THE BALLOON BOY

Jasper Engstrom frowned as he placed his phone back in the charging station. He crossed the living room to the large front picture window and gazed out at the private road that ran in front of their house. It was a beautiful Autumn day. The trees were in peak form, alive with vibrant splashes of orange, red and yellow. The leaves hadn’t begun to actually fall, so the brilliant green of the well-tended Engstrom lawn completed the perfectly seasonal setting.  Jasper was looking but he wasn’t seeing what was in front of him. He was thinking, sorting.

“Jasper? Who were you talking to?” Cindy Engstrom entered the living room, wiping her hands with a dishtowel. 

Jasper didn’t answer immediately.

“Jasper?”

“Connie.” Jasper turned around and faced his wife. “She asked if she could drop off the kids.”

Cindy looked at her watch.

“Now?”

“Soon, I reckon.”

“Well, that’s fine, I suppose, but this really is last minute. I wonder . . .”

“She said she’s leaving Tim.”

Cindy moved to the living room couch and sat.

“I was afraid of this.”

“You knew about it?”

“Not for sure. I knew there was trouble. Or, rather, I sensed it. You know how closed off from her feelings Connie can be.”

“Did she say anything to you?”

“Nothing specific. I just know our daughter. I thought I could read certain signs, but getting that girl to express her feelings is like pulling teeth.”

“Oh, I remember. I was around for her teenage years. I have the acid reflux to prove it.”

“She hasn’t improved much since then.  And, as I recall, you were lucky. At least she’d talk to you. She avoided me like the plague.”

“Just how was I lucky? I wasn’t near equipped to deal with a volcanic teen who never came out with what she was going through. Just hints and mass confusion’s what I remember. I’d wind up taking her to the bowling alley and just let her take it out on the pins.”

“What’d she say just now?”

“’Dad, I don’t want to burden you and mom, but would it be all right if I drop the boys off with you in a little while? I can’t say for how long but I’m leaving Tim and I don’t want them to be affected by what’s about to happen.’”

“Affected? Classic Connie.”

They were both quiet after that.

“Well,” Cindy stood. “I’d better get the boys' room ready.”

Jasper retrieved his phone and car keys. “I’ll make a quick run to the market and pick up a few things for the boys.”

“Remember Ethan’s allergies.”

“No peanut products. I remember.”

“Good man. I think we’re in for a bumpy enough ride without a trip to the ER.”

“Agreed. You need anything?”

“Hurry!”

Jasper grinned and was out the door.

* * *

Driving alone in the car, Jasper chose to listen to his own thoughts instead of Bluetooth or the radio. He and Cindy hadn’t voiced the real root of Connie’s struggles with emotion; there was no point. They’d picked at that wound long enough, and both had learned how to ride whatever wave Connie was on, or at least survive it.

All Jasper had to do was conjure his son’s name, Jonah, and he immediately pulled the car over and parked. He reached into the glove compartment for some spare napkins kept in there, blinking furiously to keep the tears from spilling until he could locate them. He initially tried composing himself but then gave up. His shoulders heaved, his sobs let loose. He covered his face with napkins and wept. 

Jonah was Connie’s twin. They’d had a difficult time starting a family, so when the doctor told them there were two heartbeats coming from Cindy’s monitor, they couldn’t have been more thrilled. They’d been blessed with an instant family.  Connie and Jonah were inseparable, beautiful kids. They’d enjoyed all their milestones together, Jonah following Connie’s lead, having been born eleven minutes after his sister; something Connie never let him forget.

When Jonah was nine, he played Little League baseball. Jasper was one of the team’s coaches and the family never missed a game. It was during Jonah’s effort to steal a base that, as he slid safely into third, discovered afterwards he couldn’t stand. He’d broken his ankle.  It was during his treatment that the doctors discovered the cancer that would continue to make Jonah’s bones brittle and his blood deteriorate.  Leukemia became an unwanted member of the family. It left and took Jonah four years later.

