April. 28. 2013
The boy is hungry.
You can tell by the way his small figure sits slumped against the tree. And how his fingers are tracing the outline of pizza on the fresh dirt.
“Are you hungry, little one?”
A disembodied voice reaches the ears of the boy. He frowns.
“What?” the boy’s head whips up, surprise and curiosity written plainly across his face. “Who said that?”
His brows wrinkle in confusion as he stares up at the sky.“Is your voice coming from the sky?”
“You’d be surprised that you’re not too far off from the truth, my boy.”
The boy laughs quietly. “You’re funny,” he says. “You sound like my grandpa.”
“Your grandpa is a good man.”
The boy doesn’t question how the mysterious voice coming from the sky knows of his grandpa. He is far too hungry to care, really. “Can you be my friend?” he asks after a moment of silence.
“Of course, little one.”
The boy grins. “Woohoo!” and then he runs off into his house, jumping up and down.
The moment he gets into the house he runs to his mother, who stands in the kitchen slicing vegetables.
“Mom!” he cries. “I made a new friend!”
“That’s wonderful, hun,” she says, eyes staying fixed on the minced green vegetables that lay on the cutting board. “What’s his name?”
The boy stops. He doesn’t know, he forgot to ask his friend’s name. That’s a bit silly, really, to forget to ask his friend's name. “Um,” the boy pauses, thinking. “His name is...Sky?”
You see, the boy wasn’t really wrong.
April. 29. 2013
The backyard doors fly open with such a force that made a little dent in the walls. Out from the wide, open doors, comes the boy, wearing a wide grin on his face.
“Sky!” he shouts, grin never leaving his face. “Sky!”
He runs into the backyard, clothes flapping in the strong wind.
“Shh,” the voice says. “You must be quieter.”
The boy looks down sheepishly. “Sorry,”
“It is okay, my boy,” the boy smiles when he hears this. “Come sit under the tree and we will talk.”
“And play?” the boy asks, as he heads toward the tree.
“And play,” the voice agrees.
The boy sits down under the shade of the tree. The wind had calmed down now so he sits undisturbed. “Is your name really Sky?”
The voice remains silent for a moment. Even the wind stops blowing for a second. “I will tell you a secret, my boy, but you must promise to never tell anyone. Do you promise?”
The boy nods his head repeatedly. “I pinky promise.” except, he isn’t sure if his friend had any pinkies. He sure can’t see any. “Do you have any pinkies, Sky?”
“No,” the voice says. “You know why?”
The boy shakes his head. “No.”
“It is because I am the sky.”
“Woah!” the boy whispers in awe. “That’s the coolest thing I ever heard!”
“Quite so,” the sky agrees, a humorous tone to his voice. “But it does get lonely up here, all by myself.”
The boy looks up, smiling. “Don’t worry, Sky, I’ll be your friend and then you’ll never be lonely ever again,” he promises.
“Thank you, my boy.”
The boy’s smile turns a hundred times wider, right then. “I promise I’ll never tell anyone about your secret,” he says, interrupting the silence. “Never, ever, ever, ever, ever, ever.”
The sky chuckles. His laugh like a gentle breeze of wind. “I believe you, little one.”
The boy nods. “Okie Dokie, um, big one.”
The sky lets out another breezy laugh.
With all this talking, the boy completely forgot about playing.
“It’s tiring doing all this talking, you know,” the boy says, emitting a loud sigh.
“And what would make it less tiring for you, my boy?” the sky asks.
The boy shrugs and smiles childishly. “Pizza.”
April. 30. 2013
“Hey, Sky, do you ever eat food?” the boy asks one day, as he sits by the tree with his friend. He is tracing pizza in the dirt once again, just like the day they met. His stomach lets out a loud growl every few seconds. The boy is hungry, once again. He tends to get hungry quite often, actually.
“No, I don’t.”
The boy gasps. “But--but what about pizza?”
The sky laughs at his childish surprise. “I’ve never had it”
The boy gasps even louder. “What? How is that possible, Sky? Pizza is the awesomest thing ever on this planet,” he smiles cheekily.
“I don’t doubt it.”
Another loud growl sounds from the stomach of the boy. “Sky? I’m going to go inside now, to eat food.”
“You do that, my boy.”
The boy gets up and goes inside, waving a little goodbye to his friend. When he gets back home, there is no pizza, but instead salad.
He isn’t really hungry anymore.
April. 31. 2013.
“What’s it like being the sky?”
“It’s like knowing everything. Being able to see everything, but never get to be a part of it all. You just watch the world go on, from a distance. Watch generation after generation pass by, while I remain the sky.”
“That seems pretty lonely, Sky.”
“But don’t worry, because me and you, we’ll make a bunch of new memories that you’ll be a part of this time,” the boy promises.
“I’d love that, my boy. Thank you.”
The boy smiles brightly, almost beaming.
After a moment of silence, the sky speaks up. “You know, the sky and human, we’re much alike.”
The boy shakes his head. “We can’t possibly be alike.”
“I think we are.”
“No-o,” the boy says. “I don’t believe it,”
“You try to convince me then, my boy? Tell me how we are different.”
