The Snap of a Finger

As I sat in the middle of my torment, the wind rustled the tree’s leaves outside the window.  The sky was covered in a blanket of grey clouds and Mr.Knorr was just about to finish the final chapter of To Kill a Mockingbird, when the final bell rang.  Stuffing their materials into their backpacks, everyone rushed out the door.  I dragged my feet, through the halls filled with stomping shoes, and out the main door.  It had been cloudy all week with not a single drop of rain but as I walked out the door, the waterfall came crashing down.  Everyone ran frantically towards their parent’s cars and the school bus while I continued trudding down the sidewalk.  My feet were cold but the tough shell of my black leather boots kept them dry.  

I can’t wait for this year to be over, I thought.  No, I can’t wait for high school to be over.  

Everyone says high school comes and goes like the snap of a finger but ever since I stepped foot into Franklin High, time suddenly slowed down and everything became dreadful.  Before that, everything just seemed to happen so fast.  That summer, before school started, my best friend Trevor and I decided to skate to the park.  There was only a narrow sidewalk on the way over, so we decided to skate on the road.  Enjoying the last moments of summer, we glided by as the breeze blasted in our faces.  The rolling of the wheels was calming and gentle.  We laughed, joked about stupid things and high school, when suddenly, everything went pitch black.  The first thing I saw as I opened my eyes was a bright light.  I could hear a monitor close to my left ear, and shuffling feet.  In the distance, a fading voice of a woman:  “Code blue Code blue!”.  Then, everything went black again.  I woke up, but this time I could feel a soft hand against mine, an embrace of sorrow.  It was my mom.  I looked into her eyes and she burst into tears.  I gasped as the memories flooded back into my brain.  The screeching of tires blasted in my ears and there was a moment when I held Trevor’s hand, hoping I’d pull him with me but the tips of his fingers slipped away and he was gone.  Street racers, I remembered.  I stared into the light until I couldn’t anymore and squeezed my eyes shut.  

My best friend, only friend really, saved my life and now, I was alone.  My mom has never stopped insisting on making more friends and I keep affirming her that I have but the truth is, I don’t want any friends.  I don’t need any friends.  Not so they can die on me again.    

I crossed the street from the school to an empty field abandoned with litter.  As I stared at my laces jumping up and down, the grass made a rustling noise.  I swiftly looked behind me and saw nothing but a blurry vision from the rain in my eyes.  I rubbed them and looked around.  Nothing.  Turning back, I heard the rustle of movement again.  I came to a stop and almost in sync, the noise did too.  I took two steps and again the noise.  I turned around completely this time, the curls on my head creating a sprinkler with the dripping water.  I walked backwards and a flimsy cardboard box moved in my direction.  My eyes widened as I held my breath.  Filling my nostrils with the dull smell of wet dirt, I breathed deeply and crouched beside the box.   

“AHH!” I yelled as a small furry rodent jumped onto my lap.  I held my chin up, eyes closed, afraid of getting bitten, assuming it could even bite.  When I felt nothing, I slowly opened my eyes, and a small dark eyed animal looked at me with curiosity.  A meerkat, I thought.  A meerkat?  How did a meerkat end up here?  I sat with my legs crossed on the wet pavement, as the meerkat curled itself up into a ball on my knee.  That’s when I noticed a tag on it’s leg.  It read: “Walter Research Facility, Kansas.”  Kansas? What’s a meerkat from Kansas doing in Washington?  I turned the tag over: “Test Subject 10522: Bred in Captivity”.  I sighed as it’s little belly went up and down with each breath.  Well, I can’t just leave it out here in the cold, I thought.  I carefully lifted it up and walked home with him in the pocket of my sweater.

“Mom, I’m home!” I yelled as I walked through the front door catching a whiff of sweet bread in the air.  Mom was sprawled on the couch snoring, so I kicked off my shoes and ran upstairs.  I dropped my backpack near my bedroom door and carefully looked inside my pocket.  Nothing.  I felt around my backpack and nothing either.  I ran out the door, down the stairs and suddenly came to a dead halt.  My foot was about one centimeter away from suffocating him alive.  I sighed with relief but perhaps too much relief because next thing I know I’m flying down the staircase, head first with a loud BOOM!  

“Porter honey, are you home?” Mom called.  

“Yeah sorry I uh dropped my biology book,”  I replied as I turned around only to find that he was gone, again.  

“There’s mashed potatoes on the stove and some sweet rolls when you get hungry okay?  Porter?”

The sight of a small furry tail caught my attention behind my door as I ran back up stairs.  I slowly opened it and he dashed off, into my pile of laundry, onto my nightstand and then my bed.  Rolling my eyes, I took a step forward, realizing what a mistake that was as I looked down at the gooey brown substance drenched under my sock.  Hopping over to my restroom, I dumped the socks in the trash and washed my feet.  I cleaned up the mess and while he was sleeping, I decided to do some research.  

