss Vanderhiggin,” Lewis said, suddenly set back in his gloomy and dreary state. “Should I apologize to Ainsley…even though she started it?”
“Well that would be the gentlemen thing to do,” Miss Vanderhiggin said, setting both cups on the table. She took a quick sip of her oolong and looked sideways at Lewis. “I think you should. Maybe she’ll stop pestering you.”
“But I am too young to be a gentlemen,” Lewis said smugly.
“You are never too young to have manners,” Miss Vanderhiggin retorted. “Now let’s finish our tea and I think it’s best we get you back to your house. Your parents must be worried.”
“They haven’t come looking for me, it’s been four hours,” Lewis said. “I don’t think they love me anymore.”
“That’s poppycock, your parent’s love you dearly,” Miss Vanderhiggin coddled. “Now come on, let me get you back to your parents.”
“But I have run away Miss Vanderhiggin,” Lewis said defensively, clambering down from his chair. “I can’t turn back now, I’ve gone too far already.”
“Sweet pea, you’ve only gone to the end of the street, how bout I ride you back on my bike, I need the exercise,” said Miss Vanderhiggin. “And I will warn you now, the wicked run away when no one is chasing them, but the godly are as bold as lions.”
“What does that mean Miss Vanderhiggin?”
“It means that if you go back now, you will be praised for your better judgment. Now hurry up and follow me,” Miss Vanderhiggin said, picking up her straw hat from the counter. “It’s getting late soon and I wouldn’t want you walking by yourself.”
“Yes ma’am.” Lewis said, following the old woman out of her house to the front porch. She picked up the old bike leaning against the wall of the house and motioned for Lewis to come nearer.
“Now go ahead and sit on the handlebars,” She said. Miss Vanderhiggin waited till Lewis climbed up onto the handlebars of the bike before mounting it and peddled them out onto the street.
Just as they passed the house with two chimneys, Mr. Grizzly hobbled down from his front porch, his cane raised in the air. “Gertrude, I have a bone to pick with you!”
Lewis laughed as Miss Vanderhiggin rolled her eyes and stopped the bike in front of Mr. Grizzly. Miss Vanderhiggin looked even smaller and thinner next to Mr. Grizzly who walked much like a bear does on its hind legs with his arms turned downward complete with his scruffy beard and disheveled beard giving him an overall, rustic look.
“Gertrude, your blasted apples are rolling across the street into my yard and are rotting,” Mr. Grizzly barked.
“I am sorry to hear that,” Miss Vanderhiggin said sweetly. Lewis wondered how she could speak so nicely to a man with no manners. It suddenly appeared to Lewis that if he didn’t apologize to Ainsley, he might turn into the bitter Mr. Grizzly one day.
“Well I will be back Grizzly,” Miss Vanderhiggin said. “I need to return Lewis here to his parents.”
“I ran away,” Lewis chimed in. “But I’m going to apologize to Ainsley. I wouldn’t want to become a bitter old man.”
Miss Vanderhiggin’s eyebrows rose to the very top of her forehead. Mr. Grizzly let out an angry growl and spun on his heel, retreating back to his front porch.
Miss Vanderhiggin peddled up onto Lewis’s driveway and walked him up to the front door of his house. She let Lewis ring the doorbell which sounded vaguely like church bells, and waited with him. The door opened shedding a pool of saffron light onto the two of them. It was Mr. Parker, tightly woven and snug in his bathrobe and plaid pants and fluffed slippers. His face was mixed with surprise and anger.
“Lewis,” he said, more in question than in a patronizing sense.
Miss Vanderhiggin nudged Lewis in encouragement.
“I ran away Daddy,” Lewis said. “But I’ve decided to be a gentlemen and not a Grizzly.”
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