Would he ever produce enough tears to run out of them, once and for all? Ah well, Jasper thought when he could think, he’s worth it. He blew his nose, took two deep, cleansing breaths, told Jonah he loved him, and got back on the road. 

* * *

By the time Jasper returned with a kid-friendly bag of groceries, the boys had been dropped off and there was no sign of Connie. 

“Grandpa! Grandpa!” 

Jasper put the bag down and knelt just in time to fill his arms with squirming boy joy.

“Hey, guys! I’m so glad you two are here!”

Connor was seven, Ethan was five and they were endowed with all the energy of a pen full of puppies.  They began to jabber, eyes wide as saucers, their words blending into a barrage of excited snippets. Jasper tried to keep up, giving them his full attention.

“Mom said . . .”

“We get to stay with you. . .”

“Overnight . . ."

"Like a sleep-over . . .”

“Will you take us to the park . . .”

“Like a vacation . . .”

“Will you show me . . .”

“Mom said . . .”

Jasper laughed and tried to settle them down.

“Guys. Guys. One at a time! Wait a minute now . . . what is that I smell? Is that chocolate?”

The boys looked at each other, burst into giggle fits and, pointing to the kitchen, yelled in unison, “It was Grandma!”

“Someone call?”

Cindy, with the wide-eyed expression of innocent guilt, poked her head into the room. 

“Oh, good! Are those the groceries? Let me get them. I’m about to start dinner. Who wants to help?”

“Me! Me! I do!”

Little chocolate-smeared hands shot up and the boys disappeared behind their Gran into the kitchen. It was then that Jasper found chocolate fingerprints where the boys had hugged him. He deeply inhaled a sleeve and took in all that rich sweetness.

* * *

At the dinner table, Connor and Ethan swung little legs under the table as they fought their cobs of corn smeared with salty sweet butter to manage some into their little mouths and not simply all around. Cindy had offered to cut the corn off the cobs to make it easier to eat, but the boys insisted, no, mom would never allow this kind of fun (or mess). They wanted to try eating like grown-ups do.  Macaroni and cheese was supposed to be easier, but still the boys managed to wear some on their foreheads and down their sleeves. No wonder they loved eating with their grandparents.

It was at the stage of the meal where both boys were using their carrot sticks as swords that little Ethan, out of the blue, announced, “Mommy’s going away, and daddy’s not going with her.” The idea that he’d said it so matter-of-factly was paralyzing to both Jasper and Cindy. 

Connor poked a carrot at Ethan. “You dunno know that. You dunno what you’re talkin’ about, Ethan!”

Ethan used his carrots to demonstrate. He changed the pitch of his voice for the two players.

Lady voice: “I just can’t do this anymore.”  

Man voice: “What you talkin’ about?”  

Lady voice: “I’m leaving, that’s what.”

Man voice: “No, you’re not.”

Lady voice: “You can’t stop me.”

Man voice: “I don’t unnertan'.” 

Lady voice: “No, you don’t! Goodbye.”

Ethan laid the carrots on his plate.

“That’s what happen.”

Jasper and Cindy glanced at each other, then turned their attention to Connor. He stared at his plate, expressionless.

“May I please be excused?”

Cindy thought of mentioning dessert, but then Jasper quickly spoke up.

“Of course you can, Con. Go wash that face of yours.”

Cindy followed up with, “I’ll help you.”

And then came the expected/unexpected.

“I don’t need any help.”

Connor’s chair screeched as he slid it back and left the room without saying another word.

Ethan’s loud, “I’ll come with you,” was met with an even louder, “NO!”

Ethan looked at Jasper and Cindy with genuine concern and confusion.

“Did I do something wrong?”

* * *

That was a tough night, to put it mildly. There was a palpable unease as the evening went on. They all carried forth with their individual routine comforts. The cleanup was slightly drawn out as the adults considered their options how to deal with this sudden new series of events. Dessert was allowed in front of the television, provided bath time and clean teeth immediately were to follow. Storytime was offered but Cindy caught Connor’s stern expression aimed towards Ethan and the polite, stoic “No, thank you” that followed from both. She overheard muffled conversation between the two after lights out. It all just made her sad. 

