The Traveler's Key

Chapter One

Today was my father's funeral.  It was the second worst day of my life, the first being the day he died. A week ago, I was a normal kid with normal problems. My biggest concern  was trying to keep my Algebra grade above a C in order to maintain eligibility for freshman swim team. Now my dad was dead, my mom was barely holding it together and I had to figure out how to accept this was my new reality.   I don't care what anyone tells me about time healing all wounds - I will never be ok with living in a world my dad's not in.

I'm a good kid.  When presented with a choice between something right and wrong, I always chose right. My friends tease me about being uptight but it  doesn't bother me.  As far as I'm concerned,  it's just easier to live with right decisions.   Up until this point, I haven't known what guilt feels like.  I didn't know how lucky I was.  These days, I live with a guilt so large, it sits heavy like a boulder on my chest and makes it hard to breathe. Sometimes, I'm afraid it will crush me. I bet you're wondering what I have to feel guilty about. Well, here it is, I'm the reason my dad's dead.  

There was a knock at my door and before I could answer, my mom pushed her way inside.  My mom was a colorful person, full laughter and a love of life,  but not today. Today her blue eyes were dull, her blond hair, usually worn loose around her shoulders, was pulled back in a severe bun, and her bright clothes had been traded in for black.

I scooted over on my twin bed, careful not to disturb Cheezit, my cat, and Mom plopped down next to me. I leaned against her and idly petted Cheezit who purred beside me.

"How are you doing, Charlie?" she asked, leaning her cheek against my head.

I shrugged and mumbled, "Ok."

"You're a terrible liar," she said.

"I know."

She wound her fingers through my long hair, like she did when I was little and would sit long enough for her to do such things. "You don't have to worry, you know," she told me. "I'm the adult – I'll do the worrying."

She was trying so hard to be strong for me and I loved her for it, but it was an act. Mom was a creature of feelings and emotions.   She took in stray cats and dogs, saved abandoned baby squirrels and injured birds, and cried when they didn't make it. Dad had been the rock of the family.   When I split my head open learning how to skateboard, Mom had fallen to pieces at the sight of all the blood.  Dad had calmed her down, gotten me bandaged up and to the hospital for stitches. I know he'd been scared but he put his emotions aside in order to stay rational and do what needed doing.   I was like my dad -  I controlled l my emotions, they didn't control me.    

I grabbed her hand and squeezed. It surprised me, how small her hands were becoming. They used to dwarf mine, but now they were slightly smaller than my own.  She played with my hair in the quiet stillness of the room.  

I knew she was worried about money, which had been tight even when dad was alive. We'd made it work but now that he was gone, it would be a lot harder.

"I don't want you to worry about money, Mom," I said.  "I downloaded an application for working papers and after I get everything filled out, I can get a job after school.  I know it probably won't pay much, but it will help a little." I envisioned myself bagging groceries at Wegmans.

Mom pushed herself upright and shook her head. "You're a kid, Charlie. Your job is school and swimming. That's it."

The mention of school made me think of the tuition my parents had decided taken on in order to send me to Thayer Academy. "I can go to public school, Mom.  I can swim anywhere."