Wednesday, August 5, 2015

PS: The Tent

I want to open the door.
I want to go out and see what's inside.
She won't let me. She says it's dangerous.
No it's not, I say. I'll just look.
She says no.
When I went to bed, it wasn't there. My yard was the same as always.
This morning, I jumped up when the sun hit my eyes. I ran to her room. Her curtains were open. Her hands were on her hips. She saw it first.
...
I want to go out.
No, she says.
I need to go out.
...
A man walks past the window. His shirt is so bright. Stripes, too. I guess yellow. But not like my yellow.
...
I need to go out, I say to her.
She doesn't answer.
I grab my dinosaurs and sit at the window. I pretend to play. But I don't care about about dumb dinosaurs.
...
The doorbell scares us both. I knock down my dinosaurs. She puts her coffee on the counter and walks to the front door.
I wait too long. The lock won't move. I try to run out before it opens and I bump my head.
I'm not crying. My eyes just water sometimes.
I know, she says. Let's have a snack.
Goldfish are boring.
Would you rather have carrots?
She knows I hate carrots. I eat the goldfish. I bite them hard and make pieces fly onto the counter.
That's enough, she says.
I bite another goldfish head off. She takes a sip of her coffee.
...
Her voice is different when she talks on the phone. She watches me. Even when she's not looking, she's watching.
I stare at it.
I need to see what's inside.
More men in bright shirts go inside.
I wave to them. Take me! Take me!
They don't see me.
I sink. My head smears the glass. My nose makes dots every time I move. I need to see.
...
I start a list of what's inside.
Gold, for sure.
Maybe diamonds.
And snakes. Or lizards.
Or maybe it's a secret door to a place I don't know. Like that movie.
The men walk out. One lights a cigarette and leans on my tree.
I hate him. He knows what's inside. And he's smoking by my tree.
Must be gold.
...
Put your shoes on. We need to go shopping, she says.
I don't move.
Did you hear me?
I don't blink.
She holds her purse and waits.
Let's go, she says. She walks to the door.
Opens and closes it.
I stay very still. Maybe she'll forget me.
I see her come around the corner of the house. She doesn't get in the car.
She's walking straight to it!
I jump up and bang on the window.
Hey! Hey!
She waves to come out.
I turn and trip on my dinosaurs. I don't care that my knee is burning. I open the door and run.
When I get there, she's already talking to the smoking man.
This is my son, she says.
I don't say hi. I see a man coming out, and I try to look through him. I twist away and look behind him.
I see it.
It's better than gold.
It's a huge hole. Dirt everywhere. Two men are inside the hole. I can only see their hats.
A huge hole. It's in my yard. And it's mine.


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