Chance for a Child

Rheta Hughes seemed like a serene and sanguine woman, however, no one knew her. She would walk to her car every morning at 7:30 and would drive off to work, although no one knew where that place was. This was her routine every day, and then she would return at 3:30 of the afternoon. One morning she buoyantly exited her house and was greeted by morning fog that made the tops of factories disappear into somewhere else. She then looked at the front of her driveway and noticed that the newspaper that was regularly placed wasn’t thrown in a jagged position.

“Looks like Jos hasn’t come by yet.” Rheta whispered to herself, and with that, she got into her car and drove off, absconding into the fog.

Minutes later, the atmosphere changed. It waned away from neutrality, to frustration and strength. It didn’t take long before a short and stomping child could be seen through the vague air; Jos Huppe was on his paper route. Jos was an aggravated and livid child, who displayed this by viciously hurling the newspapers to people’s front lawns. He was apathetic to whether or not he shattered a window because as that was indeed his paper route, that was also on his way to school. He leaned his torso forward as he walked, imitating an angry dinosaur, and crushed any unfortunate insect that did its business below him. It was on that morning though, that he looked down to his Hotwheels watch and saw that he was going to be late, so in a slight instant, wind and momentum worked together to lift his shirt up a small bit as he ran, revealing a large bruise on his lower back.

At 3:30, Rheta returned home and as she stepped out of her car she saw Jos walk past her house from his school bus.

“Jos!” she shouted, “How was your school day? Did you have fun?” Jos looked at her with a look of ire.

“How many times do I have to tell you to leave me alone? You always call out to me and I don’t know you! So mind your own business, lady!” he screamed.

“Geeze,” Rheta said playfully, “Why are you so angry all the time? I just want to know how school was for you, we’re neighbors after all.” Rheta smiled and gave light to her soft maternity. She cared about Jos, even though she really didn’t know him because they never seemed to have the chance. Jos always pushed her away.

“Whatever, just go away already…” Jos then began to sulk and walked home solemnly. There was something there that pinched him at the neck and pulled at the skin. Something always seemed wrong, and his inner bitterness kept him from reaching out to Rheta even though they never really knew each other. Jos could tell that she was the kind of person who was willing to listen and give advice. Yet he always avoided her, and then he would experience the pinching at the neck again.

This happened every day since Rheta moved in a year ago, which was around the time his parents began sending him to his uncles when they were at work. It’s not that they didn’t want a babysitter, they just couldn’t afford one. So every weekend, Jos would go to his uncle’s house. But as he now knows: a man rich with money doesn’t always make a man rich with morality. Jos never explained to his parents how reluctant he was to go, but every muscle in his body tensed the second he woke up on Saturday mornings. He would dart his eyes around violently as they drove him.

He loved his parents very much, and they loved him too, but he thought that they would blame him for his uncle’s malevolence and claim he deserved it. He thought they would even call him a liar and a bad son, so he always remained silent in the back seat of the car and looked abruptly to the corners of the windows next to him to hold back any developing tears.

Ill-fated was Jos to not know that Rheta understood exactly what he was going through. She could relate perfectly and knew how to comfort him. It wasn’t until one night he ended up running away from his uncle’s house that he actually talked with her. It began with him running down the long road feeling even more trapped than ever and he just needed to leave. Or course the thought of him having to go back soon tore at his neck until the skin stretched so far he didn’t have the ability to feel anger towards anyone, just confinement. Jos ran until he reached a small park that resided next to a river, and he began to reflect. Finally, he saw a woman leaning forward on the fence, trying to get a good look at the glistening image on the lake that was only the moonlight lying on the water.

She looked over at him and they knew immediately that they knew each other. Jos choked up, trying to conceal his extreme distress.

“Wha-what are you doing here?’ he asked, surprised. And it was at that moment that every barrier that he kept up between them crashed to the ground.

“Well, you know the suburbs…they can get pretty boring with nothing interesting to look at…” she looked at him in deep though, “so what are you doing here?” she asked inquisitively.

“Oh…” Rheta saw that he was beginning to open up, because of his current situation, “well…I just wanted to take a walk too…I needed to get away-”

“From your uncle?” she asked. She said it with confidence, as if she had known it for a while.

“What? What do you mean?” he was so shocked, but the hot fingers that tugged at his neck began to relax.

“I know everything, Jos. But don’t say anything now.” She went on to explain about how she understood what he was going through, and how he would never get in trouble if he was to tell his parents everything. She looked at him with sagacity and spoke in a warm tone. Rheta went on about how, if he takes a first step, he would get his uncle into some deep consequence. Of course she made sure that he understood that if he didn’t confront his parents, school staff, or even the police, then his ankles and feet would rot in the stagnant water of vulnerability. Soon enough, they began to pleasantly converse about things, like school and friends, animals and toy cars, and as they talked, he realized more about himself and began to gain confidence. Eventually Rheta walked Jos back to his uncles, and when the morning came, he nervously awaited the arrival of his parents.

On the way home the windows didn’t even catch the reflection of the side of his eyes and he stared ahead valiantly. He then took a large gulp, which forced the clenching hand to leave him once and for all. So it was in the car, that he spilled everything to his parents. He sobbed as he spoke but he saw new hope as they pulled over in overwhelming confusion and grief, but they believed him. If only every family were like this.

By the time they returned home Jos had fallen asleep in the car. The ataraxia was better than anything he could have ever imagined. His mother gently lifted him out of their car and to his bed as his father made some angry phone calls to different people. A few days later, he walked his paper route again on his way to school. He didn’t over dramatize his steps, and he stood up straight with an inner calm. He lightly threw the newspapers to each yard, giving them recognition. He even got excited as he rounded the corner because he thought he would see Rheta on her way to work, but that’s not what he saw.

There was some old shoddy house with a rusted car in front. Nothing was the same and it was if she never lived there, and as it may be, she never did. Rheta wasn’t real to other people. She was created from Jos as a manifestation of the part of him that knew he had to confront before surpassing his shame that he felt for so long. He never wanted to think about how easy it would have been to tell his parents, because he was always too afraid and thought they would disown him. He couldn’t get in touch with reason.

So as Baffled as Jos was, he looked down to his Hotwheels watch once again and as he ran, wind and momentum worked together for a second time, revealing just a light tan color on his lower back.