“Okay,” the boy says, nodding. “I’ll think of something. I know I will.”
“You sure, my boy?”
“The surest I’ve ever been in my life!” the boy bites his lip and smiles. And then he nods his head several times.
It is weird to see the boy excited about something that isn’t pizza.
May. 1. 2013
“Sky, you’re my best friend in the entire world.”
“The entire world? Are you sure?”
The boy nods his head. “The surest I’ve ever been in my life.”
“You’re quite sure about a lot of things in life, aren’t you, my boy?”
“Mhm,” the boy says. “I like being sure.”
“Well, that’s good for you.”
“Yes. You know what you want in life, you follow your dreams.”
The boy gazed off into the distance, a thoughtful expression on his face.“I guess I do.”
“And what do you want most in life?”
“I...I want to be friends with you,” the boy says. “Forever and ever.”
“You...don’t want anything else?”
“Nope.” the boy wraps his sweater tighter around, feeling cold and the sudden burst of wind.
“I see then, okay.”
“You see everything, Sky,” the boy says, giggling.
The wind stops for a second. “I guess...I do.”
May. 2. 2013
“You’re back, my boy!” the sky says. “I thought you’d be gone forever.”
“Yeah, I’m here,” the boy sits down on the grass.
“Is something wrong, my boy?” the sky asks.
The boy sighs quietly. “I don’t feel like talking today, Sky.”
“That is okay, little one. If we do not talk, we will sit together.”
And so they sat together quietly, all the way ‘till night.
May. 3. 2013
The boy runs outside, eyes red and blotchy, nose running, tears streaming. He slumps down by the tree and hugs his knees to his chest.
“What is wrong, my boy?”
The boy sniffles loudly. “M-mom said th-that,” he pauses, wiping a tear from his face. “She said w-we’re moving.” he bursts into tears, once again, covering his face with his hands.
“It’s okay, little one.”
The boy shakes his head. “It’s not okay!” he cries, through tears. “I won’t be able to see you anymore!”
“Oh, my boy,” the sky says. “You will always be able to see me.”
The boy lifts his head up. “Really?”
“Yes, of course, my boy.”
Yet, the sky doesn’t sound so sure.
May. 22. 2013
The truck stands outside of the house, filled with boxes. The house is empty. The boy’s parents get in the car, dragging his bright and red suitcase behind him. The truck pulls away.
The boy walks towards the car. “Bye, Sky!” he shouts.
“Goodbye, my boy.”
The boy gets into the car, watching the grow smaller in the distance.
What he doesn’t know is that the sky is with him every second of the way.
June. 30. 2013
The boy stands on the small little slope, right by his new house. He’s surrounded by purple flowers and long grass and a little creek, adorned with lily pads. But something--even amongst the beauty--is missing.
“Sky?” the boy calls, quietly, but his voice still echoes in the vast plains of nothingness.
There never is.
Not once since the one month he moved.
The boy slumps down, hugging his knees. Why won’t the sky ever answer? The sky said they’d be friends, best friends. He said he'd be with the boy while they moved.
So, why wasn’t he?
The boy let a single tear slip down his cheek. A tear for the friend who has disappeared, and a tear for the friend who may never come back.
“Sky?” the boy lifts his head, wiping the tear with the back of his sleeve. “Why’d you leave me?”
The boy sat there for hours, sitting silently, crying a little, calling for the Sky. But he never came.
June. 23. 2015.
Life just isn’t the same anymore.
It seems duller and boring without the sky.
Before his day at school was just more exciting.
Now, there couldn’t be anything more boring.
Before, he used to be filled with excitement to go home, and hang out in the backyard...with Sky.
Now, there isn’t anything to look forward to.
Before he used to have some friends at school.
Now he has none.
No Sky, no friends.
Even his parents seem busier these days. Always working at their new job, and when they get home, they always have something that comes up.
All he wants right now is to have a friend.
Sighing, he continued through the winding sidewalk. People pass him, large groups, friends, hooked by their elbows, grinning faces.
Everything he didn’t have.
The boy looks up at the clouds and the wide stretch of never-ending blue above him. He imagines the soft laugh of Sky’s breeze, remembers the countless hours they spent together. They used to joke and play and talk. Hours used to pass by like minutes.
What had happened to that?
“Where have you gone, Sky?” he whispers softly, rubbing his fingers over the strap of his backpack.
Whispers sound all around him.
Great. Now they must think he talks to himself too. As if he wasn’t already weird enough.
Heaving a loud sigh, he reaches his doorstep. The doormat is new and bright, not like the worn and cozy one, with footsteps carved into it, they had back in their old house.
Nothing is like what it was.
Not even him.
June. 25. 2015
The boy sits by the creek, bare toes dip into the cold water. He imagines that the sky is right by him, talking and playing.
Maybe the creek would have been their new spot.
“Hey, Sky? Do you think if you were here we would have still been playing right now?” the boy mutters aloud, sure the Sky won’t reply.
“Of course, my boy.”
The boy gasps, looking up. “Sky, is that you?”
