Darkness. I hear a bottle break. The child stifles a gasp close by. The door to the bedroom opens a crack, and she looks into the semi-lit hallway. It looks huge, but it is familiar. I am the child. I see through her eyes.
Expletives are muttered in the distance, and heavy footsteps approach. The child backs away from the door as the footsteps get even closer, and she begins to whimper. Very softly at first, she begins a strange nursery rhyme.
"Now I leave myself asleep, I pray the Lord my body keep..."
The door is thrust open to reveal a large leather-clad man. Stark light from the hallway floods in. The child continues her prayer and is oblivious to him: "Please help me to hide from sight, let me escape into the night..."
The man takes a step towards her, frightening her into looking up at his silhouetted figure. Her prayer rises in intensity: "I pray that when I float up high, not fade away but safely ride..."
The man becomes angry. "Quit that."
The prayer reaches a frenzy, as if the child has become possessed. "If I should fade before I wake, I pray the Lord my soul to take..."
The man lunges towards her. "I SAID, QUIT THAT.."
Suddenly, I no longer see through her eyes. I pull out of her body to float above. I watch helplessly as her body goes limp and the man completes his lunge in a slow motion pace.
I float steadily and emotionlessly backward as he lifts her body and places it on the bed. I float right through the wall and down the hallway. Through the still open door, I see him unbuckle his belt. I jerk back and pick up speed.
I float past the family room, past the television showing some late-night movie on CityTV, past my mother lying asleep on the couch. I float through the ceiling, through the attic and the roof, and then out among the trees. I have finally found peace. I float higher and higher. Maybe I can reach the stars tonight!
A nagging sensation tugs at me. But I don't want to go back. Indignantly, I push still higher, until the house is nothing but a speck on the ground. The nagging increases, and I am almost unable to breathe. No, I don't want to go back. Desperate, I strain yet higher, until I feel the clouds around me. There is no air here. I start to fade.
Not fade away but safely ride. My own words haunt me. I can't go back. I struggle to suck in some air, and I lose control. I begin to plummet back toward the house, toward the pain, toward air. I resist with all my might, but the clouds are gone, and I can see it all now. It is first a speck but it grows larger and larger. I steel myself for the impact. I can't go...back.
*********************************************************
"Ames, get up. Cops!"
It's Panther. The cops have picked today to check on our hideout. Too bad. It was nice sleeping in the warmth for a few days.
"Grab Nic's stuff. C'mon."
My sneakers are already on. I peek through the crack in the door. Near the front of the warehouse, Cave and Dominic are taking the heat. Another cop is coming closer, looking around. I throw stuff scattered on the floor into my bag. By the time I look up, Panther is already out the window. I didn't even hear him leave. I toss my bag through the window, step on the rusty radiator and clamber after Panther. Puffing and groaning, I manage to pull myself up to the level of the huge window. A pair of hands from the other side pull my through easily.
"I've gotta quit smoking," I breathed, "how'd you do that?"
Panther gives me a sign to shut up and leads me down the fire escape. We take off into the chilly October morning. It was nice sleeping in the warmth for a few days.
************************************************************
"Can you spare any change?"
At the sound of my voice, the old man raises his cane in a defensive posture. Nic laughs, provoking a coughing fit. He is practically doubled over, and his spiked mohawk still doesn't move. Wow. He regains control of his lungs and takes another drag of his cigarette.
"Not him, he's some war vet. Thinks we should all have buzz cuts and be at boot camp or something."
I look at his hair with mock sympathy.
"Would they let you keep it green?"
"Shhh. We better get panning if we wanna eat today. How much have you got?"
I count the change in my pockets. "Two-fifty."
"I've got four bucks. Great. We only have half hour left in the lunch hour rush, and we can get a pack of smokes and a milkshake. Can you spare any change? They should have the money. We're just crowding them. I'll go over the other side of the street. Hey, cheer up. Just remember..."
"I know, I know. Look cold, hungry and lonely."
Not hard to do.
*****************************************************
"Amy? Is that you?"
I am cherishing my last smoke. I don't need this. I look up anyway. It is Mrs. Radomski, my grade eight English teacher.
"Just Ames." I say irritably.
"I almost didn't recognize you with your..." Say IT! "So, how are you?"
How the hell do you think I am?!
"Fine."
Silence.
"Listen, if you need anything, someone to talk to,...here's my number." Before I can do anything, she has scribbled her number on a piece of paper. She leaves.
