Lost Summer

He was fascinated by the feel of Julie’s skin. It felt like rubber and smelled like chemicals. Two mornings ago, Julie had been vibrant and vital, running around in circles and sticking out her tongue at him as she ran with her hair flying in the wind. She laughed so joyfully that he thought the flowers and trees laughed with her. She was like a summer breeze. Now, summer is gone. The laughter and running and teasing are gone too and won’t ever come back.

He turned and walked past his mother who was still crying and hugging on to his aunt out of the parlor where Julie was laid out His aunt reached out for him, but he pulled away and ran outside. He wanted to be alone. He’d never been alone before, not real alone, not without Julie. She was his baby sister and always a pest and a bother and a friend and a real, live person who loved him so much. She always said, “I lov’b you s’much.” It was this memory that he didn’t know what to do with. All the love that Julie held inside for him, all that life, all her springy curls that bounced up and down for him. Where did it all go? That’s what he wanted to know. Where did Julie go?

Did her love and life suddenly float up to heaven when she fell. Cause he was there and knew that Julie was gone. Not there any longer. She lay still as soon as the bullet hit the back of her head. Her bounce and all the laughter was gone, right then. Where did the bounce go?

He lifted his head and looked up into the baby blue sky at the clouds floating by. Maybe the bounce went up there into the clouds. He noticed an ant crawling from one side of the cracked sidewalk to the next crack. He wondered where the ant would go if he stomped his foot down on it. What would leave? He decided to do it. He raised his tennis shoe and was about to step on the ant, but then paused. No. Enough dead around here for now. He remembered when their cat Jojo got hit by a car. When he found her the next day, she was stiff like a board and all messed up with black blood. Her eyes were smoky and her fir was matted and dirty from the tire. He cried when Jojo died.

He didn’t cry for Julie. Why can’t I cry for Julie? He felt puzzled and cold, not sad yet. Not crying yet. He shivered. Julie took the summer away, that’s what she did. When she left, that bouncy fun part of summer left too. He lifted his head and stared at the sun. It was the wrong color now just like everything else.

He picked up a whiskey bottle from the grass and threw it hard against the brick wall of the building. It broke in half but not enough. So he picked up the broken half and threw it again. Then he found a broken brick and threw that at the brick siding but it only made a thudding noise. No fun in that. He wanted to make noise. Make summer fun again. The next piece of brick he threw he aimed at the window and felt joy and excitement when he heard it crash down on to the sidewalk. He ran, and ran and ran.

But someone was running just as fast after him. Someone with big footsteps and heavy shoes and a big breath huffing and puffing. He ran faster and faster but the slap, slap of hard shoes on the cement walk kept following him.

Finally, so out of breath, he couldn’t run anymore. He stopped and bent over holding his belly because it hurt so bad. Suddenly a pair of big, hard arms grabbed him and lifted him up off the ground. He fought and kicked but it didn’t do any good. He was caught like in a vise, held tight and firm. It was then that he began to cry. Fear pulled the tears down his dusty cheeks in big globs. He screamed out as he cried, loud screams mixed up in salt tears and snot.

“Let me go, let me go.” He screamed.

He could smell whiskey breath as the man with the arms yelled, “Hah, I’ll let you go.” And he felt himself flying through the air and hitting the sidewalk like a pumpkin squash. He was too stunned to move for a moment but when he opened his eyes all he could see was a grown man with days old whiskers and blood shot eyes leaning over him and drooling as he spoke.

“Broke my last bottle. Damn brat. Take it out of your hide.”

He saw the man’s huge hand raise up as if to slap him, so he closed his eyes.

That was when he saw Julie. She was floating in front of him and wearing a halo around her whole body as if she was an angel. A white gown covered her body and her skin glowed like the moon.

“Don’t move, Marty, don’t move.” She whispered as she began to fade out.

Still with his eyes closed, Marty watched her float away like a drifting fog floating over a lake. Then she was gone again, just as fast as she’d came. His own danger forgotten for the moment, he squeezed his eyes even together so maybe Julie would come back.

“Please come back Julie, please.”

Suddenly he smelled the whiskey breath blowing past his face once more and remembered the danger he was in. Every nerve in his body wanted to jump up and run, but Julie had told him to stay still. Marty forced himself to lay very still like he was already dead, like a corpse in the morgue. Then the whiskey breath went away but Marty still didn’t dare move. He waited a while with his eyes closed long after the man left and he waited for Julie to come back. She didn’t. Finally he opened his eyes and sat up on the sidewalk. The big man was gone and so was Julie.

I am really alone now, he sobbed. Wait! No, that isn’t right, I can’t be alone. Julie was right here by my side when I needed help. She was right here. He looked at the place where she had floated only a few moments before and wondered if she belonged to the wind now. Yah, maybe she is riding on the wind when it blows past my face or maybe she is dancing around like the sun dances on water.

Suddenly, he came to a new understanding. Even if summer goes away, it comes back again next year. If Julie is summer then even if she goes she will keep coming back like she came back this time. Yes, Julie rides on the summer wind. “Thank you Julie,” he called out to the soft breeze that seemed to sift through his hair.

He skipped back to the funeral parlor just as the service was ending. He put his arms around his mother in the front row.

“Don’t cry, mom, Julie didn’t go too far.”

As he said the words he pictured the wind dancing papers off the sidewalk and singing through the trees. “She lives in the wind of summer.”

The End