The Parrot & The Raven | Summer Horizon 070218

0834

The sun penetrated through the window and stabbed my eyes. It was a Saturday morning, which meant it was the beginning of summer break. I covered myself with a thin navy blanket decorated with yellow stars and yellower crescent moons to shade my eyes from the yellowest sunlight.

The alarm I had forgotten to disable for the summer started beeping, but I tried to ignore it and get some sleep I lost during finals week. Not that I studied though. I was too busy playing games until midnight. My report card shows that very clearly.

As I was starting to sink into a state of drowsiness, it unfortunately got cut off by yelling that came from the door.

“Ian!”

I jolted from the sudden cut in silence and saw my mom staring daggers at me. She had her right–I’m dyslexic so don’t quote me on that, palm on the alarm clock’s snooze button and her left–again, don’t quote me on that, hand on her hips to express her crossed emotions.

“How long do I need to listen to that obnoxious alarm before needing to come in here and turn it off myself? If you aren’t even going to listen to that alarm, why’d you buy it? You already have your phone for those kinds of things yet you still nagged for it. Also, stop playing games so late! Go to sleep early or—”

Her sharp remarks dulled and dulled as more and more of them flowed in through one side of my ear and out the other. Eventually, I completely lost track of what she even started yelling about and I started daydreaming about what I was going to do over this summer.

This was my final summer as an elementary schooler. I would be entering middle school this fall and that meant new school new people.

I didn’t really have that many friends back in elementary school—and didn’t particularly care for it, but I still didn’t want to be that one lame kid who did nothing over the summer. However, I also hated going out so that was a big problem for me.

“Anyways, I’m off to work now. I left a twenty on the kitchen table. Use it to buy dinner since I’ll be home late. Don’t use it for some foolish stuff like B-Bucks or whatever you kids are buying these days.” Mom said before leaving my room.

“Mom, it’s V-Bucks, and I don’t even play that game.” I murmured to myself.

With my mind now wide awake, full of hopes and plans, I got out of bed and prepared a bowl of cereal for breakfast. However, those very hopes and plans died out pretty quickly when I opened the window to let in some fresh air and a draft of blazing wind came in. I immediately shut it since I wasn’t able to change the thermostat and I didn’t want to deal with the heat. As I was about to return to my seat, the house phone started ringing.

Ring ring ring ring ri–

“Hello?”

“I am a kidnapper and if you want to see your child again you must send–.”

“Hi Daisy.”

“...”

“Uh… Hello?”

“How’d you know it was me? I swear I turned on that voice filter–”

“I can see the number before answering you know.”

“Oh… Anyways, wanna hang out today?”

“It’s too hot for that.”

“Aw c’mon, it’s the beginning of summer break! You’ve gotta do something fun don’t you?”

“Nah, I prefer my cozy and not burning hot home thank you very much.”

“I have volume 6 of Ravens.”

“… Be there in 10.” I declared, slamming gently on the telephone.

0843

I rushed outside, fighting to stay alive under the blazing heat and started walking towards Daisy’s home. Her house was a block down the street, then 4 left turns because the roads here are dumb. Technically we live close enough to where we can hear each other shout when we both open our windows–which we tested back in 4th grade and got in big trouble for from both our parents, but her house is nearly a fifteen minute walk even if I walk quickly.

Making it past the blue house, I made my first left, and headed towards the playground with the rusty monkey bars and slides with paint peeling off, where I made my second left. As I was about to make my third left right before the house with fifty too many windchimes that all ring together to create an inharmonic mess, I bumped into a random stranger turning from the corner.

“Oof!” I said out loud like a Roblox avatar.

I refocused my vision and was about to get up when I misplaced my right hand on the curb of the sidewalk. It slipped and I fell back down even harder. I landed on my head and it started ringing for a short while.

“Are–are you okay?” The stranger stuttered.

I faced up again to stare at a boy, tall, probably older than me, blond, and wearing somehow the exact same outfit I was: a white t-shirt with black jean shorts. He even had a bandaid on his right cheek. I got mine from somehow cutting myself with scissors during art class. I don’t know how he got his though. Hopefully it wasn’t because he was part of a kid gang or something like that otherwise I’m in big trouble.

Luckily, from his reaction and his way of talking, I don’t think he’s part of anything like that. Heck, he’s probably never even met or seen a gang in his life.

“Hey, are y–you okay?” The stranger repeated. This time, reaching an arm out.

I took it and got back up. Standing up, I noticed how roughed up his shirt was. Then I looked at mine. It was equally roughed up. To be fair, the ground is always covered in sand and dust.

“I’m fine.” I responded to his question that was asked 30 seconds ago.

Before I could do anything more though, I got hit with a sudden headache. My brain felt like it would explode any moment, making the boy’s shirt get even messier. I grabbed at my head and felt something wet. I looked back at my hand that had just touched the back of my head. It was read.

I started… Losing… Consciousness…

…

…

…

1107

I woke up to the sound of a fan whirring. It was okay at first, kind of like white noise or whatever it’s called. But, the sound started whirring not just in the air, but inside my head as well. It kept getting louder and louder and louder and– until it woke me up.

Opening my eyes showed me nothing more than a plain old ceiling. I lifted myself up but the headache still remained. I looked around and saw a pink Hitachi fan swinging around and blowing air around the room, A bunch of plants potted all around, and a boy with blond hair sitting on a chair next to my bed with his eyes closed.

