Peter Pan and the Spiders From Mars

“What are you guys talking about?” I spat through barred teeth. I needed to know. I could feel Nana’s eyes on the side of my face, but I was only glaring at Thomas. He sighed and ran a hand through his hair.

“Um, we need to have a little chat.” Thomas sat on the edge of my bed, grabbing my hand.

“Yeah, obviously.” I turned to Nana who was only looking at Thomas’ gesture. And she did not seem happy. Nana started speaking in Italian again, rendering me useless. Thomas got angrier and angrier.

“Nana!” He started gesturing, shooing her away. Then he got up as she continued rolling out the punches and gripped her arm, coaxing her out of the chair. She begrudgingly obeyed, occasionally pointing at me and then prodding Thomas. The entire trip back to her room, I could hear her voice raising and peaking, insinuating that she was insulting and advising Thomas. The door shut and Thomas walked back, seeming more disheveled than when he first entered.

“Sorry.”

“Um, okay.”

“ Wha-“

“You can put your clothes back on.” I shut my mouth and looked down at the sweatshirt that barely covered my body. I snatched at the thin sheet with one hand, protecting myself with the other.

“You gonna turn around?” Thomas shoved his hands in his pockets, nodded without expression, and slowly turned his back on me. I hastily moved the robe over my chest and shoulders, slipping my arms through the sleeves. I quickly ran fingers through my hair, attempting to brush it, and rubbed my eyes.

“You done?”

“Yeah.” Thomas looked over his shoulder as if to make sure I wasn’t lying. Seemingly satisfied, he pivoted to look at me.

“Why so serious?” I joked at his extremely mature, there’s-no-such-thing-as-happiness, face.

“Ah, Kjell,” He pinched the bridge of his nose which I now realize is his physical form of concentration. “There’s something I have to tell you.”

“Yeah, I know. So fucking tell me!”

“Hey! Calm down, okay.”

“How can I calm down when there’s obviously something wrong with me!” Never before had I been so intense and agitated.

“Just, shh! Shh, shut your mouth.” Thomas pushed a finger to my mouth as he cautiously climbed onto the bed. I rolled towards the dip, leaning into his body. But still.

“My grandmother, Nana, is just a fucking nut.” Thomas pushed back some lose hairs and ran one finger over my eyebrow. I waited for his explanation. “And you,” I held my breath, ready, “need to get some sleep.”

“You fucker! You have to tell me!” I slapped my hands on the bed. Thomas only nodded his head and kissed my cheek.

“Another time.” He slipped off the bed and sauntered to the door. I just watched, amazed at his ignorance. He left through the door, glancing back once, and finally departed. And then Thomas was gone.

For the next two days that I spent in the hospital, I seethed. Not only was I pissed that I had no idea what the fuck was happening to me, but Thomas was acting like a dweeb. And when I say dweeb, I mean dweeb. He walks around with a fucking stick up his ass!

Finally, my leg was healed somewhat so that I could be taken back to Brent and Debbie. The only sad thing, and come to think of it the only thing, was that I would have to walk around with a mummified limb. I tried stomping out of the hospital to release my extreme anger, but Debbie was too cautious about everything. She grasped my arm to support me and kept asking me if my leg was in pain. My forehead was cramping from crunching it together so much and my eyes were on a rollercoaster. Brent was the same as he always was, standing by and watching as I marched all over his unhappy parade. Debbie managed to contort me into the backseat of the car and Brent cinched his way into the driver’s seat.

Looking at my leg just made my stomach clench as if it were wrapped tightly by thin ribbon. My accident made me seem like a delusional asshole, and now there was something especially wrong concerning my birthmark. My stomach grew tighter at the thought of Peter walking off without telling me anything. I mean, it was a rule of life! You don’t start a conversation and then say, “Nevermind!” Who the fuck does that?

“Come on, Kjell. We don’t have all day.” Brent lazily peered through the passenger seat window. I glanced around, my eyebrows stretched down across my eyes, and realized that we were at the house. Debbie was waiting patiently outside, wringing her hands, and Brent was just making me irritated.

“Well then,” I jerked open the door and hoped to hit Brent, “let me just move my handicapped self out of your way.” Brent smirked and walked off, leaving me behind. Debbie observed, debating whether to help me or to follow her husband. It didn’t matter. As soon as I got into the house, Debbie headed to the kitchen to make me a proper meal, something like pancakes and bacon, and Brent hovered, acting somewhat caring, around me to see if I needed anything. Giving him a glare that sent him away, I attempted to climb the stairs.

And let me tell you: climbing up stairs without bending one of your knees is a bitch. I couldn’t even think about the trip down which would be even worse. I managed to lug the hulking leg up the stairs and hobble to my room. The first thing that I noticed when I entered through the closed door was the mauve carpet over my floor that I could have sworn never existed during my stay. But in looking around the rest of the room, my jaw dropping ever so slightly every second, I realized that the reason I didn’t recognize the carpet was because the entire room was being exposed.

My room was utterly clean. And I was utterly pissed.

My bed was made, there were no clothes on the floor and the DVD collection had been arranged in alphabetical order. I stomped all over my room, rediscovering different artifacts in my room. The creepy doll that had purple lips, the jellyfish encased in glass that I had found during one of my tagging adventures, and my missing Backstreet Boys CD from fourth grade. My anger for the invasion of this space slowly depleted into a happy glow. During my stay in the hospital, Debbie had been worried enough to barge through our barriers and clean everything.

The smell of bacon wafted through the vent and I leaped over to my very sad computer. Sizzling sounds reached my ears, making my mouth water, as I furiously typed the one word that had been repeating in my head for the past week. There were several links on the internet, but I, of course, picked Wikipedia. I scrolled furiously through the webpage, only learning different chemical and physical properties of Antimony, a metal. But it all made no sense to me. Why would I have a birthmark in the symbol of a metal that was common in safety matches?!

I typed Antimony Symbol Meaning and more links popped up. I chose the first and scrolled through until I found it. Next to the symbol that looked like a little happy stick man that matched my birthmark, was the description of the symbolic elements of Antimony.

I could feel the color drain from my face and my shoulder slump. The bacon sizzled louder and maple syrup wrapped itself around my face, but I had the decency to be upset.

Antimony is represented by a wolf.