Postcards From...

July 10th

We’re on the move again. I don’t exactly know were we’re headed, but I’m just trying to enjoy the ride. I have a headache, so it’s kind of hard to with all the bumps. I’m laying on my bed, because I don’t feel like getting up. I don’t feel like talking to dad. But my stomach hurts and I’m hungry.

I do in fact get up, and my head hurts. It sucks when you wake up with a headache. I don’t bother with changing into real clothes when I see how late it is. And besides, it’s not like I’m gonna be seeing anyone special today. Today has been deemed Pajama day by me.

When I walk out into the lounge, everyone looks at me. There aren't enough seats at the table for me, so I crash on the couch. Literally. I lay down, taking up all of the cushions and place one of the small pillows under my head and groan. “Something wrong?” Mikey asked. I nod, and click my fingers because my left hand is numb. He smiles at me, and asks if I want anything. “I don’t know, my stomach hurts.” I grunt.

“Do you want some ginger ale, or juice?” Dad asked. I shrugged, and sat up while he went to the fridge. He pulled out the drink, poured some into a glass and attempted to hand it to me. “Why are your hands so shaky?” He asked, kneeling down on a knee. “I don’t know, they just are.” I said. He smiled, kissed my hand (the one that had feeling) and handed me the drink. “You got it?” He asked. I nodded, smiling. He sat up, and took back his seat at the table.

...

“Can I come in?” Dad asked, peeping around my bedroom door. I nodded slowly, trying not to worsen my headache. He closed the door gently, and sat next to me on the bed. “Feeling any better?” He asked. I shook my head then remembered something. “You know that gas station we stopped at?” He nodded. “Well I saw this shiny thing on the ground and it was like, this big silver coin. it’s cool.” He smiled. “I’ll go get it.”

Bad idea. After I got the coin and handed it to him. I got really lightheaded. “You ok?” Dad asked, handing me back the coin. I fiddled with it, and then nodded slowly. He smiled, that crooked smile that I’ve come to love so much. and pulled me into his lap.

“Well, you don’t have a fever.” He said, placing his hand on my forehead. “You are a little warm though.” He said. I tried to smile. He kissed my cheek, and told me goodnight, then watched me climb under the blanket. “Goodnight.” I said as he opened the door. He smiled and closed it behind him. I turned over, but I wasn't sure that I felt fine with how that ended. I wanted to say something else. Something other then Goodnight. Something that would have provoked a response from him.

...

We’ve finally stopped moving. Only because we hit a red light, but still, a nice break. I’m practically over whatever hit me yesterday. I’ve still got the lightheaded-ness, but that probably because I haven’t eaten anything yet. I look out the window, and I look at all the cars with the people inside, probably going home.

I catch the eye of a kid in the backseat of a blue sedan. He sorta squints his eyes to see through the tinted windows of the tour bus, but I know when he see’s me, because he smiles at me. I smile back, and give a little wave. He waved back, more enthusiastically then me.

The light turned and the smiling boy’s mother stepped on the pedal, speeding right past us.