Wait… my bed? No this isn’t my bed. It’s someone else’s–probably the boy’s. I felt around the back of my head to check for injuries but my hand got greeted by the texture of cloth. Most likely bandages.

I guess my movements were quite loud because the boy opened his eyes.

“Hello…?” I said with slight caution.

“H–hi, are you–you feeling any better? You were b–bleeding quite a bit. Actually not a bit. A–a lot.”

“Yeah, I’m feeling okay. I think. By the way, did you do this yourself?” I asked, pointing at the back of my bandaged head.

“Yeah. My–my mom was a nurse, so sh–she taught me a lot of first aid things since I was li–little.”

That’s nice. I thought to myself. Then, awkwardly long silence played out. I’m sure we both thought we had to say something or else the atmosphere would crush us both. But none of us spoke up. That is… until my phone rang.

“Hello?” I answered, putting the phone next to my ear. That was a mistake.

“WHERE ON EARTH ARE YOU?” Yelled a voice from the other side. It was Daisy.

“I fainted… I think.” I responded, turning my head towards the boy who nodded in confirmation of my information. Wow that rhymed.

“What? What do you mean by that?”

“I… fell on the sidewalk and must’ve passed out or something. Anyways, I’ll be there soon.”

“Are you sure you don’t need to go see a doctor?”

“Nah, I don’t want to spend $1000 on like two stitches.” I said, hanging up the phone.

“Technically a stitch–stitch is $750 so two–two stitches are $1500. Well, a–at least in some hos–hospitals.” The boy added, overhearing my conversation.

“What a rip-off.”

“Yeah, I agree. By–by the way, can I ask–ask for your name?”

“Ian. Yours?”

“Thom. T–Thom with an H.” Thom replied.

We bantered back and forth a bit more. This time, there wasn’t any of that awkward pressure in the air squashing me like an anvil pressing down on hard eggs.

We shared our name. We shared our age–apparently he was the same age as me. We shared our deepest darkest secrets–which flavor ice cream we like most because one of us mentioned how hot the weather was. Living in Arizona, that’s one thing literally everyone can agree on.

1315

Thom turned out to be a really soft kid. Contrary to my first impressions that is. At first, he seemed like he would fit in as your generic middle school bully that appears only in Hollywood movies. But he’s not like that at all.

Thom said he lived with his dad. I didn’t ask about his mother but I felt that I knew. Especially when he was using the past tense every time he mentioned her–Language Arts wasn’t a complete waste in times like these. I was able to relate to him though, since I only had my mom as well. We talked a bit about the fortunes and struggles of being raised by a single-parent. They give us more freedom, yes, but they are also a lot more busy, and we aren’t able to spend time with them as often. Thom’s father works at a game company–cool beans, and he had a super decked out computer in his room.

I thought of asking him if I could have a quick go on it, but I remembered that I told Daisy I’d be over to her house soon.

“Uhm, so I’ll leave now. Thanks for helping me out I guess.” I say.

Before Thom could say anything, I left the house. I stepped out onto the front yard and started walking down the street. I knew where exactly I was.

Thom’s house is the one at the end of the street with the green roof. It was unoccupied before I was born, and that’s all I knew it as. A ghost house. But it seems that there was someone living there all along.

1322

Before long, I was in front of a lawn decorated with colorful flowers and ungroomed blades of grass that poked my legs when I wasn’t paying attention. I knocked on the birch door four times. The door unlocked after the sounds of footsteps closing in from the second floor, tumbling on the stairs, rustling in the kitchen, and heavy panting sounds. In that order.

“Hi!” Daisy greeted me in front of the door. She seemed a little out of breath.

“Are you okay? I heard tumbling.”

“Nah… I’m fine. Well, come on in, the book is on the third floor. The Attic.” She responded, limping her left leg. Well, at least I know the son of a nurse who knows some first aid.

Oh yeah, Daisy’s attic is really cool. Her father works in carpentry or something like that and he helped her remodel the attic into her dream room. It has custom bookshelves with all our favorite comics, a TV with both me and Daisy’s favorite retro game consoles under it, and a TON of storage for all the things that Daisy tends to hoard. During third grade, exterminators had to be called because Daisy’s locker was so full and there was a colony of rats AND raccoons living there. Don’t even ask me how a raccoon got into our school.

Daisy’s minor hoarding problem aside, she had as promised the latest volume of Ravens. We spent a solid hour reading it and then another debating who the plot twist villain could’ve been.

The rest of the day, I picked up a bunch of books from Daisy’s shelf–and holy cow does she have a lot of books that they’re probably worth more than our house, and dove deep into their own respective universes. Daisy did the same, and we had a blast. Though no words were exchanged, we communicated more than we ever did at school. It also helps that Daisy and I read most of these books at least three times by now. They’re comics. They don’t take that long to read.

2035

The sun was clocking out for the day. The sky was turning copper. I looked up from the mountain of books I read today and realized it was time to go home. Yes, this attic has a window. I want to live here so much. Unfortunately, this isn’t my house.

Daisy walked me down all the way back to the front door and I waved her goodbye and headed straight for home. We didn’t say goodbyes or anything since they sound too sappy.

Overall, I think today was an interesting day. I can certainly talk about today when someone asks how summer was.

I’ll be leaving out what I had for dinner though. Sorry mom, your porridge tasted really grey.