White Crayon

Page eight

I filled a pitcher with water as I walked outside to water the flowers in a pot beside the house. As I poured the water on the flowers, I heard a meow from behind me. I set the pitcher down, and turned around. A black cat stared up at me, and meowed again.
I blinked.
After a second of us just looking at each other, I took a step forward, my hand outstretched to pet the cats head. It recoiled, and turned around, running down the sidewalk. "Wait!" I shouted, putting the pitcher back on the front porch, and running after the cat. I chased it down the sidewalk, past my aunt Claire's house, past Freid's house, past Baley's house. The cat stopped at the neighborhood park, and sat out of reach on top of one of the playground structures. I sighed, and bent over, catching my breath.
"Rune?"
I heard yet another familiar voice from behind me, and turned around to see Jarleen looking at me, holding a bag of cat treats. "What are- Why are you here?" She tightened her grip on the bag, and looked nervous and confused. I smiled awkwardly and pointed to the cat. "I was chasing that little thing." I replied, sitting down on the bench nearby. "Is he your cat?" I asked, looking at the bag of fish shaped snacks. She shook her head, as the cat came down and rubbed its head against her legs. "No, but I named him. He comes to my house, and my parents feed him." She rubbed his head, "his name is Clover." She smiled warmly at the cat as it pawed at the bag of treats. I looked at the sky, and looked back at her. "I've been talking with Freid and Baley lately." I turned my gaze back to her, as she looked up at me, surprised. "We've become friends again, I think."
After I said that, a long moment passed in which Jarleen fed Clover, and I just sat in the bench, looking at the playground. Maybe when my parents come back, and when Mason gets a break from college, we'll have a block party and cook burgers and hotdogs. I thought, with a smile coming over my face as I closed my eyes, trying to imagine the scenario.
Jarleen walked over and sat down on the bench beside me, crossing her legs. The wood of the bench felt prickly and hard under us. The setting sun covering us like a blanket.
"What would you do," Jarleen asked.
"If I killed myself?"
I turned around to look at her, surprised. She didn't look back at me, she just stared at Clover, who was sitting atop of the playgrounds slide. Her eyes were sort of empty, like she lost the sparkle and desire to wake up in the morning, or the feeling that every dawn was a new day. Like she had finally lost the last thing, or person, and she just couldn't bother anymore.
I stared at Clover with her, and held my hands in my lap.
"I'd hold your hand, so that maybe you wouldn't want too."
I replied, and smiled up at the setting sun, which was painting the sky a charming orange color.
"And maybe you would hold mine, so I wouldn't want to either."