His heart surges, a light feeling entering his stomach. A giddy smile breaks out onto his face before he can stop it. “You’re really there?”
“I am, my boy.”
He jumps up from the creek, wet feet splashing on the muddy ground. “But--but, where, how...how?”
“I am sorry, my boy.”
And suddenly, the short burst of happiness, of childishness, the boy felt only minutes ago is gone. “How could you?” he shouts. “Why did you leave me?”
“I thought it was best for you.”
Best for him? How could leaving help him?
He shakes his head, tears welling in his eyes. He turns around, not wanting the sky to see the boy cry. To see that there is still a part of him that was overjoyed to see him.
The boy starts walking the other way, back to his house.
“Where are you going, my boy?”
“To my house.” the boy says, trying to keep his voice strong, eyes void of any emotion.
“Because...because I don’t need you anymore,” he says, knowing it’s a lie. “And...besides, if people hear, they’ll think I’m talking to myself.”
“When have you cared about what other people thought of you?”
Anger bubbled inside the boy’s chest, hot and boiling. “Since you left me!” he cries. “Since you left me on my own!”
The boy runs off, not bothering to wait for a reply from the sky.
“My boy, please wait!” a yell in the distance. “I’ll explain everything!”
The boy doesn’t stop. Doesn’t listen. Leaving the sky all alone.
For the rest of the day, it was raining.
July. 1. 2015
The boy is going to talk to the sky. He’s a friend...and however hard to admit it, the boy needs the sky.
So, the boy goes outside, to the small creek he’s come to love. He sits by the giant rock, running his bare feet through the sandy pebbles and then the cool water.
“Sky?” he manages to croak out. He doesn’t even know if the sky will reply. “Remember when I said I’d come up with a reason that we’re not alike?”
There is no reply.
The boy keeps talking. “I thought of a reason.” he pauses, breathing in. “Well, for one, humans don’t live forever, the sky does.”
“And, humans change,” the boy says, thinking of the childish carefree boy that had turned into him. And then he thought of the sky, of the one year that he spent trying to talk to him...without success or a single reply. “But the sky...never seems to.”
“Or at least you haven’t.” the boy says. “If you’d have changed you would have started talking to me, you wouldn’t have left me alone for so long.”
“But my boy, I have changed.”
The boy’s expression turns sour, surprise written all over his face. So the sky had been listening. How many times has he been listening, watching, but never replying?
The boy scoffs quietly, kicking his feet in the water. “How?”
“You have changed me, my boy.” the sky says.
“Then why did you leave? Why didn’t you stay?”
The sky doesn’t answer. “I left...so you could have friends. Human friends. People your age. I left so that you could live your life, as a human normally does. Not...with me."
The boy shakes his head, vision blurring with tears. He wipes them away. “But didn’t you see? The only thing I ever wanted to do was live my life being friends with you.”
The sky remains silent.
It’s silent for several minutes.
“Was it for the better?” the boy asks, breaking the heavy silence. “You said I changed you...was it for the better?”
“Yes.” The sky replies, not hesitating for a second.
“Okay.” the boy says, all he says for the rest of the day they spent together.
But maybe, slowly...very slowly, they could bring their friendship back?
July. 29. 2015.
“I will tell you now, my boy,” the sky says, as they sat by the creek that morning, spending time together for the first time in a while. “How we are alike. All the reasons.”
The boy nods slowly. “Okay.”
“You ever wondered why the sky is so blue?”
“Um, yeah. I guess.”
“But you realize the sky isn't always blue.” the sky says.“Sometimes the sky is vibrant dark blue, sometimes black, sometimes a mix of bright yellows, oranges and pinks. Other times, it’s just a lot of grey.”
“Now, tell me what you would say if I asked you, ‘why are you always happy?’”
“I’d say I’m not always happy.”
“So what else are you then. What else do you feel? What emotion do you appear as to other people?”
“I’m sad sometimes...excited, bored, tired, weird.” the boy says, trailing his wet finger along the muddy grass.
“You are sad, I am grey, like the rain. You are happy I am blue, as day. You are excited, I am red, yellow, pink, like the sunset. You are angry, tired, sad, I am night and storm.”
The boy looks up, nodding.
“Now do you believe me?”
The boy shrugs, allowing a childish smile to slip onto his face. “Maybe.”
August. 1. 2015
“Yes, my boy?”
“I..can I tell you something?”
“Of course, my boy.”
The boy takes a deep breath, leaning against the big rock, letting his back rest against the cold surface. He closes his eyes. “You know why I value our friendship more than anything?”
“It’s because...I don’t have any other friends,” the boy admits. “And all the other people don’t like me. They think I’m weird, so no one wants to be friends with me.”
“Would you like me to unleash a storm on them?”
The boy laughs. “No, I think I’m good.”
August. 3. 2015.
“How was it like, my boy? Watching all the people in your school play, from afar?”
The boy stayed silent, thinking. “It was...lonely.”
“Kind of like myself, before I met you.”
“Yeah,” the boy says slowly. “Maybe we are more alike than I thought.”
The sky laughs breezily. “It only took you a year to realize it.”