It was September, and that early autumn chill was in the air. The leaves had already made good progress on changing into their bright firey colors. Reds, yellows, oranges, even purples fluttered down from the trees and gently onto the ground where they rested until the wind decided to carry them elsewhere. For the children, it was a time to snap back into school mode and focus on their studies, and trying not to fall asleep during them. Well, for many children at least.
Last year, a boy had run away from home and hadn't been seen since. Some assumed he was still out there, wandering the world far away by now, having a whole year to flee to wherever. Many others however, assumed he had died, which was becoming a more and more popular theory with every day passing, and no word of him.
Little did they know that the boy was still very much alive. Not doing too well, but alive nonetheless. And much less did they know, he was closer than they all thought.
That boy walked through the woods, listening to the familiar crunch under his feet with every step he took, enjoying the autumn's atmosphere, and hoped the rain kept at bay. His destination lay ahead, not too far from where he was now.
He coughed violently into the elbow of the sweater that had been keeping him warm for the last year, and groaned. His cough was just getting worse and worse. He had had it for so long and coughed so often it hurt his stomach every time he did so. His throat had begun to make that honking noise too. It surprised him that the police hadn't found him with that. It seemed loud enough. With every cough the noise echoed off of the hills and seemed to go on and on. And often times he'd have fits of just coughing that lasted hours, whole days and nights even. Luckily, that hadn't happened to him for a while. Even so, he wheezed with every shaky breath, and it hurt to do it too. He could swear he had given himself asthma from coughing so much. It was that bad.
He was beginning to see the place he was heading for. He could see parts of the yellow brick building through the leaves on the trees. He hoped to catch his friends at recess whenever that came around, and talk to them for the first time in what was a year today. It was his three hundred and sixty fifth day wandering the wilderness. He felt it was time to visit the old world and see how things were. Not to his old house or anything, no. Not anywhere near that. Just around school, and maybe even talk to the old gang. He'd take the risk of being caught. Besides, he had grown over the past year and hadn't had a haircut since he had left. If he took off his hat and sweatshirt, no one would recognise him. His voice had begun to get deeper too. It was a slight change, but the raspyness added by his cough was enough to render it unrecognizable. He was pretty much safe.
He had reached the edge of the trees and was met by a tall wire fence, barbs along the top if chuckled to himself. He had forgotten about the perimeter fence. He had learned how to safely climb over fences with barbed wire, a skill that had come in handy many times before, but decided against it. He had read the time on the giant clock, which stated that it was only nine thirty. He had a half hour before his friends came out for recess, and he didn't plan on just sitting there for thirty minutes. For that year he had spent in the woods he had had to be alert and on the move at all times, and it had become a habit over time, so it felt uncomfortable to just stand and stare. He needed to be doing something. He decided it'd be a good idea to visit Kelso and get milkshake. He hadn't had a good frappe in a while, and right now he felt he could use one. With extra syrup of course.
He walked along the fence until he could see the sidewalk through the trees. There, he took off his old and dirty forest green sweatshirt and dropped it on the leaf covered ground. Next he reached up and removed his tattered red baseball cap, letting his hair tumble down off his head. He raised his eyebrows. He knew it'd be long, but he didn't know his hat could hide hair long enough to reach the tip of his nose. He reluctantly tossed the hat on top of the He kept his backpack though. All his important stuff was in there (money, flint and steel, flashlight, first aid kit, a crowbar for defense, etc.) and he couldn't risk it getting taken away especially the paper airplane he had found. If he could he would just stuff it in the pack, but they'd take up too much space. For the first time in three hundred and sixty five days, he stepped out into the open during the daytime. He didn't like the feeling it gave him. He just felt so exposed and venerable, like if anything bad were to happen it'd be out here. Nervously, he set off down the sidewalk and passed the entrance to Third Street School, looking down and hoping that nobody saw him.
