Aiden

Josie’s new babysitting gig for the Harpers down the street was perfect. The latest family to move into their cul-de-sac, was a family of three. Mr. and Mrs. Harper, plus their sole child, a seven-year-old boy named Aiden. No potty training, no teenage attitude, the perfect start to her babysitting business. Do well here, and I’ll be getting work from the rest of the neighborhood, thought Josie. The Harpers hired her for only two hours of work, for some Halloween office party at Mrs. Harper`s company. Fifty bucks! She was getting fifty bucks to hang out and watch television with a kid. Easy money. 

     Ringing the doorbell, she was excited for her night. Slowly the door opened, Josie expected to see Mr. Harper, a portly middle-aged man who smelled faintly of Old Spice and Marlboros. He was always cracking bad “dad” jokes, seeming to relish in his role as court jester of the family. Or Mrs. Harper, a forty something CEO of some big company who was always impeccably dressed in the latest fashions, perpetually tanned, and had the whitest teeth she had ever seen. Boss in her work. Queen in her family. She was way out of her hubby’s league.

     Instead, she was greeted by a ginger haired boy with baby blue eyes, kind of on the small side for his age, who stared intently at her. Beaming a smile at him, Josie thrust out her hand. “Hey, you must be Aiden. I’m Josie. I live down the street in that ugly yellow house by the dog park. We are going to have a lot of fun tonight!” A small hand gripped hers, cold to the touch. “Two-ten-twenty-four”, he said.

“Huh?” Josie was taken aback.  

“Aiden, why is the door open?” 

“Oh, hi Josie.”  

“I see you have met, Aiden. Thank you so much for this. Me and the missus really need a “night out”, Mr. Harper said while making air quotes. 

“No problem, Mr. Harper, thanks for the opportunity.”  

“Please call me Bob.”

“Ok, Mr. um Bob. I need to start saving for a car so…”

“I hear ya. Gotta have wheels nowadays, right?”, he said.

“Oh wait, I have to show you my costume!” Bob ran out of the living room and came back two minutes later, wearing a man-sized box and a jester’s hat.  

“I’m a joker! Get it, a joker!” A childlike look of glee spread across his face.

“Yes, you are, Mr., um Bob, a real card”, she said thinking maybe he wasn’t playing with a full deck.

“Bob, honestly stop scaring the girl. Sorry, Josie. He can’t help himself.” Mrs. Harper said.

“Ah, my queen! Are you ready to go?”, Mr. Harper said while kneeling at her feet.

“Yes dear, just let me talk to Josie about Aiden. Get in the car, I’ll be out in ten.”

Mrs. Harper pulled me into the kitchen as she gave me instructions about Aiden. “He is a quiet child”, she said. “Always has been, he takes everything in, doesn’t say much. The doctors assure us he will grow out of it. He loves dino nuggets and SpongeBob. You know how to use a toaster oven, right?”  

“Yes, ma'am.”

“Excellent, ok well if you need anything, just call this number” she said while walking out the door.

“Yes, ma'am.”

After dining on mac and cheese and dino nuggets, Josie and Aiden watched SpongeBob until she noticed him nodding off.  

“Ok, little man, time to brush your teeth and then off to bed.”

“Ok”, he said.

As he brushed his teeth, Aiden signed with his fingers. Two fingers, ten fingers with both hands spread out towards the mirror, then two fingers on one hand and four on the other one. 

“Aiden, what does that mean?, "Josie asked.

He didn’t say anything else, just gargled with mouthwash and left the bathroom.

Songs were next, Jenny Harper told Josie that Aiden loved itsy bitsy spider and twinkle, twinkle little star.  

As she tucked him in under his SpongeBob sheets, Josie kissed his forehead.

“Good night, Aiden. Sweet dreams.”

“Two-ten-twenty-four”, he whispered.  

He was only a little boy, but he had managed to unsettle her.

