Short Stories

Never Coming Home

Mama always walks me to school in the morning. In the rain, the snow, or the sunshine, she will hold my hand as we walk down the street. Her other hand holds the leash. And on the other end of the leash is Oliver, my dog.

Oliver is way shorter than Mama and only a little shorter than me. He has lots of fur that is the same color yellow as my hair. Mama sometimes calls me Oliver by accident, but that's okay. We both like to play in the mud and we both like when Mama talks to us.

Every morning, Mama tells me to watch the clock and tell her when it says 900. When it changes from 859 to 900, I always shout at the top of my lungs that it is 900 and we need to go. Mama takes my hand and Oliver's leash and we leave. Of course, I sometimes forget my backpack but Mama helps me remember to bring it.

This morning the sun is already out, but there are some clouds in the sky. I tell Mama that one of the clouds looks like a dinosaur and she says yes. She then shows me one that looks like a sheep. I do not think it looks much like a sheep, but I say yes to make Mama happy.

We pass Mr. Jackson's house who lives next door. Sometimes Mr. Jackson lets me eat an apple off his tree. They taste kind of yucky, but he lets me bring Oliver into his yard so I eat them anyways. This morning, Mr. Jackson is on his driveway grabbing the paper. Mama used to read the paper, but she doesn't anymore. She said it is too depressing, but I don't know what that word means.

We don't know the neighbors in the next few houses, so I just watch Oliver as we walk. His mouth is open and his tongue is sticking out. I stick my tongue out too and Mama laughs at how funny I look. I tell her that she looks funny too.

Then I see the Logan house. Betsy, Bernard, and Bronwyn Logan all run out of their front door to pet Oliver. He sits when they walk up and I watch as they touch his fur. I used to play with the Logans on the weekends, but now I don't. Now I play with Mama and Oliver.

Once the Logans are done petting Oliver, we keep walking. I see my school down the street and smile. The rest of my class is running on the playground, waiting for school to start.

But we have to cross the street before I can go to school. Mama makes me look both ways before we cross the street. She says it is a good habit, but I don't know what a habit is or what makes one good. Mama and Oliver stop on the other side of the street. When Mama lets go of my hand, I stop and walk over to Oliver. He wags his tail and I pat his head. I ask him if he is a good boy and he wags his tail again.

Mama tells me to have a good day and I tell her to take care of Oliver. She crosses the street again and waves at me. I wave back before running to the playground to see my school friends. I see Freddie and Jacob on the monkey bars and I run over to play with them.

I am the best at the monkey bars.

***

When Mama walks up to the school, I realize something is wrong. She normally smiles when I see her again and neither of her hands are occupied. The hand that normally holds the leash is empty. Oliver is not there.

I ask Mama where Oliver is. She says he took a vacation. I ask where he went. She says he went on a trip to see God. I ask Mama why Oliver wants to see God. She says God wanted to see Oliver. I tell her that that doesn't make much sense.

When we walk home and pass the Logans house, Betsy, Bernard, and Bronwyn run outside again but they stop when they do not see Oliver. When we pass Mr. Jackson's house, he does not wave from the front porch like he normally does.

Mama lets go of my hand before we reach the house. I start to cry. Oliver is gone and Mama is not holding my hand. This is not good.

When Mama comes to tell me everything is okay, I ask her when Oliver will come back from his vacation. She says he is never coming home. This makes me sad.

I cry and cry because my bestest friend in the world is gone and he is never coming home. I do like Mama, but she is not my bestest friend. I wonder for a minute if I will ever have a friend like Oliver again. One who likes to play in the mud, one who likes when Mama talks to him, one that wags his tail when I ask him if he is a good boy. Even apple juice does not make me stop crying.

I finally pick what I will do. I will go look for Oliver to see if he is really not coming back. I leave through the front door while Mama is in the bathroom. I run over to the only other person who might know why Oliver left, Mr. Jackson. He must know what happened to Oliver, since he is an adult and adults know everything.

When I run up to the front porch to find Mr. Jackson, he breathes out really loud. I ask him if he knows where Oliver went and he says that Oliver is gone. I ask him where he is gone. He says that Oliver is dead and that I should go home. I ask him one last time and he says that Oliver is not alive anymore and that I should go talk to Mama.

I cry again. This time because I do not know why Oliver is dead or when he will stop being dead and come home. But then I remember what Mama said, that he is never coming home. I cry some more. My bestest friend left and is never coming home.