A few children who had been looking out the window, hoping that whatever was out there would be more exciting than their lesson, did see him. None of them recognising the long haired boy walking past their school. However they did wonder why he wasn't in school at that time, but they dismissed it as him playing hookie and walking past the school to come in the next day and make fun of the teachers for not noticing him. Among these children was Ashley Spinelli. She had been somewhat depressed for the past twelve months, spending most of her time alone in her room, or in the woods past her backyard. She had stood out there for hours on end. Somehow, just being in the same environment made her feel closer to her friend. Every month her and the others would meet at the park and write a letter, fold it into a paper airplane, and Vince would throw it as hard as he could into the trees, in hope that their friend would find it, and read it. Eleven had been cast into the forest, and only one of them had been found. The one that was now being carried in the backpack of the kid she had seen walking in front of her school.
The boy just kept going, paying absolutely no attention to the building to his left. He didn't want to make eye contact with anyone staring at him. He knew there were people staring at him, he had formed a sense of when he was being watched, and it had saved him from wolves many many times. He walked faster, wanting to get away from the discomfort it gave him. In the woods, staring had meant one of two things. He was a walking dinner, or he was about to be "rescued". Two things he wished to avoid at all costs. He cleared the line of sight from everyone in the school and slowed his pace, feeling a little safer. He focused his gase on his once white frayed untied shoelaces as they swung back and forth with every step he took. Left, right, left, rig...Argh! He stepped on on of them and tripped, nearly falling flat on his face. He coughed again and winced. It felt like he was once again being punched in the stomach. He sat down on the curb and began to tie his shoelaces. He was back on his feet in less than five seconds. He had learned to tie his shoelaces really quickly just in case he needed to make a fast get away. He didn't need to now, but he wanted to keep moving. It felt awkward to stand immobile in a world that was rushing around him. At least in the woods the trees stayed where they were. He also found it all so LOUD. In the woods, nothing made sounds this overwhelming. The car horns, the police sirens. It was all too much. He kept walking until the environment began to look a little more built up. He saw his destination ahead. He could see the giant red KELSO'S on sign above the red awnings of the small convenience store.
He smiled. Nothing here had changed. He crossed the street at the four way intersection and walked up to the store on the corner. He couldn't see Mr. Kelso behind the counter, but according to the hours sign posted on the inside of the door, it was open. He took a deep breath and hoped that no one would recognise him. He opened the door and the bell above it chimed out, alerting Mr. Kelso that he had a customer. The old man was standing on an old wooden ladder with old paint splotches all over it, placing the seventh of eight pieces of tape ont the banner he was attaching to the wall. With the sound of the doorbell, he looked up, and was surprised to see a young boy walking into his shop.
"Oh, well hello, shouldn't you be in school?" Asked the old shopkeeper putting his broom aside and greeting the boy.
The boy jumped. He knew it wasn't threatening, but he hadn't heard another human voice in a very long time. He shook his head. "No" he said slowly, getting used to talking, and the sound of his own voice again. He had no need for speech when he was alone in the woods. He sat down at one of the tall bar stools at the counter and sighed.
Mr. Kelso frowned. "You look kind of familiar. Have we met before?" He asked. The boy shook his head again.
"Alright then," said Mr. Kelso, somewhat concerned. "What can I get for you today?".
"Uh, can I get a strawberry frappe with extra syrup?" the boy asked.
"Sure" said Mr. Kelso as he turned to fill the order. As he worked he told the boy behind him, "you know, it's been a long time since anyone's asked for a strawberry frappe with extra syrup".
"Oh?" Asked the boy, trying to sound surprised. 'Dang it,' he thought. 'I shouldn't have gotten that, Mr. Kelso's bound to figuere out who I am now'.
"Yes, in fact I only had one customer who used to like tha..." Mr. Kelso trailed off. He stopped what he was doing to turn and look at his customer's face. His head raced. The kid resembled... no, it couldn't be... "TJ?" He gasped in shock.