“ ‘Meerkats also do not make suitable domesticated animals due to their wild nature and demanding needs. ... Additionally, meerkats can be aggressive and deliver a really nasty bite,’ ” I read.  I looked over at my bed.  Looking so harmless, he was still sound asleep.  I looked up the research facility in Kansas which turned out to be shut down.  I wondered, maybe the animals were all being moved and somehow, this little guy escaped.  I smiled.  I'd never had a pet before, I thought, and I could teach him to behave, like a dog or a cat since he was bred in captivity.  Crawling to the farther side of my bed, I stared at his light brown fur.  There was a mark on his back, a dark brown, almost like a complete and perfect circle.  Gibbous.  I’ll name him Gibbous.  

A bright light glowed on my face.  

“Mom? Mom! Where’s Trevor?  Mom, I need to see him, take me to Trevor!”  My mom stood there, staring at me with blank eyes.  Her skin became lighter and pale until she disintegrated into ash.  I looked at the corner of the hospital room.  Trevor appeared before me, his skin dark, and his entire body streaming and oozing with blood.

“Porter . . . you did this to me.  Why didn’t you save me?  It’s your fault I’m dead.”  

“No! No . . . no I tried to save you Trevor I’m sorry . . . I’m so sorry,” I cried.  Deteriorating, his skin became ash and he drifted away into the darkness that the room had become.

“No . . Trevor, come back . . .”  Gasping, I opened my eyes and groggily looked around.  It was just a dream, I told myself.  Wiping the saliva drool from my face, I brushed away feathers from my hair.  I stood up and looked around my room.

“Gibbous!” I yelled.  My room was completely flipped upside down.  My computer on the floor, pillows torn apart, and my laundry, although not much different from before, was thrown EVERYWHERE.  Gibbous crawled out of a giant hole from my pillow and stared at me with pleading eyes.  Crawling to me, he gave a soft, innocent look.  As I stroked his fur, I caught a whiff at the stench of mildew in the air, realizing it was actually Gibbous.  I crawled out of bed, with Gibbous in hand, and closed the drain in my sink to let it fill with warm water.  

“I hope you like baths,” I whispered to him.  Although animals can’t literally communicate, I had an odd sensation as though Gibbous knew it was bathtime, and a shock of excitement flowed through his body.  He was bred in captivity, so I’m sure the procedure for washing up was different but this will have to do, I thought.  He jumped out of my hand and into the water with a splash.  

“Now how am I supposed to tell my mom about you?  You don’t suppose I just go up to her and tell her I’ve adopted a meerkat, right?”  I stared at him splashing around the water like any fun loving dog would.  He's not so different, I thought, I should just tell her.  He then jumped out of the sink landing face first onto the toilet seat.  

“Okay, maybe not,” I laughed.  As I carefully helped him up, I felt that sensation as though he was laughing with me.  His face expression changed, like he was smiling.  Staring into his eyes, for a split second, I felt as though he knew exactly what I was saying and thinking.  I shook my head no, he’s just an animal, a meerkat.  

The next morning, I felt a furry little tail on my face and I smiled.

“Gibbous, move your tail and go to your spot!”  Last night, before I went to bed, I grabbed my hospital baby blanket and made a small bed for him beside me, which I remember him falling asleep on, not my face.  Rolling my eyes, I got out of bed and yawned.  I looked over at the clock, realizing I was going to be late for school, and bolted to my closet, grabbing the closest clean pair of jeans I could find.  

“Gibbous, you’re going to have to stay in my restroom until I get back to school, there’s no way you could come with me.  I’ll even leave you a bowl of water and crackers or something to eat.”  Realizing I was really only talking to myself, I signaled with a whistle for him to jump on my hand and surprisingly, he did.  I wondered if he had been whistled to before at the facility.  I set him in the restroom, filled a cup with water beside the door, ran down stairs, grabbed some unsalted crackers, ran back upstairs to place them in the restroom, grabbed my backpack, and finally bolted down stairs, out the front door without noticing the little furry tail sticking out from the small pocket of my backpack.  

The late bell rang as I stepped foot into my first class, biology.  I quickly sat in my seat and set my backpack down beside me when my eyes widened.  Gibbous was squirming in the front pocket of my backpack about to leap from it when I snatched him under my desk.  The girl beside me gave me an odd look as I squirmed in my chair from Gibbous’s little feet tapping on my legs.  He made a purr sound then crawled into my sweater pocket and rolled up into a ball for a nap.  I sighed, as long as I get through this class, I’ll figure out a way so he doesn’t disturb me.  My biology teacher was going on about photosynthesis, as I wondered how Gibbous adapted so quickly to me.  When we first met, it was as if he was being drawn to me.  I went on wondering about fate and how often these things happen to me.  Not often, I concluded.  He must be my little miracle friend.  A friend.  I made a friend.   

