Bring Glory(Us) Life

Chapter 17- Times of Change

        Fall slid slowly toward winter, the air taking on a sharper chill. Frost glittered on the ground when Lachlan rose, gazing blindly out the window. A lot was approaching. Thanksgiving.  Finals. Snow. Death. Everywhere around him things were dying. Flowers lay blackened and brittle on the frozen earth, half buried by lifeless leaves. The birds had gone, leaving the air cold and barren. Nothing moved in the forest anymore; there were no sounds, no songs. Just bleak emptiness.

            Lachlan climbed into the limo, shutting out the crisp air as he slammed the door shut. Inside the black interior it was warm, and a hot coffee sat in the drink bar, steaming. The boy took it automatically, sucking it down. He burned his mouth in the process, but couldn’t feel it. He hadn’t been able to feel much of anything lately.

            The school swung into view, sidewalks crowded with shivering bodies, hurrying toward the heated building. Lachlan sat for a long moment in the warmth, watching the world bustle by. How could they all run like that, flushed and laughing, joking about the cold? The cold inside him never thawed. It never grew warm. Not anymore. Gathering his bag, he stepped out into the air, heading toward the waiting prison.

            “Lachlan, your father and I are going out tonight, watch your sister, please.” Lachlan looked up from doing his homework at the dining room table as his mother walked in, Pauline in hand. His parents had him work there, in the open, so they could monitor his progress, make sure he was doing what he was told. Lachlan glanced down at his textbook and nodded.

            “Yes, Mother.” Pauline squealed as her mother put her in Lachlan’s arms, waving her favorite stuffed animal in the air.

            “I’ll be back soon, precious,” Gigi cooed, kissing little Pia on the face. “Take good care of her,” she continued, giving Lachlan a harsh, meaningful look.

            “Of course. Have a good evening.”

            Unadulterated moonlight shone into Lachlan’s eyes from where he lay on his floor below the open window, drinking in the fresh, cold air. He pulled his blanket more tightly around his body. Pia was asleep. His parents had returned and had gone to bed as well, drunk and happy. Lachlan was alone.

            “You’re alone too,” he whispered, gazing at the moon. “And there’s nothing I can do about it. Nothing can change things.” He closed his eyes, gritting his teeth. “I’m too much of a coward,” he told the blazing, silver sky, teeth grinding painfully. Rolling over onto his face, he tried to shut out the howling in his head, the angry cries, the sobbing.

            Outside, a siren wailed from the distance, growing closer. Unable to sleep, Lachlan stood up, wrapped in his blanket, searching for the vehicle. In the neighborhood behind his house an ambulance screamed to a halt, too far away to make out what was going on. Lachlan held his breath, the wailing echoing in his head. Then, abruptly, it stopped. The lights turned off. There was stillness, then it drove away.

            He was possessed, slamming through his room, down the stairs, out the door, wearing only his cotton pajamas and the blanket, slippers on his feet. He ran down the street, past the parked limo, past the rows of towering mansions, to the edge of the suburbs. A cab trolled by like a bored fish, and Lachlan nabbed it.

            “Are you still running?” he asked, hopping into the back. The cabby glanced back, giving the strange boy an odd look, and nodded.

            “Yeah, where do you want to go?”

            “I’ll show you the way. Do you know where the hospital is? It’s an apartment near there.”