Coop

Coop

  Elle Bee

  Copyright 2014 Elle Bee

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  Table of Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Prologue to The Hitchhiker

  About Elle Bee

  Other Titles by Elle Bee

  Connect with Elle Bee

  Chapter 1

  “Jim, honey, dinner’s ready!”

  “I’ll be right down!”

  I closed my journal and stood up from my desk. Clicked the light off and bounded down the stairs. Clunk. Clunk. Clunk. And one last JUMP where I leaped over the last two steps and landed loudly on the tile.

  “My goodness, Jim! What’s with all the noise?” Came my mother’s voice from the kitchen.

  “Uh. Nothing!” I exclaimed walking down the hall. On my way down the hall I spotted a small pile of legos on a shelf. One of my stashes. Without much thought I scooped them up and started assembling them into a creation.

  “Jim! Please come set the table!”

  “Sure, mom!” my feet continued down the hall as my hand shoved my new creation in my blue jeans pocket. As it did so, it discovered some change. I turned in to the kitchen and made a mental note to count my change after setting the table.

  “How nice of you to drop in!” My mother’s sweet voice filled my ears. I knew what she wanted to say was more along the lines of, “Jim, a snail comes to dinner faster than you.” So I just smiled and gave her a hug. As I hugged her stomach the very words I had imagined her saying filled my mind. When this happened before I would groan and push whoever was touching me away, causing them to think I was mad at them. Luckily, I learned quickly, and now just hugged tighter and then released. Which is what I currently did with my mother.

  I then proceeded to set the table. When I was finishing getting drinks, my dad walked in the door. I could tell he had had a long day and was exhausted. He greeted us and then plopped down at the table. His chair squeaked from his weight, making me chuckle.

  “Son!” My dad said once we were all seated and digging in. “What do you want for your birthday? Its only five days away.” He chuckled, giving me the suspicious thought he had already bought it. This posed a problem, he rarely bought what I wanted, and it wouldn’t be good for me to say what I REALLY wanted if he had already gotten something else.

  “Uhhhh…New socks?” I asked through a full mouth of pasta.

  “HaHaHa!” He responded, immediately picking up on my humor.

  I finished chewing and swallowed. “Hand me a napkin, please, dad.” I made a show of not being able to reach the napkins in the middle of the table and ignored the one my knife rested on.

  My, dad, who wasn’t always the most observant, scooped up a couple napkins and handed them over. Right before I accepted them, I said, “So about my birthday…” Leading him to once again think about the gift he had already bought. Then, as I took them, the tips of my fingers brushed his.

  I exhaled the breath I didn’t know I was holding. He had bought me fishing supplies. I hated fishing. It wasn’t anything personal. I just didn’t get anything out of it. I’d much rather swim, or rock climb, anything but fish. Unfortunately, my dad knew my thoughts on fishing and was constantly trying to change them.

  “Yes, yes, about your birthday…” My dad prodded. I often got lost in thought and forgot to continue conversations. Luckily, my parents were used to kindly steering me back to reality.

  I bit my lip. There was no way to let my dad down easy. I had to say it. I had to say I had finally taken an interest in fishing.

  I took a chug of milk, I chugged and chugged until it was gone to buy some time. I then shakily returned it to the table and took a well needed breath.

  “I think I’d like some fishing stuff, Dad.” The word tasted like vinegar in my throat. I took a bite of Pasta to dilute the taste.

  My parents eyed each other with a look I didn’t understand. Then they both turned on me. If I thought in any way they could guess my secret, I would feel caught in the lie. But there was no way they could know.

  “Jim, you hate fishing!” My dad blurted out.

  I could feel my face going pale. I hadn’t yet perfected my ability to lie convincingly. If they started an interrogation I would crack...and then I would end up in a scary hospital, with everyone thinking I lost my marbles.

  I forced the thoughts out of my head and returned myself to the conversation. “I figured I’d give it another try. “I know how much you enjoy it. I figured it would give us an activity to do together.” The last word “Together” Came out a bit high pitched, other than that, I thought my lie was pretty convincing, much better than I used to do.

  My mom looked at me quizzically. Lately, she had been giving me this look quite frequently, and I had no idea what it meant. I was terrified she was starting to think I was crazy, or lying just for the heck of it. Honestly, that wasn’t the case. I wanted more than anything to tell them the truth, to tell them I was cursed. That everything they thought and felt crashed into my head when they touched me. But I couldn’t.

  As I pondered my mom’s eyes boring into my very soul my dad had began eating again. He was eating fast, like he wanted to leave the table. Somehow, I had upset him. I pushed the food around on my plate, my hunger had deserted me.

  Eventually, my dad finished eating and left the table. My mom looked unsure of what to do. A few minutes later, she got up from the table and scraped her plate into the trash, she hadn’t eaten much.

  “Jim.” She said as she walked over to give me a hug. “You don’t have to pretend to be someone else, we love you the way you are. For whom you are.” She gingerly rubbed my cheek. “Your dad is just worried about you. You have been cooping yourself up in your room, not eating, and lying to us. And before this started, you would shriek like our touch hurt you. Even now you flinch when I rub your cheek.” She was sad and confused. When she hugged me I could tell she was thinking there was something desperately wrong. She was even considering putting me in counseling.

  When she walked away, I turned back to the dinner I had no intention of eating. I couldn’t help but wonder, what would hurt them more? The lies? Or the Truth?