As lunch time came around, I realized bringing Gibbous to school was a piece of cake.  He caused no trouble whatsoever and behaved extremely well.  By that I mean, he loved naps.  Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad if he came to school, to keep me company, I thought.  And it wasn’t.  I was happy again.  After that, Gibbous came along with me everywhere no matter what.  Without a problem, we’d go to school, to my new jobs, and to the park.  I began skating again, taking him along for the ride.  I told my mom about him and she was perfectly fine with it, as long as I cleaned up after him.  My smile was back and I felt like my old self again.  I felt free again, like I had with Trevor.  Gibbous was my new best friend and no one could replace him.  He followed me through my high school journey.  He was there for me through it all.  I knew he’d always be.  

By the time the end of senior year came, I realized how fast time had gone by.  They were right, I thought, high school came and went like the snap of a finger.  For three years I kept Gibbous hidden from everyone.  No one ever knew about him, except my mom of course.  I didn’t think he’d love being the center attention so I kept him a secret.  My final class before lunch was AP Calculus.  When the bell rang, I went to the cafeteria and sat in my usual spot.  I snuck some berries to Gibbous as I ate my PB&J.  The noise of the loud chatter bothered me so I decided to put on my headphones.  Bumping into me, some freshman bolted by, causing me to drop my sandwich.  Before I could grab him, Gibbous jumped out of my pocket, running after it.  

“Gibbous, come back!” I shouted.  And in that moment, it felt as though a million eyes were on me.  I could feel my cheeks boiling red, and the sweat trickling down my neck.  The whispers around me grew louder and louder.  My breathing intensified, and my mind began spinning like a merry-go-round.  I snatched Gibbous and ran through the cafeteria doors, towards the main door.  Slamming against a locker, I dropped Gibbous and fell, my sight going pitch black.

It was the first day of school in 2nd grade, and everyone was in the playground.  I stood at the top of the slide and looked around.  I saw kids running everywhere with their friends.  All of a sudden, I felt small hands shoving me from behind and I fell face first, slamming onto the slide.  I flipped over and landed my face on the sand.  Everyone laughed at me.  Everyone but one person.  He offered his hand to me and helped me up.

“Hi my name’s Trevor, want to be friends?”

I opened my eyes and realized what had happened.  Rubbing the back of my head I stood up.  Gibbous was staring at me with confused and wondering eyes.  

“Hey buddy, I wasn’t out for long was I?” He crawled over to me and rubbed his face against my arms.  

“Let’s get out of here,”  I said, grabbing my backpack.  I looked behind the school and shook my head.  I don’t belong here, I thought.  I never have and never will.  

“You want to go on an adventure?” I asked.  Gibbous looked at me with a reassuring excitement.  And with that, I ran out the school door and to my house.  I made it home and ran upstairs to pack my bag.  Emptying out my piggy bank, I shook out all my savings and stuffed them in my backpack.  

“I’m ready, Gibbous.  I’m ready to start enjoying my life how I’ve always wanted and I’m taking you with me,” I assured him.  Grabbing a pen and piece of paper I sat down at my desk.

“Dear Mom, ever since Trevor died, I’ve been struggling.  Struggling to make friends, struggling in school, and struggling adapting to this life.  It’s never worked for me.  With Trevor it did.  He was my best friend and he once told me, he wanted to see the world.  He wanted to go places, real places, not school.  He told me one day he would.  He said he’d leave his home.   He told me I could come with him, and I agreed.  But he’s been gone for a long time.  And I’m ready.  I’m ready to go places.  I’m ready to start living.  And I’m taking Gibbous with me.  Ever since I met him, I’ve believed everything happens for a reason and I’ve accepted it.  He showed me to be myself again.  He’s been my best friend like no other and I’m ready to be where I've always been meant to be.  I’m leaving but always remember that I love you.  Goodbye.  Porter.” 

I whistled to Gibbous and he jumped on my shoulder.  I ran down stairs and skated to the nearest bus station.  I sat down, and sighed.  Gibbous sat on my shoulder as we waited for the bus.  Walking slowly across the street, an old woman with a cane, looked to the left and then to the right. Then, out of nowhere a speeding car came into view and suddenly, I felt a weight lifting off my shoulders.  Gibbous dashed towards the street, towards the woman.

“Gibbous!” I screamed running after him.  The old woman bolted back as she saw Gibbous but the car never slowed down, flashing right before my eyes.  And just like the snap of a finger, my best friend was gone.  With utter despair, I fell on my knees in the middle of the street.  The bus finally came, straight towards me, and I didn’t move an inch.  Everything suddenly went pitch black.