The number of people that sat outside during lunch seemed to dwindle a little more every day. Winter was on its way. Tim and his cousin Kara were among the few who were willing to brave the fall chill. Tim was now an 8th grader and his final year of middle school was not proving to be as dreadful as everyone had said it would be. Kara was a grade younger than Tim and appreciated how kind Tim was to her; they ate lunch together outside every day.
The sun brought Tim joy. Sitting outside on the grass, he could snag only a few moments of sunlight – as the large clouds passed in and out of view of the sun. When the sun passed behind a cloud, its light and heat faded imperceptibly. But as it burst through the clouds again, he was filled immediately with warmth, and the world burst with color. The large soccer field popped with green, Kara’s blond hair shone like gold, and goosebumps prickled across Tim’s back and arms. Sometimes the sun stayed so long that when Tim bent over – his black t-shirt pressed against his back and slightly burned his skin. When the sun was out – Tim felt like smiling.
“ARE YOU EVEN LISTENING to me!?” Kara interjected. His cousin had been talking about Ms. Huff for the past few minutes, and Tim hadn’t been listening. “Yeah,” Tim quickly responded with quick reassuring nods. “I don’t believe you,” Kara retorted harmlessly, as she looked down at his hands tearing the grass. Kara had English with Ms. Huff before lunch every day — and she seemed to do something nasty to Kara every class period. Tim took English from Ms. Huff last year and never had any problems. But he wasn’t surprised to hear that Kara was. Kara was as sweet as a person could be – but she was tiny, had a round face, gobs of acne, wore coke-bottle thick glasses, loved freely, and subsequently was an easy target for bullies.
Kara looked over her shoulder at a group of girls sitting behind her about 20 yards away. “You’ve been looking at her this whole time,” Kara said far too loudly. Tim blushed and looked at his feet crossed in front of him with great intensity. “Kara!” Tim whispered anxiously, “I told you to not bring that up! I never should’ve told you.” “No, it’s cute! You should ask her on a date.” Kara said through a pitying smile. “Oh my gosh Kara, would you just stop!? She can freaking hear you!” Tim said through more fervent whispers as an unrestrained smile barely crept through.
GRACE HAD BEAUTIFUL RED hair, and fair skin. And in spite of it burning easily she loved being in the sun as much as Tim and Kara. The only reason this group of girls were out on the lawn still was because of her. Everyone loved Grace. She was smart and kind. She was in all the plays and had been on student council all three years of middle school.
Kara’s encouragement, as unwelcome as it was, remained in Tim’s head for the rest of the day. He only had two classes left and he shared the last one with Grace. Tim wanted to go out with Grace, and he was done being too afraid to say how he felt.
TIM SAT DOWN FOR his final class of the day, his favorite class. This was the one class he had with Grace. It was shop class, and he loved it. His teacher, Mr. Durman was a tall, kind and humorous man with a large mustache. Before their time in the shop, Mr. Durman always shared a bit of life advice with his students – usually in the form of a story. The stories made the student’s think, and of course also made them laugh. After each story he would pose a question to the class and give them time to answer privately in their notebooks.
Today’s story was about a date Mr. Durman went on in high school. He had gone to the homecoming dance with an energetic popular girl. After the dance, on the way home sitting in the back seat – to teenage Mr. Durman’s great surprise the girl laid down the top half of her body on his lap. She laid her back on his thighs and was just “yapping away.” He explained how he couldn’t believe he was on a date with this girl, let alone that she might be interested in him like this. “I didn’t hear a word she said,” Mr. Durman said whimsically. The students laughed as he pantomimed not knowing where to place his hands. “Eventually, I tried to casually just put my hands behind my head – like, ‘yeah, this is totally normal for me.’” His advice for the day was for the girls, “make sure if you ever do this to a guy, that you lay on your side so the guy has somewhere to put his hands.”
The story made Tim laugh; it also made Grace laugh. The story gave Tim courage, made him feel like he wasn’t too weird for a girl like Grace to like him. While the story was being told he worked up the courage to look in Grace’s direction occasionally. He wrote in his notebook that he was going to “ask her out.”
When picking partners for the day he asked Grace if she would be his. She said yes, and together they worked on their projects. Grace was building a shelf, and Tim was working on a metal box. Throughout the whole time they barely said a word to each other. Tim kept wondering when he would ask her. His palms became sweaty and he became more and more afraid as the class period flew by.
The bell rang, and Grace walked past him on her way out of the class. Tim grabbed his bag off the back of his chair and followed her out. He walked behind her by a few yards. It seemed that before he had even decided to, he blurted out her name — “Grace!”
Grace turned her head quickly. For a split second Tim saw her red hair flick over her shoulders, but then immediately sunk his gaze to the floor. Grace surveyed the walking crowd for a moment with confusion, looking for who called her name. Tim effortlessly blended into the masses.
TIM SAT OUTSIDE TO wait for his brother every day. At first he would sit against the side of the school until everyone got picked-up, then he would move to the bench. As he settled against the side of the school he watched Mitchell sit on the bench. Mitchell was one of the many who took pleasure in letting his cousin Kara know how unwelcome she was everytime she said something awkward. To his horror, Time watched Grace sit down next to Mitchell. He watched as she shyly gave Mitchell the shelf he had built with her. Mitchell gave her a hug as his mom pulled up to the curb. Mitchell got into his mom’s expensive SUV. Grace sat there blushing with the biggest smile he’d ever seen on her face. Tim looked away and immediately tried convincing himself that he wasn’t that into her. After everyone left he didn’t go to sit on the bench.
