Chapter Four
I left her house around eight p.m., close to the time when her parents should have walked in. I don't really think they were thrilled with the idea of the two of us being alone in the house - they had been fifteen, too, a long time ago. So usually we tried to cover up for ourselves and not showing them we did spend time together alone, playing, as it called, adults' games. Although this time, we decided - no, I decided, - to back off and stay on the "under 16" level.
Now I was free to run to the place that was drawing me into it's secret inside; I was free to search for it, too. But I had nowhere to start from. My birthday had turned to a twisted knot of mystery, of odd feelings and events, which I couldn't find myself into. I looked at the dark blue sky and felt like screaming, "if there is God up there, why won't He tell me what to do now?" - but I didn't. No need to cause a mess in the middle of the street. So I thought of the possibility of just walk - walk and walk until my feet will ache, or until I will get to what I was longing for all that time I was with Enid. My sweet little Enid. Suddenly I had guilt creeping up my whole body, as if I've done something bad to her. Maybe it was because I wanted to be somewhere else while being with her.
So I walked, and walked, and walked. It resembled a walk through life, the one I've made through the whole city. It's walking on an unknown road, not knowing where you're heading, what is there around the next corner, who will you meet, who will see you, who will greet you on your way and who will frown at your sight. It's walking, as though in the darkness, searching for the destination, but only few of us know what they're trying to reach, what is there waiting for them at the end of the road; mostly we all, like blind newborn kittens, walk without any purpose, with the attitude of "what was meant to be will be". I surely didn't know, and walked like a blind kitten.
Then I reached the woods. I walked all the way to where I was with Enid this morning, that seemed to be so long ago, so historic, and not an event that had happened only hours ago. From there, the way to my destination started to be familiar, and I already knew where I was going. It was relieving, when I knew towards what I was heading; it was frightening, too. I didn't know why I was going there; or, maybe, part of me knew but wasn't able, ready, willing or whatever to say it the way the whole me would know.
It amazed me to know that I remembered the way so clearly, as if I already walked here thousands of times, just like I walked to Enid's house. Suddenly, thinking of her now felt almost like a sin, as if I was taking a white, clean, new sheet and dropping it to dirt. I don't even know why. Somehow, as much as Enid fitted perfectly in my whole life, she didn't quite fit in into this weird situation I was creating now. I felt dizzy again, just like this morning, as I reached my destination.
The house looked even cozier as the twilight covered it almost entirely. I looked up to the attic window, where Chris' room was, hoping to see him there, but the window was black. No light. Considering the fact it was only a few minutes after nine p.m., he couldn't be asleep. He was either out somewhere or at the living room with his parents - there the windows were lit with electric light, and I saw shadows moving. There were more than three shadows - either he had sibling or they had guests. Either way, I couldn't just knock on the door and ask for Chris. I felt as though they would understand immediately why I was there, why did I come all the way from across the city and the woods; and it disturbed me because I didn't know that myself, why did I walk all that way!
"What are you doing here?" a voice asked me, and I turned to face the person who spoke to me, his voice familiar.
"Hi… I… Uh… I just dropped by… Chris…" I muttered, suddenly sending a blessing and a thankyou to the skies for their covering my flushed cheeks with darkness.
"I was sitting out here, and watching you, as you were standing here for about ten minutes, hesitating. What's the matter? Why aren't you at your birthday party?"
I didn't want to tell him Enid had lied to him about that. "I left it for a while. I don't really like alternative, and they decided to play it for an hour or so."
"It's quite a long walk you took for not hearing the music," he smiled at me. I felt like a complete idiot.
"Why aren't you inside with your parents, anyway?" I changed the subject.
"We have guests." So I was right about that. "And I don't feel comfortable with them. They all are a big bunch of jerks."
"Oh, really? Does that include your parents?"
"No. They're cool, for people their age. They're hitting fifty pretty soon. It's just that all their friends are a bunch of airheads who think themselves to responsible of guiding me to the right way."
"Aren't all adults aged fifty and above act that way?"
"I don't know. What I know is, it used to reach me in a way, when I was a lot younger; now, I listen to their so-called smart talk and all hear is, a bunch of crap."
"How old are you, anyway?" I asked, suddenly eager to know.
"Eighteen. Today."
"So we share a birthday," I stated. It was somehow feeling warm inside, when I knew it. We shared something so individual, so personal, a birthday; nevermind the fact he was three years older. "Why didn't you tell me that when Enid said I had a birthday?"
"I don't think it's a big deal. My parents do. That's why we have guests. But it's more them celebrating the occasion than me. I don't care."
He was my height exactly. I was quite tall, and he was just like me, his hair, now combed, was falling on his shoulders, still slightly wavy, his eyes piercing me right through, asking questions I didn't want to be asked and telling things I tried not to notice for the sake of keeping my sanity on its place.
"So, what are you doing here, now for real?" he asked. "You couldn't have taken a walk through the woods just to run away from alternative music. And after all, I do believe that at your own party, you can control the music."
You're busted, Zachary Hanson. Caught in the act. But what act?
"To tell you the truth, I don't know," I admitted. "I just allowed my feet to take me here."
"Instincts. Nice of you to let them overcome your common sense. It can be relieving."
"So that counts as an answer?"
"Yes. That counts. Everything counts, basically, except the old and beaten 'you grow up first, then you'll understand'."
We both laughed at that sentence we all heard so many times at our childhood year and the teenage ones, too. It was indeed the most hateful sentence in the world.
"Wanna go to my room and sit there? It's pretty chilly down here," he suggested, and just like he said it, I let my instincts overcome my common sense and I went after him. "I know a way to get to my room without crossing the living room with all those old dumb people," he said. There was a tree on the back side of the house, with think, long branches that were reaching the window of the attic on that side; he pointed at the tree. "That is how I can escape my room or go to it without meeting my parents on the way." We climbed, he first, showing me the way to do it, then me, to the nearly top of the tree, from which we easily slid to his room.
"That's cool," I sighed, meaning the tree.