"Hey Mr. Kelso" said TJ, calmly. He knew it was only a matter of time. "It's been a while". The two of them stared at each other. One in shock, the other trying to guess what the older man was planning to do. He'd get his answer. Mr. Kelso rushed over to the wall where there was a phone. TJ's eyes widened in horror. "No!" He screamed, jumping from his stool and running to stop the shopkeeper from calling the police, or worse, his house. "Mr. Kelso, please DON'T!". The old man froze, his hand hovering less than a centimeter away from the receiver. He looked over at the young boy.
"Why?" He asked, puzzled.
"I can't go back" TJ told the man, desperately trying to get him away from the phone. "I've spent the last year trying to get as far away from that place as I can. I only came back to say hello to my friends, then I'm outta here again".
"You've been away for a long time. Your parents should at least know that you're okay". Said Mr. Kelso picking up the phone. So he was calling his home number. Something he had acquired when TJ had fallen asleep in the store. Not wanting to make TJ walk home in his drowsy state, he had instead asked if he could call his parents so they could come to come and pick him up.
"No! I'm NOT going back. I can't!" TJ shouted as the first tears in a year began to form in his bloodshot eyes.
"Why not?" asked Mr. Kelso.
TJ went silent, not knowing whether or not he wanted to tell the old man or not. He just stared desperately at Mr. Kelso. "It's complicated" said TJ after deciding it wasn't for him to know.
Mr. Kelso considered what TJ had said, and slowly put the phone back on the receiver.
"Thank you" said TJ, relaxing a little.
"You can't tell me why?" asked Mr. Kelso. TJ shook his head. The shopkeeper knew he should call anyway, but he saw the desperation in the boys eyes. He sighed. "Alright, you sit down now, I've almost got you're frappe ready".
TJ did what he was told. He got back up on the bar stool and slouched over onto the counter. He tried to watch Mr. Kelso as he finished up the frappe, but realised his long chestnut hair was obstructing his vision. He blew it out of his face, only to have it fall back again.
"Letting it grow out I see" said Mr. Kelso, turning around and sliding the finished frappe over the counter to his customer.
"Ha. I'd get it cut if I could," said TJ sitting back up and agitatedly flicking it all to the side, hoping it stayed there. Nope. "but the second I walk into a barber shop they'll recognise me and call the police to take me back".
"Ah" said Mr. Kelso, watching TJ take the first sip of his frappe, and nearly choke. He laughed. "Taste has changed huh?".
"A bit uh... STRONGER than I remember" coughed TJ.
"That's understandable, you haven't had one in a year" said Mr. Kelso. "So tell me, how does one survive a year in the wilderness?" He asked.
"I don't really know" replied TJ. "I guess I just got lucky. It was green this year, so winter wasn't all that rough, spring and fall are easiest, but summer was really hot and humid this year, but that just helped the plants grow. Covers me better y'know?"
"Yes, but how did you feed yourself?" asked Mr. Kelso.
TJ immediately looked down. There was a hiatus from speech as TJ reflected on the past year. "I had to do a lot of things I'm not proud of Mr. Kelso" he said guiltily. "I've dumpster dived a lot. It's really gross, but it beats starving to death".
"Just that alone? I find that hard to believe".
"There are nuts and berries in the woods, I'll eat those sometimes, but I don't really come across those a whole lot".
"That's not all, you're still hiding something".
There was a moment of silence while TJ decided whether or not to tell Mr. Kelso. It was something he had still felt guilty about, something he had told himself that was necessary for his survival, but had still been the wrong thing to do. "There may be a few houses I broke into...".
"What! How many is 'a few'?" asked the old man, shocked.
"Does it matter? I still did it. I didn't want to do it, but I was starving! I hadn't eaten or had anything to drink in days. I had to do it!"
"What kind of things did you take?" asked the shopkeeper.