I take a drag and get nothing but filter. Damn. My last smoke.
*********************************************************************
It's getting dark. It wasn't this cold when I ran away this spring. Hard to believe. Six months, and the nights just keep getting colder.
"Hey Nic,"
"What?"
"Let's hitch down to the States. Florida or something, then canoe to the Caribbean Isles."
"You kidding? Like they'd let us through the border."
Oh. "Have you tried?"
"Knew a couple of guys who did. One's in Juvie, and the other one,...never came back."
"So he made it?" I ask hopefully.
"Didn't say that. Just never came back." He gets up, giving me a turn at the warm restaurant ventilation shaft. "I'm gonna go look for Panther. He was supposed to find us a place to sleep tonight." His face glows red in the fading sunlight, and then takes off down the alley. The days are getting shorter now, and every night I spend outside, I feel a bit of my spirit leak out of me. There's not much left.
I recall when I was a kid, I used to float away. I wonder if I can do it now. I close my eyes.
Now I leave myself asleep, I pray the Lord my body keep...
The sounds of the night slowly diminish to nothing as a pervasive clam extends over my body.
Please help me to hide from sight, let me escape into the night...
With my eyes closed, I can still see my surroundings.
I pray that when I float up high, not fade away but safely ride...
I look down at my body, my face. It looks so peaceful, so content. I have not seen it that way for a long long time.
If I should fade before I wake, I pray the Lord my soul to take...
I explore the deepening darkness, intrigued by the numbness and lack of sensations. A familiar nagging tugs at me. I cannot breathe, but I no longer panic. I float through the night sky, riding the air. I don't feel cold anymore. No fear, no longing, nothing. I push further away, through the clouds.
Not fade away... Why not? What do I have to lose?
It becomes more difficult to form complete thoughts. I drift... further from the alley..
Movements disturb me. The chill envelopes me once more. But safely ride... I tremble violently as Panther rubs warmth back into my hands and arms. The feelings have returned, and their short absence make their renewal seem even stronger than before. Panther looks quizzically into my eyes, but the vacant disoriented stare I return keeps him silent.
He stands up and beckons me to follow him.
**************************************************************************
I am tired. Fifteen years old and exhausted to the marrow of my bones. I don't care about anything anymore, and that scares me more than any cop or drunk asshole with a knife.
I look at Nic, sleeping on his side to protect his mohawk. Not that it would move anyway. I don't know why he took me under his wing, or why he leaves the last smoke for me, or even why he gives me part of what he pans. Maybe someone helped him out when he first started out on the streets. He would never say it, but he would be better off without me.
Cave.. sometimes he's gone for weeks at a time, and every time he comes back with a new hairstyle. Last month, it was long and yellow; this week, the sides are shaved and the top is purple. If he gets a new shirt, he'll throw out the old one. I never find out where he gets the new ones.
If he came back and I wasn't here... I don't think he would even notice or care.
And Panther,...is Panther, and will always be. He is at the window, keeping watch. I don't think he ever sleeps. Fifty years from now, he will be still here on the streets, protecting the unfortunate, finding them places to sleep and eat, and he would not have aged one bit. Sometimes I think he transformed from a cat to a man.
************************************************************
I try to wake up. It is much colder than before. I try to sit up, but find myself paralyzed with chill. I close my eyes and send my awareness above me.
Now I leave myself asleep, I pray the Lord my body keep...
My body is in the room with Nic and Cave. It is more frail looking, skinny and pale than I remember it. It looks peaceful for a moment, but then is shaken by a coughing fit. Is that blood? Panther is no longer at the window. He must have gone prowling. Food for tomorrow perhaps.
I look away. It is more comfortable to look away from the person I have become. I float up out of the shack which has turned out to be our sleeping spot for the night. A quiet street, an abandoned house. While the neighbors sleep in heated houses and we... we are just here as intruders of the night.
There is movement at the end of the block. Panther? No, it's gang members. They stride toward our shack. Closer...closer...closer....
I must warn...
Please help me to hide from sight, let me escape into the night.
No,..I must warn them.
I float back into the shack. I see the mark we missed - the mark on the door frame which claims this as their territory.
"Nic, let's get out of here.."
Too late. I see my limp body move back and forth. Blood and glint of steel in the dimness of the room. I don't want to go back. Images lose focus and I pull further away from the scene.
In a fuzzy slow motion, I see bodies fall to the ground, and I float higher and higher.
If I should fade before I wake, I pray the Lord my soul to take...
