Sage (manxman)

Chapter 1 - As Still as a Statue

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            The sun started to dip behind the beautiful mountains changing them purple, just like Ford’s eye. Opening the door Ford sneaked inside, he didn’t want his mother to see him. He could hear his mother rustling in the kitchen. His dad would be home soon and Ford could only imagine what type of conversation that would bring.

            Sneaking into his room Ford tiptoed to the closet opening it slowly and taking off his jacket and putting on a thicker sweatshirt. He quickly changed into his pajamas and them moved into the restroom out in the hallway. Looking at himself in the mirror Ford frowned his lip was cut and eye was black and blue. He had some bruises on his chest. Turning on the shower Ford hopped in and felt his body ache beneath the water. He turned it up all the way till the water was searing.

            Finished with his shower Ford opened the door from the restroom to see his mother standing there. “What happened?” Nancy, his overprotective mother, gasped and quickly touched his eye. “And your glasses!” She moved over to the sink as the steam flowed out of the restroom. She didn’t miss a beat.

            “I slipped at the museum.” Ford lied half-heartedly.

            “Ford,” Nancy turned around to see he had left the restroom as she followed him she came to his closed room door. “Are you being bullied?” She whispered through the door her short blond haircut bobbing on her head.

            Ford wrapped himself in blankets wanting to fall asleep. His head hurt and body ached and he felt like he was going to be sick. As about an hour passed the smell of his mother’s lasagna drifted into his nose. Standing up and moving into the hallway he cracked the door open to better hear was going on in the kitchen.

            “I’m just worried.” Nancy’s voice fluttered down the hallway into Ford’s ear.

            Another voice, deeper, stronger, responded, “He’s still figuring things out Nan, it will take some time…he’s smart, and,”

            “And he’s bullied Roger,” Nancy added as she rustled around the kitchen. “I know you like to avoid it or pretend you don’t see it.”

            “I do Nan,” Roger insisted. The stove timer went off and Nancy was heard pulling the lasagna out of the oven.

            “No, I’m not talking about the bruises. I’m talking about the low self-esteem, the depression,” Nancy let out a deep sigh.

            “You worry too much, he’s a resourceful boy.” A third voice, Ford’s grandmother-on his father’s side.

            Ford shut the door of his room and crawled back into his bed feeling sicker than ever. More time past and his body ached more than ever a knock on the door drew his attention. It creaked open and Roger came in carrying a plate of lasagna.

            “How are you holding up?” Roger asked sitting on the edge of Ford’s bed. Ford turned away and felt his father’s hand on his back. “I know it’s scary sometime standing up for yourself and others.” 

            “I don’t have any courage.” Ford whispered as his father rubbed his back.

            “Well, courage just isn’t given out,” Roger laughed and nodded, “but everyone is born with the potential to get it.” Standing up Roger moved to the door. “Eat the lasagna before it gets cold.”