Tim’s older brother Mark pulled up to the front of the school. Tim had been waiting for Mark to pick him up for about 45 minutes now. Tim was annoyed, but not surprised. Mark was consistently late picking him up; mom had even given up berating him for it. Tim sunk into the piece of junk that was Mark’s car, and was deeply submerged in the strong scent of weed. He was actually relieved to smell it. Mark was kinder when he was high, and after everything with Grace – he did not want to deal with Mark’s temper. Mark pulled away from the curb.
MARK GRADUATED FROM HIGH school last year, but was still living at home with no plans for the future. Mark was smart – he had been accepted to multiple colleges, and was awarded a few scholarships. However, suddenly his senior year he just started going down-hill; and fast. He began hanging out with the wrong people, and was turning out more like their dad every passing day.
Tim was angry. So angry he felt he would burst. Tim had been holding his tongue for months, and it was getting to the point where he didn’t care anymore. Tim, being once again possessed to speak unreservedly, spoke whatever he felt would hurt Mark the most, “You suck Mark. You’re ruining everyone’s lives! You know that, right!? You’re worse than dad!” Tim stared at Mark directly in the eyes. Mark continued to stare forward at the road. Tim watched his older brother’s already bloodshot eyes rim with tears. “Yeah, I know,” Mark said with a resolve and calmness that shocked Tim. Tim was prepared to be thrown from the car after saying something like that. But instead Mark simply wiped his eyes on his sleeve.
They sat in silence for quite some time. Tim thought deeply about what he said, and wondered what Mark was going to do about it. Mark drove further out of town as they neared their home closer to the mountains. Mark drove past the turn to their house. “What are you doing Mark?!”, Tim said angrily. Mark reached into the cavity of the driver seat door, and tossed his CD case towards Tim. “Pick one,” Mark said through a smile as he looked briefly at Tim. There was a compassion and a kindness in Mark’s face that Tim had only seen a few times. Even though Tim was angry, he was also stoked — he never got to pick what music they listened to. Mark was driving up the canyon; something dad used to do with them when he came home from work. Tim picked out AC/DC’s “Back in Black” album, and tried really hard to not let his happiness show.
“Good choice, man. How was your day?” Mark said softly as “Hells Bells'' tolled on his loud speakers. Tim was taken back, but had been dying to connect with his brother like this for a long time. Tim told him all about his day, and eventually talked about Grace. Tim felt like he had his brother back. Mark loved it too; hearing about his brother’s thoughts and hopes made him smile. “Her loss, man,” Mark said reassuringly. Tim smiled and fought back a rush of emotion that pushed tears to the brim of his eyelids.
They had been in the car now for around an hour and the sun was beginning to set. Tim was worried about their mom; she was probably worried about them. When he looked at his phone he saw multiple missed-call notifications from “Dianne (mom)” pop up on his phone. Tim sent off a quick text explaining that they went up the canyon together, then zipped the phone in his backpack between his legs.
Eventually, around the time “Have A Drink on Me” began to play. Mark noticed that Tim wasn’t wearing his seat belt. He mumbled for Tim to put it on. Tim didn’t hear him at first. “Put your seatbelt on,” Mark repeated clearer, but still with a prominent slur. Mark seemed different, like he had just seen something in the road pass by them. Tim looked around after he put on his seatbelt wondering what Mark had seen. He noticed Mark wasn’t wearing one. “Hypocrite,” Tim said quietly.
SUDDENLY THE CAR SHIFTED off the highway and into the trees whizzing past them at frightening speed. The car crashed through several small trees shattering the windshield, and a half-second later collided sharply with a large boulder.
Tim woke. It was dark now, but he could tell that the dash had been smashed up against him. He felt a slight breeze indicate that his shirt was soaking wet. The airbag was soaked to his shirt. He assumed it was blood that clung his shirt to the airbag and his chest. He moved to pull the airbag off — but felt an unrelenting tug on his whole right arm. He looked down and saw that his hand was pinned between the car door and a large piece of metal. He gasped, struggled for breath and heard screaming. He turned his head frantically to see where the screaming was coming from. As he stared at his brother’s mangled body in the driver's seat, Tim realized that the scream was coming from himself.
He could see that Mark was still breathing, he fought to free his hand – when suddenly the large piece of metal shifted and crunched up against his hand even more. He felt the bones in his hand snap. The added pain pushed Tim that much further into shock. Suddenly light burst from Mark’s phone; it was on the seat, and though the screen was severely cracked he could see it was their mom calling. Tim lazily cried out for help and reached for Mark’s phone. Suddenly his whole body felt numb, the light of the phone faded, and he quickly became unconscious again.
TIM WOKE TO THE sound and lights of sirens. He was being loaded into an ambulance. When he asked about his brother, the EMT’s avoided speaking to him. When his mom got to the hospital it was explained to him that Mark’s body was nowhere to be found. Tim, in shock, explained frantically that after the accident he saw Mark sitting next to him still breathing. “Mark is injured bad – it would’ve been impossible for him to have left the car on his own.” Tim explained desperately as emotion flooded his speech. A cast was being placed on his hand when his mother became inconsolable.
Eventually, after months of searching for Mark, they held a funeral. Burying an empty casket felt deeply wrong, and shameful. He felt stupid, and like they had given up on Mark. As the casket was being lowered into the ground all Tim could do was imagine what Mark’s body must look like now. How unceremoniously it must be rotting somewhere. Tim’s home had now become a much darker place; winter had now settled in, and the world was colder than ever.
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