The Hiking Writer

a short work of fiction

Alex Saunders life continued fairly uneventfully for the next few years, but a tension in him was building. It started slowly after that afternoon in the movie theatre, but it gathered steam over the years.

At the start of the school year several months later, the playground became an obstacle course of anxiety for Alex, especially on bright sunny days. He first felt his fear return when he stopped to watch the girls in his 2^nd grade class jump rope in tandem. As each girl stepped in to jump, Alex saw their shadows leave their owner with each pass of the rope. With each jump, a small ball of panic turned in his stomach and Alex resisted the urge to scream.

With a tiny moan, Alex turned away from the rope jumpers and looked for some way to relieve his anxiety. Everywhere he looked though, there were running children and with them, their dark counterparts trailing along the ground. Looking up to see where the sun was positioned, Alex walked slowly in that general direction with his head angled upward. The few sparse clouds in sky seemed to loosen the tight ball in his stomach with their non-threatening abstract fluffiness.

And so it became common over the next year to see Alex alone in his corner of the playground on sunny days, eyes turned skyward to watch the clouds or count birds. When the sky was overcast, Alex would join in with the other children at play. It was such a random behavior that no teachers noticed it that year, or the next few years for that matter.

At home, it was a different story.

Alex's mom noticed changes in her boy she didn't like, but she couldn't exactly put her finger on what was wrong. Whenever she asked Alex if anything was the matter, he would always reply with the same “Nope mom, I'm fine,” but her intuition kept warning her otherwise. Alex slowly started laughing less and less over time, and she never understood why until more than 2 years later.

It was a few weeks after his 9^th birthday, a late September evening that found Alex playing 4 square in his front driveway with a few neighborhood friends. Alex's mom was cleaning the kitchen listening to the kids at play outside with the front door of their small house left open, a breeze carrying the sounds of suburbia inside through the screen door.

Washing dishes from supper, Alex's mom watched the sun set slowly behind their modest home, the haze of the evening changing colors slowly from yellow to orange and then pink. Outside, the bounce of the ball and the kids at play became a metronome that marked the time for her. It was nearly 7:30 PM when the quiet murmur of noise from the front of the house was cut short by a strange shriek she recognized as her son. Rushing to the front door, she heard another child begin crying and her panic level doubled as she slammed the screen door open and rushed out to see what was going on.

She found Alex lying prostrate on the front driveway, his friend David was next to his shoulder trying to see if Alex was ok. The other two children were backing away from the scene as if they could fade into the background and avoid getting in trouble.

Rushing to Alex's side, she quelled the urge to cry in her gut and asked David “What happened?”

David looked up and told her “I'm not sure Mrs. Saunders. Alex was looking toward the street when a car drove by. He yelled and fell over flat on his face.” David's voice was quavering on the edge of crying; he was trying to keep it together.

Putting her hand on Alex's shoulder she rolled him over on his back to look at his face. Above his right eye was a small cut and growing goose egg sized bump that appeared to be where Alex's head had hit the driveway. As he lay flat for a moment, his eyes fluttered open as a small drop of blood ran down the side of his forehead. Blinking awake, he saw his mother and began to cry. At first, it was a few hitched sobs and then steady bawling as his Mom helped to his feet and held his head to her bosom. “It's alright Alex, it's alright,” she said to him a few times while rocking him slightly.

She told the other children that it was ok, that they should go home now (thanking David for his help) and she slowly walked Alex toward the front door of the house. “You're ok Alex” she reassured him “Let's get some ice on that bump though”. She opened the screen door with Alex in tow, his crying receding now as the memory of the incident began to subside.

Once in the kitchen, Alex sat down at the kitchen table and held a damp paper towel to the bump on his forehead while his Mom filled a zip-lock baggie with ice and then filled it with water. She then took another paper towel and wrapped the ice baggie in it, wetting it slightly under the kitchen faucet. She handed the cold damp bundle to Alex and told him to put the compress on his bump. “That should make it feel better Alex.” she said to reassure him.

Alex wasn't crying any longer, as he usually did, he was calming down quickly. His Mom poured him lemonade from the refrigerator and set the glass in front of Alex on the table. She then sat down at the chair opposite and asked, “So what happened out there Alex? Why did you yell?”

Alex looked at his Mom, and said, “I'm not sure mom,” his breathing began speeding up slightly with his obvious fear. “I was just playing 4 square and I noticed how pretty the sunset was getting. And then Betty hit the ball at David and he missed and the ball rolled toward the street.”

With that he closed his eyes and his Mom reached over to cover his hand on the table, “It's ok Alex, go on. What else happened?”

“Well, as I turned toward the ball Mom, I saw my shadow stretching all the way down the driveway. My head was right in the middle of the street. Well, my shadow head, you know what I mean.” His voice began to tremble slightly and his lower lip quivered. Alex's Mom rubbed his hand and said “Go on.”

Alex looked at his Mom, his eyes beginning to water and said, ”That's when I saw Mr. Waverly's car from down the block. Mr. Waverly was driving right down the middle of the street and his car ran right over my head.”

A tear dropped from his eye and ran down his cheek, “I know it was only my shadow Mom, but it felt like my head was really squashed. There was this pain that was REALLY strong and that's when I yelled and then I don't remember nothing until you woke me up.” Alex sobbed again slightly with the memory of the pain.

Alex's Mom, slightly shocked, asked “But it's ok now right Alex? Other than your bump, you're not in any pain right now?” Alex's sobs ran down quickly and he said “No, I don't feel no pain right now Mom.”

“Well that's good” she said and smiled. Inside, her heart was clenched tight with fear. She had to be strong for her boy she thought. “Drink some of your lemonade, you'll feel better Alex,” she said.

Alex picked up his glass and took a long drink and set it down again, already feeling a little better, his breathing returning to its normal rhythm. Looking right at his mother, Alex smiled slightly and said “I guess I should have listened to him when he told me this would happen huh mom?”

Not knowing exactly what was going on, she asked, “Who told you this was going to happen Alex?”