day… I couldn't forget if I tried.”
“Tell me.” My request sounded more like a plea.
Her brow puckered as if in disappointment. “You don't remember?”
“I do,” I assured her. “But if you don't mind, I'd like to relive it through your eyes.”
She tried to suppress a smile, and nodded. “Okay. Where should I start?”
“What's the first thing you remember?”
“A bike ride!” she began. “Yeah… You came and took me out for a bike ride. But you left something at home… your wallet! You wanted to get me one of those, uh, bocconottos from Rosa's Bakery, because you knew I loved them so much. So we went back to your house, but you got derailed. Your dad's car was parked in the driveway, and you weren't expecting him so early. So we went back inside through the back door, and we heard him talking with an older man in the living room. He was a realtor. He was telling your dad about the house having been sold as he'd requested, and that his offer on the new one, a hundred miles away, had been accepted.
“I remember you went pale and staggered backwards into the wall. But then you grabbed me by the hand and ran out with me into the backyard. You told me you were running away, and that you were taking me with you.” She snickered sheepishly, avoiding my eyes for a moment, our hands exploring each other’s as if with minds of their own. “I remember smiling and saying okay.” she added, blushing.
“You wanted to leave right away. But I convinced you to wait until midnight, because I knew everybody'd be looking for us otherwise. So we readied our backpacks and hid in my Aunt Becky's cellar. I thought she'd never find us there, because of the old armoire, remember?”
I nodded in response, remembering the large, stand-alone wardrobe Mrs. Montgomery kept in the cellar. The tall, double-door, mahogany monster used to serve us well when playing hide-and-seek during the endless summers at Mrs. Montgomery's house. She could never find us, especially with all the clutter she kept around the cellar. As strange as it sounds, this piece of furniture became our secret hideout after an incident that happened when Yvette was about ten. She went missing after a stupid kid from school said something cruel about her father abandoning her. Mrs. Montgomery went crazy looking for Yvette.
But it was me who found her, crying in that closet. She was crouching in a corner with her arms wrapped around her knees. I remember crawling inside and hugging her. I cried, too—not only because I understood the pain of being abandoned, but because I saw my little blue-eyed angel hurting. We made a promise then that if we ever felt the need to cry again, we'd do it in there, where no one else could see us.
We cried a lot.
“Yeah.” She let out a sigh and continued, “I remember you pulling me into the closet when we heard people coming into the house. We knew we were busted. But you still closed those heavy double doors on us and asked me to be quiet. Then, as we heard them descending the squeaky stairs, you cupped the back of my head and told me the strangest thing.” She paused and frowned into space. “You said… 'Don't worry. Not even Space and Time can keep us apart. We're bound to find each other again.' …And then you promised.”
Her face went blank for a moment. But then she snapped out of it and laughed quietly, tightening her hold on my hand. “You sure were a strange boy,” she added. “Always adding science to everything you said, always trying to make sense of things when you knew they were senseless. It made it very difficult to read you sometimes. To this day, I have no idea what you tried to say to me in that closet.” She smiled.
“Funny you should say that,” I noted, “because it wasn't until tonight that I actually found the meaning of those words myself.”
Her eyes flew back to mine to meet my solemn gaze, her expression skeptical. She then looked down at our entwined hands and considered
“Tell me.” My request sounded more like a plea.
Her brow puckered as if in disappointment. “You don't remember?”
“I do,” I assured her. “But if you don't mind, I'd like to relive it through your eyes.”
She tried to suppress a smile, and nodded. “Okay. Where should I start?”
“What's the first thing you remember?”
“A bike ride!” she began. “Yeah… You came and took me out for a bike ride. But you left something at home… your wallet! You wanted to get me one of those, uh, bocconottos from Rosa's Bakery, because you knew I loved them so much. So we went back to your house, but you got derailed. Your dad's car was parked in the driveway, and you weren't expecting him so early. So we went back inside through the back door, and we heard him talking with an older man in the living room. He was a realtor. He was telling your dad about the house having been sold as he'd requested, and that his offer on the new one, a hundred miles away, had been accepted.
“I remember you went pale and staggered backwards into the wall. But then you grabbed me by the hand and ran out with me into the backyard. You told me you were running away, and that you were taking me with you.” She snickered sheepishly, avoiding my eyes for a moment, our hands exploring each other’s as if with minds of their own. “I remember smiling and saying okay.” she added, blushing.
“You wanted to leave right away. But I convinced you to wait until midnight, because I knew everybody'd be looking for us otherwise. So we readied our backpacks and hid in my Aunt Becky's cellar. I thought she'd never find us there, because of the old armoire, remember?”
I nodded in response, remembering the large, stand-alone wardrobe Mrs. Montgomery kept in the cellar. The tall, double-door, mahogany monster used to serve us well when playing hide-and-seek during the endless summers at Mrs. Montgomery's house. She could never find us, especially with all the clutter she kept around the cellar. As strange as it sounds, this piece of furniture became our secret hideout after an incident that happened when Yvette was about ten. She went missing after a stupid kid from school said something cruel about her father abandoning her. Mrs. Montgomery went crazy looking for Yvette.
But it was me who found her, crying in that closet. She was crouching in a corner with her arms wrapped around her knees. I remember crawling inside and hugging her. I cried, too—not only because I understood the pain of being abandoned, but because I saw my little blue-eyed angel hurting. We made a promise then that if we ever felt the need to cry again, we'd do it in there, where no one else could see us.
We cried a lot.
“Yeah.” She let out a sigh and continued, “I remember you pulling me into the closet when we heard people coming into the house. We knew we were busted. But you still closed those heavy double doors on us and asked me to be quiet. Then, as we heard them descending the squeaky stairs, you cupped the back of my head and told me the strangest thing.” She paused and frowned into space. “You said… 'Don't worry. Not even Space and Time can keep us apart. We're bound to find each other again.' …And then you promised.”
Her face went blank for a moment. But then she snapped out of it and laughed quietly, tightening her hold on my hand. “You sure were a strange boy,” she added. “Always adding science to everything you said, always trying to make sense of things when you knew they were senseless. It made it very difficult to read you sometimes. To this day, I have no idea what you tried to say to me in that closet.” She smiled.
“Funny you should say that,” I noted, “because it wasn't until tonight that I actually found the meaning of those words myself.”
Her eyes flew back to mine to meet my solemn gaze, her expression skeptical. She then looked down at our entwined hands and considered
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