We'll Get There

“May.” I whisper her name, but it gets drowned out by the breeze. The leaves shiver in the trees. I take another step. Dry bark crackles beneath my shoes. “Mayday.” My heart’s going fast. My palms are cool, sweaty. I still scare so easy. I hate it.

“Rawr!” May jumps out from around the corner of the next building. I kinda expected it, but of course, I reel back. Her eyes are all scrunched and she’s making claws with her hands.

“Dammit, May.” I loosen up. “I told you to stop doing that.”

 “Why?” She’s got this grin on her face that’s so annoying, but it kinda makes me want to smile too.

“You know why.”

She shrugs and immediately runs ahead. I make sure not to lose her this time. I follow her out onto the school field.

“Look what I found,” she says. Her voice picks up a little, and I get nervous. She runs up to the base of a massive tree. An oak tree, I think. It’s this giant plume of green out in the open.

“A tree?” I walk up to the trunk. There are two letters carved there, a heart around them. “Dee and Dee,” I read. Makes me think of Dungeons and Dragons.

“No, up there.” May points into the twisting branches. They kinda look like roots, threading their way through the air. They’re speckled with star-shaped leaves. Trailing down from the branches is a rope ladder. Swaying in the wind.

“No way.” I smile. “A treehouse.”

“Yeah!” May gets loud again, and I scold her. “Can we go inside?” she says.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

“Why?”

“Because.”

“You always say that. That’s not a reason.”

I give her a look. She’s been challenging me a lot more lately. Growing up fast. Not that she’s had a choice. “I don’t think it’s safe,” I say.

“You’re scared.”

“No, I’m practical.” I watch the sky, the gold, buttery clouds. I shiver, even though it’s warm out. Warm and dry. “We still have time to go a bit further.”

“Please, Ajay.”

“What.”

“Just real quick.”

I sigh. “What if you fall?”

“I’ll go first so you can catch me.”

I chuckle. “May.” She tests the ladder. Her little fingers thread their way around a rung. “And what if I fall?” I say.

“You won’t.”

“How do you--?” A noise interrupts me. It’s a clatter, like a baseball bat dropping on the ground. It echoes between the buildings behind us. A dog starts barking. And there’s a flutter of wings in the trees past the fence. My throat gets tight. I turn back to May and I see she’s already partway up the ladder.

“May!” My voice grows soft, but sharp.

“Come on,” she says. She sounds calm. I don’t know how she’s always so calm.

“May, get down.”

She doesn’t listen.

“Now, May.”

She keeps going. I pace the ground beneath her. I stretch out my arms. I expect something to snap, her to slip and fall. I can already picture it. But, before I know it, I’m watching the green stuffed monkey clipped to her backpack smile down at me as she disappears into the treehouse.

“May!” I call up to her. I do my best not to raise my voice.

“Oh wow.” Her words are drawn out. They fall from the tree like lifeless leaves. “Ajay, you gotta come up here.”

It takes me a moment, but I grab a rung. “Dammit, May,” I say again. And what do you know: my palms are sweaty. I’m scared of heights too. Still have no idea why Justin left us, why I’m in charge of May now. I’m not brave like he was.

I climb, and I focus only straight up, up through the tunnel of green stars and sky roots. I know it’s gonna be even harder coming back down, but I don’t wanna think about that right now. When I finally reach the top, I pull myself up through the opening and I crinkle my nose. Smells like old books. I look around and I say the same thing May said. “Oh. Wow.”

The treehouse is bigger than it looked from the ground. It’s like a small bedroom. Literally. There’s a bed. Well, a cot. May’s sitting on it, her legs swinging off the side. She’s got this look of wonder in her eyes. Guess she likes the fairy lights on the ceiling. It’d be better if they were lit.

“This place is cool,” she says. She hops off the cot and makes her way to a bookshelf across from where we’d entered. It’s filled with paperbacks. Source of the smell.

“Yeah, it is,” I push myself up. I can’t really stand. There’s dust everywhere. The floorboards groan beneath my feet. I notice a beanbag chair to my right, flattened, with some seams showing. There’s a window to my left, white curtains fluttering at each side. I walk over to it.

It’s a hell of a view from here. I can see most of the lower county. Everything we’ve hiked. Santiago Summit’s in the distance. It’s like a backdrop for a stage of palm-tree silhouettes. The whole mountain is really wide and round. Always made me think of a giant dinosaur that had been buried in the earth. There’s this long stretch of raised land off to one side that looks kinda like a neck. Justin used to laugh at that.

