13
He hadn’t slept at all. He’d lain awake all night long, listening for his dad. Sometimes there’d been snippets of thoughts or feelings, but mostly…just a quiet. Not the empty quiet, though. Not that terrible, dark, empty silence. Something different, like a gentle presence surrounding him, accompanying him.
And an anticipation. Like how he felt too.
Toward morning, as he could see light begin to filter in through the curtains in his bedroom, the presence began to grow. And finally, by the time his mom knocked on his door to wake him up at seven, he felt a strange energy that he hadn’t felt before, and the words started to become much stronger, more clear, and without the heavy exhaustion that had always shrouded them before.
<<I can see the Sun, kiddo. And it’s so wonderful…because that means I’m almost home.>>Tears sprang to his eyes as he sat up in bed.
<<You…you’re really almost here? I…>> He reached up and wiped the tears off his cheeks just as his mom poked her head in the room. Her tired smile and slight darkening under her eyes reminded him that she’d been up most of the night too, and he felt his stomach drop. He had felt her awake, unsettled; on occasion, he’d even “heard” her crying softly. But he’d tried very hard not to pry.
And now, he just wanted to take away her sorrow and pain. He smiled as big as he could for her.
“Good morning, Mom,” he said. Her smile seemed to grow more genuine as their eyes met, and he felt her love hit him like a bright burst of sunshine, followed almost immediately by a wave of love from his dad.
<<So beautiful. Your mother is amazing, Jon.>>
<<She is. And she’s the best mom ever.>>
<<I always knew she would be.>>“Time to get up, sweetie. Your grandma is making blueberry pancakes for breakfast. Hurry so you have enough time to eat before the bus arrives.”
Jon nodded. “Okay, Mom. I’ll be down in just a few minutes.”
He dressed quickly in shorts and a T-shirt, hurried through brushing his teeth, and trotted down the stairs, all the while feeling that same energy and warmth from his dad.
<<Three hours?>>
<<Two hours, forty-one minutes, sixteen seconds.>> He glanced at the clock on the wall as he slid into his seat at the kitchen table, grinning from ear to ear, and his grandma almost immediately set a plate in front of him piled high with pancakes and eggs and sausage. She smiled back at him and leaned over to kiss the top of his head.
An intense ache from his father was accompanied by a single-word message.
<<Mom…>>“Boy, you’re in a good mood this morning, dear. Is something exciting happening at school today?”
And it was like she’d splashed a bucket of cold water on him.
School.
Right.
“N-no, Grandma. Actually, I…” He turned toward where his mom now stood at the counter, sipping her coffee while eating a piece of toast and flipping through the morning newspaper. “I can’t go to school today. I…need to…stay home today, actually.”
Surprise jumped at him from both of the women in the room, and at the same time, he felt confusion from his father, although the voice in his head stayed quiet.
“You
can’t go to school?” his mother asked, her eyebrows raised. “You
need to stay home?”
He nodded and lowered his gaze. He had no plan, no idea what he was going to say or tell them. He felt a strong emotion from his dad, which he somehow quickly identified as uncertainty.
<<I have to be home when you get here.>> Jon argued silently. And he felt agreement, but with a twinge of reluctance.
“I’m gonna need a bit more than that, Jon.”
He looked up from his pancakes, which still sat untouched on his plate. His mother had set down her newspaper and coffee and stood with her arms crossed over her chest, shaking her head slightly. He bit his lip and looked away again.
“I… It’s just that…”
<<Tell her the truth, kiddo.>> It was just a gentle nudge, and he felt all of his father’s love surround him. He closed his eyes. He wanted to tell her. He did. But…
<<I thought… I really thought she knew already.>>He shook his head. “No, I…”
<<No, I didn’t tell her. I…can’t tell her. I… What if you’re not real? I mean, I think you’re real, and I hope… But if I tell her, and then you’re not actually real, it would—>> He stopped abruptly as his mom sat down next to him at the table, her hand coming to rest on his shoulder.
“Jon, you have to go to school, sweetie,” she said softly. “I know it’s been a rough week, with everything that happened over the weekend. But…school is really very important, and unless you’re not feeling well, you’re gonna need to go to school.”
“I can’t,” he argued feebly. “I really need to be home when…” He felt tears in his eyes again, along with another gentle nudge from his father.
<<You can tell her, kiddo. I’m real, I promise.>>
<<That’s exactly what someone who’s not real would say!>>
<<Ha, well, I guess I can’t really argue with that.>>“When what, Jon?” There was an exasperation to her tone, and when he looked up at her again, he saw and felt how unbelievably tired she was.
<<I don’t have the energy to argue today… Please, Jon.>> A deep sigh, accompanied by a sharp pain in his head.
He frowned, jumped up out of his chair, and reached out to hug her. “I’m sorry, Mom. I just…don’t want to leave you today. I want to be home with you today. It’s…important to me.”
“Oh, Jon.”
Her arms wrapped around him, returning the embrace, comforting him. And with a twinge of guilt, he ignored the voice in his head telling him,
<<The truth, kiddo,>> and instead, he held her tighter and exhaled a shuddering breath.
“Please, Mom. Please let me stay home with you today. Just today. Please.”
Maybe it wasn’t fair to her that he beg like he was. But he really, really needed to stay home. And…if the voice in his head really was his dad’s, then in less than three hours, she would know the truth, and she’d understand.
He pulled out of her embrace and sniffled for good measure. “Please, Mom.”
<<That’s laying it on real thick there, kiddo. You could just tell her the truth you know.>><<You don’t know how much she’s been hurting!>> The words burst from him in anger, and he buried his head back in his mom’s shoulder as he pulled himself into her embrace again.
<<She’s…so sad. All the time. I…can feel it. I can’t tell her. I can’t.>>His dad didn’t respond, and a silence settled over the room again. He felt his grandma come up and kneel down next to them, her hand setting on his back. And his mom trembled as she let out a measured breath.
“Sweetheart…I’m sorry, but you really do have to go to school today. But how about I’ll pick you up after school, and we’ll go to the park for a bit. You can play at the playground. And we’ll grab smoothies from Mrs. Ellison’s shop. The weather is supposed to be—”
He shook his head. “No. No, I can’t—I won’t go today. I—I’m sorry, Mom.” Then he pulled away and took off across the room and out the front door, not bothering to put his shoes on.
<<Jon, what are you doing, kiddo?>>But Jon didn’t answer. He was too busy wiping the tears from his eyes as he ran down the dirt path toward the cornfields.