“That is when you will die”, he said staring into her soul the whole time.

With that he rolled over onto his side and fell asleep. Josie just sat there, still taken aback by the boy’s shocking prediction. Josie ventured downstairs once she knew Aiden was deep in dreamland. Trying to distract herself with late night television, her mind kept pulling her back to this boy’s fixation with her death date. 

Keys jingling. The front door opened. Mr. Harper stumbled into the house. The chill of the frigid autumn night air blustered into the room.

Bob whispered loudly. “How was he?”  

Josie could smell the alcohol from across the living room, a scent cloud assailing her nostrils.

“He was fine. All tucked away and sleeping like an angel”, she said.

Mrs. Harper emerged in the entrance and closed the front door.  

“Jesus, Bob at least close the door. It is October, for heaven's sake! Sorry, for the late hour Josie and for Mr. Harper. He has had a few too many cocktails tonight. Here’s a little extra for your trouble”, she said.  

Josie looked down at the crisp one-hundred-dollar bill in her palm.  

“It’s fine, Mrs. Harper. I’ll be going now.” Her desire to leave this house and Aiden’s creepy portent of her future seemed like everything right now. 

 “Wait, let me drive you home. It’s late and cold as hell out there.” Mrs. Harper kissed her husband on the forehead as he lay on the couch. 

 “Go to bed, Bob.”  

He mumbled something indecipherable.  

“Ok, Josie let’s go.”    

Her ugly yellow house loomed in the distance. Yet tonight it felt like sunshine on a summer day, how it soaked into your pores, your skin, your soul. Brightening your spirit, making anything seem possible. Tonight, it was a safe harbor in the storm, a lighthouse guiding her home. Barely waiting for the car to stop, Josie exited quickly. All she wanted to do was wash off this night in a long hot shower. Enveloped in the warm mist, sending all the bad vibes tingling on the back of her neck down the drain.  

“Josie, wait Josie”, Mrs. Harper beckoned from the driver’s side of her Range Rover.  

Josie turned to face her.

“Can you possibly be our permanent sitter? We have Christmas and New Years coming up, plus sometimes Bob and I just need a night out. What do you say?”

She needed the money. Maybe it would be ok. The back of her neck told her differently. Ignoring her body’s flight instinct, she answered.  

“Sure, Mrs. Harper, I’d love to be your sitter.”

The smile plastered across her face masked her inner dread. Get out! Get out! It was screaming.  

Christmas and New Years came and went uneventfully. Bob and Jenny were Mr. and Mrs. Claus for the Christmas party, Baby New Year and Mother Time for the New Years party. Aiden acted like a perfectly normal seven-year-old, no more predictions of impending doom. Josie kept squirreling away every cent towards a vehicle. She had her eye on a used 2018 Toyota Corolla that was gathering dust at Midway Motors in the center of town. It had about 100,000 miles on it. Gray in color, nothing flashy, dependable and safe transportation. Josie figured that by early March she might have enough for a down payment, hoping that her parents might cosign a small used car loan to ensure her freedom and theirs as well.  

“Let’s go Josie! Pick it up!” Her indoor track coach barked from the track edge. Josie loved to run. Since childhood, she loved the inner peace she got when running. It was like everything that was mucking up her day would just melt away. Just her and the wind, heart pumping, legs churning.  

Johnny Metcalf calling her a poop face in kindergarten. Missy Parker and the catty clique all throughout middle school. The C minus that destroyed her GPA in physics. None of it mattered when she ran. She was a machine, a perfectly fine-tuned machine. Scouts from D1 were supposed to be coming for the end of season meet in February.  

“Move Josie! You ain’t making D1 with that pace!” More positive reinforcement from Coach Dingley. He was from the school of the hammer shapes the iron. He wasn’t going to beat around the bush, no hug fests from Coach Dingley. His favorite statement was if you can’t handle me, the real world will swallow you up.