“We’re really high,” says May. She comes up next to me and places her monkey on the windowsill. She’s gotta make sure Booger can see too. We watch the wind make waves in the field.

“Yeah.” My throat gets tight again, and when I look up, I feel a clenching feeling, so I look back down. “What are you holding?”

“A book,” she says. It’s thin and the cover’s really faded.

“‘We’ll Get There.’” I crane my neck and read the title on the spine. “Why?”

“I thought you’d like it.” She holds it up for me to see better.

The front’s got a picture, but it’s styled like a painting. Kinda like Monet, maybe. I dunno. There are two guys in the picture. They’re sitting in a diner or a café or something. They remind me of me and Cullen. One of them’s wearing sunglasses inside. Thinks he’s cool, I guess. I turn it over and I read the back. I get a few sentences in, and then I stop. I swallow. My heart drops into my stomach like a stone. I can feel the ripples sloshing around. “Why’d you think I’d like this,” I ask.

“I dunno,” says May. “Just did.”

“Did you read the back?”

She shakes her head. “No. What’s it about?”

I think about my answer. The ripples in my stomach calm down. “A road trip. Two friends trying to get somewhere.”

“Like us.”

“Yeah, like us.” I leave the window and walk over to the bookshelf. I feel the warm wind come in after me. It hugs me from behind. I shiver again. It’s still warm.

May follows me. “I wonder whose books these are.”

“I dunno, May.” My damp fingers glide along their spines. There’s one with a cover that reminds me of an old superhero comic. There’s another with a cover that’s been torn all the way off. I wait a moment, then I look back at the book in my hands. I flip it over and finish reading the back. I read it twice. And I think of Cullen again. That day after school. We always talked about planning a road trip when we were old enough to drive.

“Do you think he’ll be back?” asks May.

“May, I told you: Justin’s gone.”

She looks confused. “I didn’t say anything.”

“Yeah, you did.”

“Nuh-uh.”

I scratch at my jaw. “Oh. Whatever.”

May sits herself on the cot again. She places Booger on the pillow next to her. I notice a blanket folded beneath her feet. “I wonder if someone lives here.”

“I don’t think so.” I stand up, careful not to bump my head. “There’s no food or anything.” I join her and she moves over a bit. The cot is comfier than it looks.

“Someone could bring food here.”

“Maybe. But I think it’s more of, like, a hiding place,” I say. I watch the curtains sway around the window. Swaying like the rope ladder.

“A hiding place?”

“Yeah. Like a secret spot.”

“Do you think whoever hides here will come back?”

I glance at my handprints in the dust by the entrance. “I don’t think so, May.” I hear more fluttering from somewhere outside. I realize that the dog stopped barking a long time ago. It makes me sad. Everything’s so quiet. “I don’t think anyone comes here anymore.”

“Oh.” She sounds sad too, but then she brightens back up. “We came here.”

I laugh. “Yeah, we did.”

“Can we have a place like this?”

“Maybe one day.” It could be like a Fortress of Solitude, I think. Like the one me and Cullen had always wanted. Someplace where we wouldn’t have to worry about being watched all the time. I dunno why, but it always felt that way before. Like eyes were everywhere. All the time. At home. At school. In stores. In the park. Always eyes on me.

“Can we stay here for a little while?” says May.

I want to tell her that we need to keep moving. We still have a long way to go. It’s not too late. Not yet. But, for some reason, I lean back in the cot instead and I crack open the old book in my hands. It smells good. Reminds me of when Mom would take me to the bookstore in Old Town. “Maybe for a few more minutes,” I say.

She’s satisfied. She giggles and pulls Booger close to her. “Are you gonna read?”

“Just a couple pages.”

“I wanna read too.” She hops off the cot and goes back to the bookshelf.

“Okay,” I say. I turn the page and my heart starts going kinda fast again. I’ve never read a book like this. My eyes scan the first few lines. The main character’s name is Jesse. And Jesse’s got a cat. Just like we used to have. Damn, I miss Jack. His full name was Cat Kerouac. Justin named him. When May was younger, she could never say it right, so he had us stick to ‘Jack’ instead.

“You find something?” I ask when May comes back. She’s picked out a paperback with a bright orange cover. Looks a little big for her. Not that that’s stopped her before. She nods, and I go back to reading. The cat in the book’s name is Lucy. Lucy’s sitting on Jesse’s stomach, purring, and she’s kneading it with her paws.

