Sincerely Yours, No Matter Where

The Power of Friendship II

The forest swayed and bent to the wind. Trees creaked, groaned and crunched in protestation, filling the air with their sweet wood-scented cries. Their branches collided and scraped against each other, tearing off pieces as they fought against a sudden gust. When they snapped back into position, hundreds of leaves twirled and glided during their descent, before gently settling on their final destination. A fresh new layer of dark-green mottled the browning ground down below.

In the middle of a small leaf-strewn and treeless patch, a young boy stood, gazing up with wide-eyed wonderment. Leafy shadows cast on his face as they scattered all around. Absentmindedly, he brushed away the few that nestled on him. He craned his neck, while straining to capture the whole length of the trees ahead.

How tall they looked when compared to him. How they stretched upward, with their sharp ends poking into the sky as far as his eyes could see. If he were to climb them, would he find heaven at the top? Thomas wondered.

Strange sounds cut through the serenity and burrowed into his thoughts. At first, it was nothing more than an indiscernible noise, but slowly became more human-like as his lull began to fade. Wondering if it was his mother calling out to him from somewhere else in the forest, he looked around. It came again, louder and more shrill, containing no semblance of his mother's voice. He hadn't strayed far from the path and it seemed to be coming from somewhere nearby.

Curiosity guided him out of the forest's edge to an open space, where sunlight cut through the surrounding trees and broke off in segments. Momentarily annihilating the trees' elongated shadows, it splattered upon portions of the ground with erratic bounds, in a constant attempt to find a new spot to reside.

A short distance away, he spotted three boys surrounding a little blonde girl—with fists balled up at her sides and a reddened face. A tall, black-haired boy stood before her with a stretched arm holding something over his head. The unpleasantness of his voice permeated the air, and Thomas could hear the words "big baby" followed by some unintelligible heckling.

As he approached them, the little girl released a piercing scream that reverberated within his skull. He lifted his hands to cover his ears, but quickly removed them when he saw the boy aggressively push her. It made her stagger backward and tumble onto the grass. Her blue dress crumpled over her waist. She jolted upright and struggled to sit, while her hands awkwardly tugged on the fabric in an attempt to cover herself. Two of the boys pointed and laughed.

"Leave her alone!" Thomas yelled, as he ran toward them.

Glowering at the taller boy, he defiantly shielded the girl from him. The boy might've been older and taller, but that didn't give the big oaf an excuse to bully everyone smaller than him. If Thomas had to fight, he was prepared to give his all.

"Hey Trevor ... let's get outta here," one of the other boys nervously said.

Trevor stood with silent rage glistening in his eyes. He looked at Thomas up and down, predatorily gauging his opponent. Poking him in the chest, he leaned in and fixed his cold gaze on the smaller boy. Without so much of a flinch, Thomas jutted his chin and confidently stared back. Trevor blinked, his eyes lost their hold and indecisively shook back-and-forth.

"Fine." Trevor scowled and stormed off, leaving his two friends behind. They furrowed their brows and looked at Thomas, then at each other, silently asking a question among themselves. The tanned-skin boy shrugged and they scampered away.

Confused, but also wary, Thomas watched their retreating backs, until they disappeared further down the path. When he turned around to help the little girl, he was taken aback and the only thing he could do was smile bashfully at her.

She gawked up at him through a mess of curly blonde tendrils. It was such a profound look; an expression of gratitude mixed with a spark of adoration within her eyes, and he didn't know what to say. Blissfully unaware of what it all meant, and being a young boy at the time, it would take many years for Thomas to comprehend its meaning. So, like any other normal child would've done, he focused on childish things—beginning with an innocent and oblivious introduction.

"Hey, my name's Thomas," he said as he held out his hands.

"Hi, I'm Christina ...," she smiled, but her gaze slowly drifted away to a butterfly on the park's path. "Nooo, wake up. Wake up butterfly!" Her small finger gently nudged its crushed wing, but it didn't move.

Tears pooled in her eyes and rolled down her cheeks. A glassy drop reflected the sun, while it desperately clung to her chin. It fell and shattered on the oxidized-colored soil underneath, leaving a dark stain right next to one of her shiny blue shoes. More of them fell with increasing severity. It was just an insect. They could find others if they searched around the area, Thomas wondered to himself.

Understanding crept in when she looked up at him, crushed like the butterfly that laid on the ground. The importance of it was clear and no other insect might change her mood. His dark-brown eyes clouded with emotion as he shifted uneasily from one foot to the other.

"Thomas, wake the butterfly. Please?"

He didn't know what to do, nor why the butterfly wouldn't wake up, but an idea started developing in his young mind. "I got it! Wait, ok? Wait here. I'll be right back."

His steps quickened and loudly stomped the grass below, as he hastily looked around near the edge of the clearing. When he found what he was looking for, he reached down and carefully cupped it in his hands.

When he ran back to Christina, he held out a hand in front of her face. The sudden nearness caused her to twitch back and blink in rapid succession. A leaf rested on his palm, browning at the corners and yellowing in the middle. Its humid, pungent scent wafted into her nostrils. She stared at it in confusion and then looked up, wondering why he ran to grab a leaf and was now holding it in front of her face.

"Maybe it just needs to sleep? So, let's make it a bed and put it over there." He pointed to a tree in the middle of the clearing with a large hole in its trunk.

Gazing at it, she slowly nodded and gently placed the butterfly on the middle of the leaf. Her little feet briskly pattered behind him and the fabric of her dress made a large swishing sound when her arms brushed against it. "You think it'll work? Will it be ok?" She gripped the curled and rough edges of the tree hollow, lifting herself up to peer into the shadowy crevice.

He placed the leaf and butterfly into its temporary home. Its white wings twinkled dimly within the darkness, starry and other-worldly. "Yeah, lets go play somewhere else, so we don't make noise," he touched her hand and softly pulled her away. "My mom's always angry when I make noise when she's sleeping."

She giggled. "My daddy too! He puts this meanie angry face like this," her face scrunched and the skin on her nose wrinkled, while she attempted to imitate her father's expression. When she pulled down her lips, it completed an exaggerated and ridiculous look.

There was a moment of silence as he stared at her. The corners of his mouth twitched and fought the sputtering titter that threatened to escape it. His features, awkwardly tightened and flushed, gave way when he could no longer contain the fit of giggles that began to pour out from him. He buckled and grabbed his stomach, wincing in between the laughter. It was a contagious beautiful sound that filled the air and it made her quickly join him in the act.

Breathlessly, she finally spoke, "k, let me ask daddy if I can go play on the swings. Come." She grabbed his arm and led him down the path, pulling him along as she skipped joyously.

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