第五话

There were two sets of seats across from the other one, and there were plenty of empty ones. This boy didn’t really need any more than that.

His thoughts went back to the journal he had brought along with him, and he wondered where his mother got it. Was it an antique she had bought at auction

and then kept in the attic, or was it something she’d gotten herself when he was younger? She must have had quite a collection of things if she had kept it this whole time… But maybe she hadn’t wanted him to see them anymore. She knew he liked reading stories. Maybe she never told him about them

because they reminded her of him and not because she didn’t care. And that made him sad.

He remembered another memory he had from before she died. They were in their room, the same one as always. He was sitting on the bed and she was standing by the window, looking out over the fields.

. A few clouds sailed past and illuminated the dark landscape with bright flashes of lightning. His mother turned back to him and said, “You know what I wish you would do right now? Go down and play in your garden.” She gestured towards the windowsill with her finger. “

Go on. Go and play,” she said, “and keep quiet for a while, alright?” He nodded solemnly. It wouldn’t do to startle his mother and scare her out of her wits. He stood up, took his crutches, hobbled to the door and left.

Now, he thought, I can go outside and play. He walked slowly down the stairs and into the kitchen. He grabbed a loaf of bread and a knife and started cutting it. He heard footsteps behind him and turned around. His mother was standing there, smiling at him. “Good morning, sweetheart,” she said. “

Are you going outside today too?” “Yes. I’m gonna play. Can I go?” He felt nervous, excited even, but he couldn’t help the smile tugging at his lips. “Of course you can. Just try not to fall out of the tree.”

“Alright. I will.” He turned back to his food and continued cutting. His mother went to sit at the table, and then she smiled again. It looked strange, unnatural. Her smile was never genuine, and it always ended with tears. He still didn’t understand why.

Why did his father leave? Why couldn’t he just stay home and be happy? What could possibly be so bad about his wife and son? And yet… his parents always looked so sad, when they talked about him. He tried so hard to pretend that he didn’t hear them, and sometimes they’

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