"Loafs of bread, cheese, crackers, water, small things that really wouldn't matter much if they went missing, but... I, I'm a criminal running in the dark. I don't want to live like that, but I can't live back there either. I don't... I'm just so... so lost!" TJ collapsed on the counter and began to cry softly into his arms, which made him cough again.
"Oh, stop that. You did what you had to do". Said Mr. Kelso.
"But I still broke into those houses. That, I didn't need to do. I could've starved. That would have been the better of two evils!" Said TJ, in between coughs, and looking up.
"But you know you wouldn't be here right now, going to see your friends again you if you had".
"If they even want to be friends anymore. I broke the law. I never thought I'd do that, but here I am four break ins and robberies later. Who in their right mind would be friends with a robber, huh?".
"How about friends with YOU?" TJ's expression changed immediately from one of despair and guilt, to one of utter confusion. His tears ceased falling.
"What the heck do you mean by that?"
"Stop thinking about what you are and start thinking about who you are. Who is TJ Detweiler?" said Mr. Kelso.
TJ fell silent for a while, letting this sink in, and then after a moment, looked up at the old man and said "I think I forgot that a long time ago".
Mr. Kelso was taken aback. He hadn't expected such dark language from a boy barely over his first decade of life. "Well um, it's about time you remember, because it's who you are that you're friends consider a friend. That's who they're expecting to come back".
"Well I don't mean to disappoint, but this past year's changed me. I got a heavy dose of the cold place the world really is".
"They'll be glad just to see you again. Don't worry too much".
"Yeah..." said TJ not really paying any attention, taking his backpack off and opening it. After rummaging through it for a bit, he found what he was looking for and pulled it out. A wrinkled paper airplane. The note from his friends to him. "I have to admit. I'm a little nervous to go back. I don't know what's gone down since I bailed from society, and I'm afraid of losing more than I've already lost. I don't think I can take losing the gang" he said, unfolding the paper airplane and once again reading his friend's words, even though he didn't have to. He knew the letter by heart.
Dear TJ,
It's been two months since you ran away and we're all starting to wonder where you are, and if you'll ever come back. We all hope you're alive and feeling well out there, wherever you are.
Nothing's been the same without you around, and it's getting harder and harder to stand up for own rights against Prickly and Finster. You were good at that, but without you, we just don't have the power, or the will to do it anymore. No one pulls pranks anymore, especially the elaborate ones you used to pull. Randall's not Ms. Finster's little minion anymore. He wasn't getting enough dirt on anyone without many people defying the rules as before. He's still a little weasel, but at least not Ms. Finster's little Weasel. Surprisingly, principal Prickly seems bored without you around to cause trouble for him, Mr. Finster as well. School just became even more dull and boring than what it was before. Something we didn't think was even possible.
It seems there isn't anyone here who doesn't miss you. Surprisingly, even Menlo has to drag himself through his days more and more now. We hope you change your mind and come stay with one of us though, you'd be away from home and be treated like family. And quit worrying about being intrusive! You're fine, and we all have room for one more kid in our houses.
If you're still out there though, and you find this letter, be safe and please visit sometime. We all miss you.
Your best friends,
Vince, Spinelli, Gretchen, Gus, and Mikey.
TJ smiled as he read the last of his friends' handwriting. Slowly, an idea floated across his mind. "Hey Mr. Kelso, do you have a pen or pencil could borrow?" He asked.
"Sure, is there any color in particular that you'd like?" He asked, reaching under the counter and pulling out a folgers coffee tin packed and overflowing with pens of all shapes, sizes, brands, and colors.
TJ let out a low whistle. "Wow" he said amazed. "That's um, quite the collection there. I'll take this one". He pulled a red click pen out of the mug. He gritted his teeth as about six or seven other pens followed and dropped on the counter, some rolling off and onto the floor.