Later, in bed, Jasper kissed Cindy good night and whispered, “Sleep tight, darlin’. I have an idea that might help the boys – and tomorrow I’ll give it a try. There’s nothing to lose here, that’s what I’m thinking.”

Sleep wasn’t easy for either, but both did their best. They’d learned long ago to look to the next day and hope that it might be better.

* * *

The next morning, Cindy, as was her usual practice, was up before her guests, with coffee brewing and the oven emitting the promise of something warmly cinnamon. Jasper was already up and out, as he had explained, wanting to set his idea into motion.  Cindy had asked no questions but raised a hand with fingers-crossed right before she grabbed Jasper to give him a kiss as he was on his way out the door. 

It was about an hour later when both Connor and Ethan entered the kitchen still in their pajamas, Ethan with a smile and Connor with a sulk.

“Good morning! How did you two sleep?”

The silence that followed was answer enough. Cindy went to the oven to check on breakfast.

“Cinnamon rolls!” Ethan exclaimed.  

Connor frowned. “No nuts, right?”

“Not a one in sight.” Cindy smiled.

“Where’s grandpa?”

Cindy removed the pan and set it on a rack to cool. She turned off the oven, removed her oven mitt, and turned.

“He’s on a secret mission. Let’s hope he gets back before the cinnamon rolls are gone.”

Connor sat hunched over the table, chin in his hands.

“He can have mine. I’m not hungry.”

Ethan's wide eyes fixed on his brother, shocked and speechless.

Cindy crossed the kitchen to the table, and placed a hand on Connor’s shoulder.

“I have an idea. Why don’t you two get dressed for the day and then come on back down. Your grandpa should be home by then and maybe you’ll be ready for some breakfast.”

“But I’m ready now,” Ethan whined.

“Sweetheart, if you tried eating one of those rolls just out of the oven, you’d burn your taste buds, and then you wouldn’t be able to enjoy all that gooey cinnamon, not to mention my homemade icing.”

“Oh, all right.”

“Go on now. Come back after you’re all spic and span.”

As she heard their small feet scamper up the stairs, Connor obviously lagging behind his hungry younger brother, the kitchen door opened and Jasper appeared. He carried a book in his hand.

“I’m glad you’re back! What have you got there?”

“Just what I was looking for – I hope. Where are the kids?”

“I sent them to get dressed while breakfast cools.”

“So I can smell. Good. Let me get some coffee and wake up a bit. Think you can wait and find out with the boys what I have in mind here?”

“Sure.”

“There's no guarantee. I tried to come up with something age appropriate, and I found something with the help of the librarian.”

“Let me get you some coffee. Sit. All fingers still crossed.”

*  *  *

By the time Connor and Ethan returned, the table was set for four with fruit, flowers, juice and rolls. Cindy made some adjustments to the boys’ attire, smoothed a cowlick or two, adhered some Velcro and then released them to kiss their grandpa good morning and begin to tackle breakfast.

“I have something I’d like to show you boys.”

“What is it?” Ethan was busy picking out grapes from the fruit bowl Cindy held for him. Fruit first, and then the buns would be fair game.

“Today I thought we could stray a little bit from tradition and, instead of waiting until bedtime to read you a story, we’d begin the day with one.”

“Coo’, Gran’pa,” Ethan managed around a mouthful of grapes.

Connor looked as if he’d rather kiss a porcupine. 

“Really?”

Jasper smiled patiently at Connor.

“Can you humor your old, almost senile Grampa while he still has his faculties, at least some of them; not to mention, his teeth?”

Ethan thought this was hilarious. He covered his mouth to keep the fruit from escaping. Cindy leaned over to make sure he didn’t choke. Then she laughed, too.

