Newborn

Chapter 22: Just In the Neighbourhood

Aaron Hart

          

 I’m a stern believer that Saturday mornings are made for sleeping in.  I know there are those who think it’s the perfect time to get errands done.  Maggie is one of those productive elite, but I’m not.  Honestly, I would probably sleep in every day if I didn’t have to get up for school.  So, when the doorbell rings early on a Saturday morning, I’m not awake enough to answer it.

I can hear my Mum’s feet scurrying down the hall.  It’s probably some sort of salesman or something.

“Aaron!” my Mum calls out.  “Your friend’s here.”

I don’t know what friend she’s talking about but I force myself out of bed.  “One second!” I shout.  I look all over my room for anything half decent to put on.  I grab my jeans off the floor.  There’s an okay t-shirt on my chair.  I look in the mirror for a second and half fix my hair.

Who is it? I think to myself.  Although, I just assume that it’s Maggie.  I wonder if she found something about the Sword.  Why didn’t she call?  More importantly, Why didn’t she call after ten-thirty?  Is everything alright?

I pull open my bedroom door and look out to the front of the house.  Damien is there, talking to my mother.

“Hi,” I say.  I would have been okay with Maggie seeing me like this, but I’m not quite sure I’m at the bed-head phase of my friendship with Day yet.

“Hey,” he says.  “I’m sorry, did I wake you up?”

Why is he here?  I kind of imagine there was a time, up until the late nineties or something, when people would just drop in.  But, in the twenty-first century, I would like to think that a courtesy call or text should generally precede a visit. 

“It’s okay,” I say.  “I was kind of already up.”  I lie, but my hair tells the truth.

“I’m sorry,” he says.  “I was just in the neighbourhood.  I wanted to talk to you for a minute.”

“Sure,” I say.  “Do you want to talk in my room?”

My Mum doesn’t intervene or anything.  Sometimes she can get a bit nosey.  Day walks over and I close my door.

“I wanted to talk to you about that thing that happened in the woods the other night,” he says.  I’m glad we’re having this conversation in private.  I would hate to have my mother wonder what ‘the thing that happened in the woods’ with this random boy was.  I would hate it even more if she knew the truth. 

“I’m sorry,” he says.  He seems upset.  “I didn’t mean to leave you behind.  I was just running, and the next thing I knew, you weren’t there.”

“And you didn’t see anything strange?” I ask.

“Besides the crazy wild animal?”

“I mean, did you see someone else out there?” I say.  I don’t know Day well enough to tell him anymore. 

“I didn’t see anyone, did you?”

“No,” I say.  I don’t know how to tell him that I saw a glowing man.  “I was just worried that there was someone out there that we didn’t see.

“I think everyone’s alright,” Day says.  He smiles at me, “But I was scared I let the first decent guy I met in this town get eaten by a bear.”

“A bear?”

“I didn’t see it well, but it was a little big to be a wolf.”

I’m a city boy.  I’ve never seen a bear or a wolf.  Maybe I’ve seen them at the zoo, but I haven’t been to the zoo since I was seven.  I really should go there sometime.  They have a cool monorail.  I make a mental note to mention it to Maggie next time I talk to her.

“I really wouldn’t know,” I say to Day.  “What are you up to today?”

“Nothing really,” he says.  “Do you want to work on our project?”

It’s too early for school.  “Do you want to watch TV?”

“That could work,” he says.  He has a great smile.

There’s a television in my room.  Me and Day are on my bed.  We lean against the headboard so that we’re both sitting up facing the TV.  Our arms are touching.

I start to flip through the channels.  Nothing good is on.  I stop at one of the stations.  It’s a cartoon.  I miss Saturday morning cartoons.

I turn to the news.  They’re talking about a senator who had a stroke this week.  It seems like filler news.  There’s a reporter talking to his wife.  Apparently the stroke was a shock.  He ate healthy and exercised and all those things people should do.

Day and I talk.  I barely pay attention to what we’re actually saying.  His arm is warm.  Our hands are touching now.  I feel his hand come and take mine.

I look over at him.  He looks at me.  He smiles.  I smile.  My phone rings.

Damn it.

I don’t want to answer it.  Damien looks away for a second and laughs.  So do I.  The moment’s kind of ruined.  I look at my phone.  Maggie’s calling.  It’s exactly ten-thirty.  She knows me too well.

“I’ll be back in a second,” I say.  I go into the hall to talk to Maggie.

“Hi,” she says, “Sorry for waking you up, but I have an idea about how to find it.”

“Find what?” I ask.  My mind’s still elsewhere.

“It,” she says.  The Sword of God.

“Of course,” I say.  “Do you mind if I call you back? I am kind of busy at the moment.”  Yes, I should have priorities.  My best friend who’s helping me on a personal quest should come first.  But there’s a cute boy in my bed and I’m a teenager.

“Okay, but are you free tomorrow afternoon?” she asks.

“Yeah,” I say.  “I’ll call you in an hour or two.”

We say goodbye and I head back into my room.  Damien’s surfing through the channels.

“It was just Maggie,” I say, sitting back down on the bed beside Day.

“Anything going on?” he asks.

“Nothing really.”  I look over at him.  He turns and looks at me.  “She isn’t my girlfriend or anything,” I say, because apparently I don’t know how to talk to human beings.

He laughs, “Yeah, I didn’t think she was.”

“I’m sorry.  I guess we don’t give off the couple vibe.”

“No,” he says.  “You definitely don’t.”  He looks at his watch.  “I actually have to get going.”

I can feel something in the pit of my stomach drop and tighten.  I can’t believe I just messed things up.

“Okay,” is all I can muster the will to say.

“Are you free Tuesday night?” he asks.  “Do you want to see a movie?”

“Yeah,” I say.  I feel all the tension release for a second.  Then I realize what’s going on.  I’ve never been on a date before.  Is he asking me out?     “I really like movies,” I say.  I really like movies? I just need to stop talking sometimes.

 He knows I’m nervous.  “I do too,” he says in a kind of reassuring way.