Cracked

It was hot and dusty. It was summer. 1

Most summers were the same in this hot dusty place. People lay around for three months with the air conditioning on and the pool jammed with bodies so it was almost as hot as it was outside of the pool. Those who had to work did it grudgingly, sweating and grumbling and glaring at others, generating a wave of bad feelings. But at least it was summer. At least the students had three months of freedom and there was a free feeling to the air. 2

But this year, it would be different. Everyone knew it. Sure, the teenagers would party and the kids would go off to camp, and the babies would cry, and the lovers would love, and the haters would hate. Life goes around in a continuous cycle and there are some things you can never change. 3

But something else would happen. Something significant and nondescript.4

It starts when a man wakes up his wife, the woman he married because he loved her and now they both regret it sometimes, even though they’re happy. But the truth is the money was never there and it’s not there now and it’s hard to work every day, all day. The kids and the babies don’t get this, but they never do.5

They sit at the table made of wood. Neither of them remember where they got it, but it was acquired somewhere along the way. A gift maybe, or an inheritance.6

They drink water out of mugs and talk of the old dreams. She reminds him of the days when he had hair and he reminisces of her legs and high breasts of old. Dreams are like wine, and once you have had one glass, you just have to have another and another until you are so hooked that you can never stop.7

The dreams fill their heads and they can laugh, in the hot kitchen, in the dark so they won’t waste money by turning on a light. They can kiss and laugh and think that everything is all right, at least for tonight. They know tomorrow morning they will go back to the jobs they hate and the kids that cry and scream and the bills that stare up at them, demanding to be paid.8

But maybe they don’t have to go back, one says. Maybe their dreams can last forever.9

And then one phones a friend, who phones another and pretty soon the kitchen is packed with adults who used to be friends, back when they had time to be friends. And then laugh and drink what someone has brought, the kids asleep and they work day over.10

The dreams fill their heads, more dangerous than the spirits. But more so, they fill their hearts, which have been dusty for so long. 11

And someone suggests it, off hand because they worry if they say it seriously the laughter will be turned on them. And someone repeats it and someone else, until everyone knows it and thinks about it. There are legends. Stories. Tales they all believed, but have forgotten.12

Maybe. Just maybe…13

And they decide to try. They don’t talk about it, it’s just instinct. A signal sent in the way they tense and they stand and leave.14

They walk and they walk, to a hill with a river, brown with fish on the surface, never to swim again. The air is thick with factory smoke and the moon is gone. 15

And there they find a house. Small and wooden. There aren’t any wood houses anymore. It’s all brick and plastic and iron now. One goes in, trying to act skeptic, but hoping. 16

And the others, they wait. In the night without a moon, with their lungs burning and their eyes tearing. Hoping, yearning. Escape is so near…17

And the chosen one comes out and the legends are real. They pass the paper bag around and share it, just like kindergarten taught them. 18

And they laugh and they aren’t dreaming. They dance and they aren’t pretending. They kiss and the passion is there.19

They walk on and on, away. Away from every tax, away from every harassing boss, and ever problem that hasn’t been solved. And they are together, melded into one being.20

They walk and their feet don’t hurt and the night is warm and they don’t sweat and their stomachs don’t growl and they are happy. Truly happy. Ignorant and uncaring. Happy. And they walk on.21

And in the morning, a boy wakes up. He knows something is wrong. The house is to silent, the kitchen is still. Mom and Dad don’t leave for work for another hour. They are gone. He walks the length of the house, looking and searching. He calls and they do not respond. They are gone.22

He sits down and cries. Last night, he didn’t go to bed on time. He stayed up, reading a comic book with a flashlight. They knew and they were mad. They had left him. They didn’t want him anymore.23

He gets up and he runs. He wants to escape, get away from the terrible fact that he drove his parents away. They could be anywhere, dead or hungry. 24

He runs into a boy, bigger than he is. He tries to get away from the boy he knows very well. The same boy had taken money from him every day that year.25

But the bigger boy sees the little boy crying and puts a hand on his shoulder. Little boy breaks down crying and tells him everything, how his parents are gone. Big boy curses adults and everything they do. He hates them he says, and Little Boy agrees, but he misses his parents. He wish they’d come back.26

I’ll tell you a secret, Big Boy says. There’s a story I heard once. OF this place on a hill, an old wooden house. And inside is a man, and he can take you away from it all. You won’t get hurt and you won’t be lonely. Everything thing will be okay. They say it’s wonderful. You know what? I think it’s true. We could go there. We could escape….27