Connor shrugged, ducking his head so his grin wouldn’t be so obvious. 

“All right then. Everybody’s plate full? Let’s begin”

Jasper then collected the library book he’d checked out that morning, located his reading glasses in his breast pocket and began to read, while displaying the illustrations along the way. The book was entitled “The Balloon Boy.”

“Our story takes place in the imaginary world of Never Haven, which is situated near the Coast of Silly, on the borderline of Inn Sanity.  You’ll find a map with directions to the quiet little town at the Nonexistent Bakery where they make No-Dough Do-Knots with air batter and dream dairy cream.

“The townspeople loved living in their magnificent made-up world – where cosmetics were forbidden but honest living reigned supreme. It was a place where words were spoken with nary-a-care and everyone knew what everything meant, whether they knew it or not. Lines were meant to be drawn and read between and everyone knew how to get there. Life was bliss, if utterly unreal.

“There was one exception to the town’s model state and he was known as The Balloon Boy, to those who had thought of it. His nickname was Loony to those who knew him best, or not at all, mainly because they didn’t speak the language. He was the only spectacle in town with such serious affliction. His true gift - not that any self-respecting department store would accept a return - was swallowing feelings whole and his unwavering appetite for the strongest of emotions, which was legendary to the unknown. 

And let’s not forget, the more he ate, every day and without fail, the less room he could save for dessert, which consisted of guilt ganache and sugar shame, but never, ever pickled pride.

“And here's how the sonic goes:

He chewed anger, he slurped fear,

He'd never sob for all to hear.                         

He felt these things but held them tight.   

He swallowed all in one big bite.

Balloon Boy was the name they gave,         

and here’s the reason why.                                

Whenever he felt something true,               

he thought he’d rather die                                                          

than show the world just who he was,

they didn't need to see

a work in progress, I'm not done.

Why not just let me be?

He bit his tongue,

then swallowed whole 

before it could break free,                

anything uncomfortable,                                            

just leave it all to me. 

So this is something good to know,                          

keep not too much inside,

there's only so much room for growth                                    

when stuffed with stubborn pride.

Issues are like tissues,

You wouldn't want to store

something used to wipe a mess

when likely there'll be more.

So give yourself some air to breathe

and let in those that care,    

Most people can be wonderful,

and treat your feelings fair.

Don't wind up like Balloon Boy,   

one day he can't be found.

What happened, he'd run out of room

and exploded all through town!’

"PS. It was a good thing the townspeople had plenty of clean tissues on hand,

because that was the messy end to Balloon Boy.

THE END”

Jasper closed the book and removed his glasses.

“It does not say that!” Connor laughed.

Jasper showed him the book. “Do I lie?”

Cindy leaned over to look. “They didn’t provide an illustration? How disappointing.”

Ethan was beside himself with sugar-powered giggles. He looked like HE could burst.

Cindy began clearing dishes. 

“All right, you boys get cleaned up. You’ll attract every bee in the county with those cinnamon faces. I’ll be right in to help.”

The boys scattered, laughing and poking each other.  

Jasper waited until they were out of earshot.

“Well?”

Cindy ran water into the sink, followed by dish soap when it was warm enough. She was smiling.

“What I really hope is that you have some activities in mind to wear out those two little powerhouses. Looks like Connor’s back to his rowdy self.”

“Hon, the book, what did you . . .”

Just then Connor entered the kitchen, shadowed by Ethan, who was grinning from ear to ear.

“Grandpa, we were thinking, could we get Mom ‘The Balloon Boy’? We’d like to hear it again. We think she’d like it, too.”

“It’s so silly!” squealed Ethan.

“Tell you what,” Jasper knelt close enough to take in the sweet aroma of sugar, cinnamon and boy, “Get cleaned up and let's all take a ride to the book store and we’ll buy you a copy. How's that for a good deal?”

“Great!” Ethan bounced out of the kitchen.

Connor lingered for an extra moment.

“Thanks, Grandpa. You read really good.”

THE END