Cullen used to let Jack do that to him all the time. That day after school, we were both on the floor in the living room. Mom wasn’t home from the hospital yet. I remember Jack was on Cullen’s stomach, kneading away. Cullen said it tickled, even though he looked like he was in pain. I reached over and tickled him for real, and he laughed, and I laughed. And I guess I just left my hand there, on his stomach. Jack thought I was shooing him away, even though I wasn’t trying to.

“‘The Butterfly Song.’” May reads the title of her book aloud. From my angle I can only see the name ‘Quiñonez’ on the cover. That’s our last name. Probably why she picked it. She opens it up and flips to the first page. I’ve stopped reading mine. My eyes just drift over empty words. The warm, dry breeze keeps swelling in the treehouse and I don’t know why, but I keep shivering.

When I was on the floor with Cullen in the living room, I remember shivering too. It was a good shiver though. Cullen was staring at me and I was staring at him. Just staring and smiling. Then, he kissed me, I guess. Or maybe I kissed him. I can’t remember. Not like it’s important. It didn’t mean anything. That’s what Cullen said.

Justin said the same thing. I told him about it, and he told me not to worry. He said I shouldn’t talk about it anymore though. He said it was already hard enough because I didn’t have many friends who were boys, and because I didn’t like sports and cars and getting messy. Something like that. I still don’t really know what he meant.

“What’s wrong, Ajay?”

I look at May. “Nothing.”

“Why are you crying?”

“I’m not, May.” I wipe at my eyes. I feel moisture, but it’s just my hands. I close the book and take it back to the shelf. “Okay. We should probably get going. Before it gets dark.”

“But I like it here.”

“You’ll like Tia Jo’s house too. You remember it, don’t you?”

She shakes her head.

“The one by the cape.”

She shakes her head again. I slide the book back in with the others, but I leave my finger on the top of its spine. I can’t let it go right away.

“You didn’t like it?” says May. She hasn’t moved from the cot. She turns and unzips her backpack and takes out a granola bar.

“It’s not mine, May.” I lift my finger off the book and I feel the stone plop in my stomach again. The ripples come back. “How many more of those do you have?” I ask.

“Three.” She tears away the wrapper and she takes a bite. “But if no one comes here anymore, then it’s okay.” She speaks through a mouthful.

“What’s okay?”

“For you to keep the book.”

“I don’t wanna keep it, May.”

“Why not?”

“Because.” I raise my voice. Everything goes quiet again. Even the wind kinda stops. I listen to May softly chewing. I know my answer’s not good enough for her. I don’t know if it’s good enough for me either.

I think about leaving the treehouse, leaving the faded old book with the painting on the front and the strange words on the back. Leaving, just like Jack did when he ran away, or Cullen did when he moved, or Mom did when she died. Leaving, just like Justin left. Me and May are gonna go back out there, where things are the way they are, different now. Different. Because the eyes have gone away. And I realize, no one’s watching anymore. No one’s watching me. No one, except my sister, I guess. May’s always watching.

“Dammit, May.” I’m sure she’s used to hearing me say that. I sigh and I turn around. I take my book back out of the shelf. I feel a little better as soon as it’s in my hands again. May’s already grinning. I roll my eyes. “We’ll stay here tonight.”

“Yay!” Of course, she gets loud right away. I shush her and remind her that we’ve gotta stay quiet. “Sorry,” she whispers, but she’s still smiling. I don’t think her voice got too far. The wind’s back. It’s whispering through the sky roots, making the starry leaves dance.

I ask May to help me pull up the rope ladder. Just to be safe. We’ll drop it back down in the morning. Then I join her on the cot again. “Scooch,” I tell her, and she does. She puts Booger in her lap. I unzip my backpack. I count our masks and our snacks. We should still be okay, at least for a little while. I open up my book and she opens hers.

I read for a long time. I read about Jesse, his cat Lucy, and the boy he meets out on the road. I read about their decision to find someplace together. They don’t know where, when, or how, but they’ll know it when they get there. I stop about halfway through the book to wipe at my eyes. My hands are dry this time. I lean over and give May a kiss on the head. Just like Justin used to do. I’m gonna tell her what I think about the book when I finish it. I don’t know when I’ll tell her about Cullen, but it’ll happen. I’ll get there too.