Seasons in Change

The seasons had started to change a few weeks ago, slowly at first. Leaves shifting from green to orange, red and yellow, the gentle autumn breeze making for a prismatic snowfall as they fell from now naked trees to the Tacoma streets below. An oddly pleasing crunch accompanied the last of the moving trucks which pulled up in front of Susan's house, large men in boots and winter caps coming out. Harold, Susan's father, had been barred by Susan's mother, Rachel, from moving any more furniture out by himself, a few days ago tearing a ligament while carrying his La-Z-Boy recliner up from the basement.

"I'm fine, honestly", Harold said yesterday when they brought him home from the hospital, limping up the walkway, a crutch in arm.

Susan first became aware of "the doom" (a term coined by her best friend Chester, who had a flair for the dramatic) a couple weeks ago, but really, the rumblings had been there for longer. Hushed conversations held in other rooms, more dinners at home instead of eating out, blockbuster instead of the movies. This simmering came to a boil when, after taking them for an all day play date at the beach, Rachel took Susan and Chester to a chowder shop. Lo and behold, there sat Harold at the back, two empty bowls next to him and even more empty sake glasses. It was Friday, nine in the evening, and Harold had told Rachel the firm was forcing him to burn the midnight oil once more. On the way home, Rachel and Harold shouting in the front seats (Chester unfortunately witnessing this, his body half sunk in his yellow raincoat), the outside a light chatter of gentle rainfall which had just begun, the truth came out. Harold had been laid off two weeks ago. The firm was bleeding money, and sacrifices had to be made. When Rachel had finally pulled the truth out of him, Harold began to cry and blubber the rest of the drive.

"I told you", Chester said, biking through the woods with Susan, Susan having one more day since the move was postponed. "They're calling it the financial crisis. My dad‘s been working long hours, and staying late to help his co-workers with all the paperwork. That’s why my mom’s divorcing him. All the the long hours.”

Chester’s parents, in addition to also moving like Susan's, except next month instead of tomorrow, were also going through a divorce. Chester believed it was because his father simply worked too hard, but his mother believed the strange hours after work spent with Ms. Jones wasn’t for the workload. And after spying on his father leaving a grocery store one day, and asking the cashier what he had bought, (to which she replied a pack of extra slim condoms, Vaseline and two Hershey chocolate bars), this suspicion turned into conviction. Now Chester's dad was kicked out like a delinquent teen and forced to stay with his brother for the time being in Newport. A travesty of justice, Chester believed.

"Where do you think you’re headed?", Chester asked, huffing as they peddled up the incline.

"Colorado, I think. My mom says she has family up there. Well probably stay with them for awhile before we get our own place.”

"Colorado? What‘s that like?"

Susan shrugged.

"Don’t know. My mom said there’s a lot of mountains there though. No ocean though, which sucks.”

"No oceans?", Chester replied, aghast. “My moms moving us to Maine. Things are already bad, I think not having clam chowder shops would just be too much."

"I'll still be able to get clam chowder", Susan replied, slightly offended.

"Yeah, cans from the store. Not the same."

Susan didn’t retort, in part due to being out of breath from the steep uphill slope, and partly because what Chester said was true. It wouldn't be the same.

They continued to trek through the trail, which weaved through the forest and deeper into the woods, the sun high above and poking through the canopy as if sneaking into forbidden territory. The smell of the sea still carried here, salt and fish in the air, which clashed with the pine comb and dew of the woods. They reached a cliff, which in reality was just a steep and muddy slope which gave way to muddy sand and then ocean underneath. They found a suitable spot at the stump of a tree and let their bikes fall, talking off their backpacks and pulling out snacks. Susan ate a turkey sandwich, which included mayonnaise, salt and pepper, lettuce, tomatoes, sliced purple onions and sliced avocado, an apple in another bag. Chester ate two blueberry bagels, plain shmear on top.

"Bagels?", Susan questioned, her words muffled as her cheeks were stuffed with food like a chipmunk.

Chester nodded, swallowing a bite.

"My dad got them for me from the kosher bakery in Seattle. He said to consider it a farewell gift."

"It's a nice gift", Susan said, not entirely sure how else to respond.

"It'll be gone in ten minutes", Chester responded.

They sat in silence, munching. The sun had now started to set, dipping behind the sea which seemed to stretch on for eternity.

"What do you think happens now?", Chester asked.

Susan looked at Chester, her brows furrowed.

"What do you mean?"

Chester shrugged.

"I mean, everything's changing. For the worse it seems, I don't know. My mom says I'm a negative Nancy, like my dad."

"I don't think you're a negative Nancy", Susan said. "Just...I don't know. Mature. I think you're mature for your age."

Chester burst into laughter, some bagel flying out his mouth. After a moment, the laughter chugged out and the quite returned in its place.

"Everything is just...changing so fast. I'm moving...you're moving...hell, half the school is moving. No one hangs out anymore, and now we won't ever even get the chance."

Susan looked at Chester in silence.

"Do you think we'll still be friends?", Chester asked. "When we're no longer in the same school? Like years from now, do you think we'll still be talking?"

Susan chewed for a moment.

"I think...I think so. If we try, and keep calling each other, I think so. I mean, you're my best friend, why wouldn't we?"

Chester nodded, not turning his face from the ocean in front of him, the sea now a soft gold as the last vestige of the sun began to set.

"When I switched schools during fourth grade, I was really upset", Chester said. "My dad told me not to take it so hard because he was no longer friends with kids from fourth grade. In fact, he said he was no longer friends with kids from high school. He told me you don't make your true friends until you’re in your twenties. Pete. That's my dads best friends name. He didn't meet him until he was twenty-three, when he was on a internship. That means, according to him, I won't meet my best friend for at least eleven more years. A little over a decade spent friendless."

Susan looked at the ocean, not saying anything.

"Your dad also lives with his brother and cheated on his wife", Susan replied.

Chester laughed, and turned his head to Susan.

"That's not true", Chester said, though in his eyes Susan saw he knew it was.

The last top remnant of the sun was visible, the rest sunk into the depth of the ocean. The ocean was now ruddy, and the wind had picked up, salt permeating the breeze. Chester inched up his windbreaker, a cloudy breath escaping when he exhaled.

"We oughta head out soon, its getting dark."

"I still want to be your friend, Chester. Even if everything's changing", Susan said.

"Me too", Chester said, placing his hand over Susan's. "Even if everything's changing."