The Catcher's Dreams (FEATURED)

CHAPTER FORTY - life

"Zhi-Rae! Zhi-Rae!" they called out. The broken English versions of his name found his ears and blew in them. And then, "Wake up!" in their Sichuan dialects. Drake blinked the hair out of his eyes and hopped up, expecting to see a pristine glass of juice on his nightstand. There was nothing there, only his journal. He took it and flipped it open. The pages were all still there, gleaming silently at him. He flipped to the back, watching the golden button. It gleamed with the scales of a dead fish, the lines unmoving. His head was free of voices and colors.

He opened his nightstand drawer and tossed the journal inside. It fell with another thud like a squirrel. Drake closed the drawer with a final thunk.

He hopped down the stairs. "Oh!" Two streaks of fur bounced around his legs, meowing loudly. He squinted at them. For once, he could see the definite strands of their fur. The space around them was clear, but not empty. He laughed out loud, starting to hop down two steps at a time, clutching the supporting hand of the railing.

From the bottom of the stairs, Cassandra looked up, before waving at the two cats. "Here!" Short, brownish tufts of hair framed her face, but she was still wearing her white dress. There was something flickering around her – the inklings of another baby glow – and then, as he blinked, it disappeared. She waved at Drake. "Morning!"

"Morning, Cassie." Drake laughed, jumped off the last step of the stairs, and flung himself into a hug. No glow poked at his senses. Cassandra tipped to the side awkwardly, before giving him three irregular pats on the back. Drake's grin leaped as Cassandra gave him a gentle shuffle. "Come on, time to get ready for school." He twirled away dizzily, nearly pushing himself into Tall Bun. He looked her up and down. Instead of the generic shirts and pants the Ayis usually wore, she was sporting a flowery top and greenish pants. She looked over quizzically and gave his hair a ruffle.
The house was so spacious now without those incessant colors.

"If you aren't going to cut that thing, at least brush it up a bit, will you?"

"Fine," Drake said. "If I can find the brush."

Tall Bun gave him a smile and walked on. "Breakfast's on the table."

Drake skipped past, peering at the piano. The emblem there was as meaningless as the one on the journal. Wait. Why was it of importance anyway? As he thought, the thoughts ran away. He shrugged and entered the dining room, where he snatched the glass by its neck and chugged the contents down. "Careful!" He looked over, seeing Crooked Mouth. She had her hair down and a sweater clung to her neck. "I make it in half an hour, you drink it in ten seconds."

Drake sighed and slowed his pace, before placing the glass down with a thud that made Crooked Mouth cringe. "Do you have my uniform?" Drake asked.

"It's in your closet, Drake, as always."

He had to get it himself? He sighed and bounded up the stairs. As he walked down the corridor, he saw Freckles and Cassandra.

"What did you do to your hair?" Freckles asked.

"It was...it was filthy, Mom!" Cassandra protested.

Mom? Drake blinked, before surveying the two. Cassandra did have the same lean, angular body as the woman he thought was an Ayi. He couldn't help but ration himself another smile.

"But...short hair, Cassie! You look like a boy!"

Cassandra huffed. "It's...short hair's trending nowadays."

"Not hair that short!"

"Good morning," Drake said. "...Auntie."

Both the girl and her mother turned around as Drake ran forward to give the mother a hug. "I've...I've missed you so much."

She smelled like white roses.

His aunt hugged him back. "Love you too, Drake. Come on – you should get yourself changed."

Drake slipped into his room, opening the closet door. Sure enough, all his school clothes were there. He brushed his teeth, changed, and even gave his hair an obliging nuzzle with the comb at the bottom of his bathroom drawer. He got his backpack and went back downstairs. Chauffeur was waiting at the door.

"Hey, buddy," he said, checking his watch.

"Hey," Drake said. They entered the car, and, as it started humming with life, Drake had a fright before realizing Chauffeur had only turned on the radio at a blistering volume.

"How's school going?" Chauffeur asked.

"To be honest, it wasn't going well," Drake said. "But I feel like today might be better." Chauffeur nodded, starting to hum along to the music. Drake thought he could feel the car pulsing to the beat as they drove.

When they reached school, Zachary was entering the doors. For some reason, as Drake walked towards him, he flashed Drake a shy smile and opened the doors for them both. Drake squinted at him. Something was off. There was a missing puzzle piece in his mind, apparently, because he felt like he should be happy about something to do with Zachary's appearance. Maybe it was just his sudden kindness.

(Later, at recess, Zachary would be watching Cody and Drake sling their rubber bands across the field out of the corner of his eye while he pretended to be playing football, part of him wanting to join. Maybe he would ask. Maybe not just yet.)

As for Cody – he brought small cutout circles of paper today to prop on the field and act as targets for their great rubber band slinging Olympics. Tommy, Drake's old friend, wasn't seen at all; rumor said he was sick.

As Drake and Cody settled down to their disgusting soy-sauced rice, Cody cleared his throat awkwardly.

Drake looked up. "Yes?"

"Hey," Cody said. "Summer's coming soon. Are you going anywhere? Are your parents taking you?"

Drake paused. Parents. Wasn't he an orphan? He tried to conjure up the faces of his Mom or Dad, but there weren't any at all. He blinked. "Nah. I'm staying here. I feel like things will be different."

Outside, there were bells and a call of "Year Five lunch time! Year Five lunch time!" The door creaked open, letting in a beam of sunlight and a pack of jostling children. Drake started spooning up his peach yoghurt. For once, the bittersweet flavor didn't remind him of...what was it supposed to remind him of?

There were pieces missing, he thought as he looked at Cody. Huge curls of hair, burning amber eyes, but something missing. He turned back to his rice. Was there something missing?

Of course there was something missing. More soy sauce. He poured some in and stirred it with his fork, before giving it a taste. That was what it was.