He was right, though. Move, Josie, you are the wind! Pushing down the final stretch, Josie felt unstoppable. The wind flying past her, no match for her grit and determination.  

“Nice Josie! Way to finish strong! Gotta take a few more seconds off before the big meet though.”  

Sweat poured off her body, bent over trying to catch her breath Josie knew she had it in her.  Just gotta push a little harder every time. A little bit at the start, a little in the middle, pushing to my limits for that goal. Eight hundred meters wasn’t a sprint or a marathon, but a little of both. Can’t go out too fast or too slow, pace is everything. Start strong. Stay slightly ahead of the pack. Then burn it all down the stretch. Life lessons, coach says, if you don’t show up, you won’t show out. No one ever won anything by doing the status quo. Push the boundary, push your limits, push to excellence.

February 10th, 2024, the seven-year-old seer said it was Josie’s death day. Just to be on the safe side, she performed an award-winning performance of "I’m not feeling well my tummy hurts" to her parents. Josie took a sick day from the world. Binge watching her favorite shows. Binge eating her favorite foods. If this was her last day Josie was going to enjoy it.  

Beep, beep, beep, beep. The red flashing numbers screamed six am. Josie had fallen asleep, empty wrappers from packages of sweet treats ringed her bed. 

February 11th, the little man was not prophetic. She was still here. Alive and kicking. Well, alive at least. Her cell phone rang. She let it go to voicemail. Josie readied herself for the rest of her life. She performed all the morning rituals, breakfast, shower, et cetera. On the walk to school, Josie listened to the message.  

“Hey, um Josie. This is Tom Pendleton. You know from school. Um, I was wondering if you weren’t doing anything for Valentine's Day if, um, you would like to go out on a date or something?” Long pause, followed by “hope to see you at school today, bye.”

She felt her cheeks warm as they blushed at the thought of Tom Pendleton liking her. She had liked him since fifth grade, but he was so shy. I can’t believe he feels the same way. This day is looking up, she thought. Tom made it official during the first period, asking her properly. She said yes with a smile of a thousand suns. 

They had a lovely Valentine’s Day date. He picked her up in his 2023 Corvette, well his father's Vette, but that is splitting hairs. Flowers and chocolate. Dinner and a movie. Some rom com that Josie could care less about. She couldn’t stop smiling. She even fell asleep with a Chesire cat grin, dreaming of Tom Pendleton, his blue eyes and blond wavy hair, and the future possibilities.  

February 17th, 2024. The end of the season track meet, the champs. Josie was seeded third, but the top two runners only bested her by a half second or so. It was possible. Everything felt possible now. Her parents watched from the stands alongside Tom and his newly minted appointment to boyfriend status. He asked, she said yes, smiling the whole time of course. She felt invincible. Nothing was going to stop her. She was in lane five. Josie took a few practice starts, shaking out the nerves after each one.  

Runners take your mark.

Rocketing out of the blocks, it wasn’t her best start, nor her worst.  

At two hundred meters, she was fourth.  

I've got this. Pick it up Josie, c’mon now.  

At four hundred meters, she hung on to second by the slimmest of margins.  

Just one more to pass, maintain this pace.  

Six hundred meters, second again.

Find that next gear Josie, burn it all down, leave it all on the track.

Pulling with everything she had down through the last turn, pumping her legs down the backstretch towards the finish line. Leaning towards the tape. Too close to call. Exhausted, spent, nothing left in the tank. Josie collapsed onto the track, legs like rubber bands. She looked over to the giant time clock, 2:10.24. A beaming smile erupted onto her face.  First place, personal best, school record. Something’s wrong. Tightness in my chest. Can’t breathe. No, no, no.

Tragedy on the track today as the winner of the eight hundred meters, Josie Jensen, Bristol High senior, collapsed after taking first place. They are describing it as a cardiac event. Our thoughts and prayers are with her family and friends during this difficult time.