"Whoops!" Mr. Kelso laughed, bending over to pick up the fallen writing utensils. "You won't believe how many people come in here and leave perfectly good pens on the floor" he said from under the counter. He came back up with the pens and put them back in the tin.
TJ smiled and under his friends' signatures, began to write a bit of his own. He didn't write a lot because he knew he'd be right there. Instead, he simply wrote 'I've missed you guys too -TJ". He refolded the piece of paper into the airplane and held it in his hands for a while, staring at it fondly.
"What's this?" asked Mr. Kelso, gesturing to the object in TJ's hands.
"They wrote it to me. They threw it into the woods, and I found it" said TJ slowly. I never thought about it this way but, maybe this is life's way of telling me that I belong with them. That it's my place".
"The woods certainly didn't think you were meant to be there" chuckled Mr. Kelso.
Almost as if to underline this point, TJ was sent into another fit of wild coughing and doubled over from the pain in his stomach. "No" he said In between coughs. "It really didn't". After recovering a bit and taking a few deep, wheezy breaths, TJ sat back up again and groaned. "Not good" he wheezed.
"Not at all" said a deeply concerned Mr. Kelso. "Here, take some of this" he suggested and he stepped out from behind the counter and walked over to a shelf in the far side of the store, from which he took a rectangular box and began to walk back toward the counter with it. TJ observed the box and realised to his horror what it was.
"Robitussin? Oh, please no! I'd rather start coughing up blood than take any of that stuff!" He implored, knowing that the stuff was strong to begin with. He knew having not tasted anything with bold flavor for a year that it'd only make it seem worse. Plus, he didn't have the money for it.
"It'll help, just take it. Besides that cough's making it easier for the cops to track you down". TJ knew this was true, but still was reluctant to take it.
"I can't afford it Mr. Kelso. It's too much money" he said.
"Then just have it. You need it more than most people who buy it anyhow".
"But Mr. Kelso!".
"Please" said the shopkeeper, holding out the box for him to take. TJ looked down at it, and slowly reached out and received the first gift he had been given in twelve months.
"Thanks Mr. Kelso" said TJ after a while.
"No problem at all" said the old man with a smile. TJ looked up and smiled back, but it vanished as he read the clock behind the shopkeeper.
"Yikes!" He exclaimed. Mr. Kelso spun around and looked at the clock
"What?" He asked, turning back around and watching TJ stuff the robitussin into his right jacket pocket and frantically try to zip up his backpack, still holding the paper airplane in his right hand.
"Thank you for everything Mr. Kelso, but I gotta be back at the school before recess starts in five minutes!" He explained.
"Oh!" Said Mr. Kelso. "Then yes you'd better hurry".
"Bye" said TJ, finally getting his backpack to zip closed. He swung it over his right shoulder and bolted for the door. Then he skidded to a halt remembering something. "Sorry Mr. Kelso. Almost forgot!" He said, fishing two quarters from his right jeans pocket.
"No, no" said Mr. Kelso, waving the boy off. "Just go, it's fine!" said Mr. Kelso, bringing fifty cents of his own out of his pocket and dropping it into the cash register.
"Really?"
"Really, now go back there and meet your friends!" He said with a smile.
TJ beamed. "Thank you so much Mr. Kelso" he said before bolting out the door and tearing off down the street. Just before the door closed, a faint "you're the greatest!" could be heard.
Mr. Kelso continued to smile as he saw the young boy run off down third street and toward his school. His daze didn't last however.
"ERIN!" Oh boy.
"Yes dear" said Mr. Kelso keeping his smile on.
"Did you just out more freebeez!?"
"It sure seems like that dear".
"How many times do I need to tell you to stop doing that! One of these days you're going to drive us right into the poor house!"
"Yes dear, I know dear" said Mr. Kelso as he walked back over to the wall where he still had one last piece of tape to apply to the banner before he was finished. He completes his work, folded his ladder and stepped back to observe his work.
"KELSO'S! Celebrating our 44th year of business".