Sinking
002.
1995.
Take’s parents were over protective to say the least. I can understand why, though. Take’s older sister got killed when a drunk driver came tearing through their old neighborhood when he was four. He tells me that he still remembers the screeching tires, crunching bones, and child-to-minivan impact. I think it affects him more than he’d admit.
Anyway, Mr. and Mrs. Thomas went into Super Crazy Hyper Active Parent Mode and basically shut their kid out from the world. They moved into our neighborhood a year after the accident and that’s when I met him. Back then, Take was the complete opposite of what you thought he would be at five. You’d expect him to be an ADD kid bouncing off the ceiling and coloring all over the walls. But no, Travis Taken Thomas was a polite young man who said ‘please’ and ‘thank you.’ He sat quietly and did what his parents told him to do.
I came into his life three days after they moved in. In those days the only kid under the age of twelve and above fetus, was me. My parents were who-knows-where, and I marched myself across the street and knocked on the door.
I probably looked like the sweet and innocent type – with my pigtails, overalls, and rainbow shoe laces – but I was far from it. No one knew it then but I was going to turn their Travis into a Take.
“Does that boy live here?” I asked Take’s mother when she answered the door.
“Hello little one,” she smiled, “where do you live?”
“Doesn’t matter. Does that boy live here?” I asked again.
“Yes, Travis does live here. Does your mommy know you’re here?”
“Yes.” I replied, and not with my first lie. “Can Travis come and play with me?”
Mrs. Thomas winced. “Well, I’m not sure right now—“
“Please?” I began to use my big doe eyes and pouty lip. I was done being the only kid in the neighborhood. The only way I got to socialize was at school and even when I was five, school sucked.
The woman finally gave in. “I’ll see if he wants to play.”
Instead of waiting on their porch, I slipped through the door under her arm and began to look for the dark haired boy I saw a few days ago. Mrs. Thomas was obviously not used to a kid like me; who knew what she wanted and would do what she needed to get it. She didn’t know how to stop me from searching in her house and I was more than okay with that.
It didn’t take long for me to find the boy sitting on his bed reading a book. He didn’t look up right away and I didn’t bother him. I took a moment to watch him; he had dark brown hair and extremely dark eyes.
“Hello.” I said softly into the room, as if he was a skittish pigeon about to fly away.
The little boy who would become Take looked up at me. He didn’t say anything at first either; he just looked at me like he had never seen another kid before. His right eyebrow went up and we stared at each other some more.
“There are cookies at my house if you want to come play over there.” I said.
“I don’t like cookies.” He murmured. It was my turn to raise my eyebrow at him.
“Why not?” I asked, and all I got was a shrug. “I’m Hannah.”
“I’m Travis.” He picked at the corners of his book with a short finger nail.
“There aren’t any kids in this neighborhood except you and me. So that makes us best friends.” I told him and climbed on his bed (with Batman bed sheets) next to him. “Okay?”
The dark eyed boy stared at me for a long time. And I think for the first time in a long time he smiled. He smiled at me and I smiled back. “Okay, we’re best friends.”
Take’s parents were over protective to say the least. I can understand why, though. Take’s older sister got killed when a drunk driver came tearing through their old neighborhood when he was four. He tells me that he still remembers the screeching tires, crunching bones, and child-to-minivan impact. I think it affects him more than he’d admit.
Anyway, Mr. and Mrs. Thomas went into Super Crazy Hyper Active Parent Mode and basically shut their kid out from the world. They moved into our neighborhood a year after the accident and that’s when I met him. Back then, Take was the complete opposite of what you thought he would be at five. You’d expect him to be an ADD kid bouncing off the ceiling and coloring all over the walls. But no, Travis Taken Thomas was a polite young man who said ‘please’ and ‘thank you.’ He sat quietly and did what his parents told him to do.
I came into his life three days after they moved in. In those days the only kid under the age of twelve and above fetus, was me. My parents were who-knows-where, and I marched myself across the street and knocked on the door.
I probably looked like the sweet and innocent type – with my pigtails, overalls, and rainbow shoe laces – but I was far from it. No one knew it then but I was going to turn their Travis into a Take.
“Does that boy live here?” I asked Take’s mother when she answered the door.
“Hello little one,” she smiled, “where do you live?”
“Doesn’t matter. Does that boy live here?” I asked again.
“Yes, Travis does live here. Does your mommy know you’re here?”
“Yes.” I replied, and not with my first lie. “Can Travis come and play with me?”
Mrs. Thomas winced. “Well, I’m not sure right now—“
“Please?” I began to use my big doe eyes and pouty lip. I was done being the only kid in the neighborhood. The only way I got to socialize was at school and even when I was five, school sucked.
The woman finally gave in. “I’ll see if he wants to play.”
Instead of waiting on their porch, I slipped through the door under her arm and began to look for the dark haired boy I saw a few days ago. Mrs. Thomas was obviously not used to a kid like me; who knew what she wanted and would do what she needed to get it. She didn’t know how to stop me from searching in her house and I was more than okay with that.
It didn’t take long for me to find the boy sitting on his bed reading a book. He didn’t look up right away and I didn’t bother him. I took a moment to watch him; he had dark brown hair and extremely dark eyes.
“Hello.” I said softly into the room, as if he was a skittish pigeon about to fly away.
The little boy who would become Take looked up at me. He didn’t say anything at first either; he just looked at me like he had never seen another kid before. His right eyebrow went up and we stared at each other some more.
“There are cookies at my house if you want to come play over there.” I said.
“I don’t like cookies.” He murmured. It was my turn to raise my eyebrow at him.
“Why not?” I asked, and all I got was a shrug. “I’m Hannah.”
“I’m Travis.” He picked at the corners of his book with a short finger nail.
“There aren’t any kids in this neighborhood except you and me. So that makes us best friends.” I told him and climbed on his bed (with Batman bed sheets) next to him. “Okay?”
The dark eyed boy stared at me for a long time. And I think for the first time in a long time he smiled. He smiled at me and I smiled back. “Okay, we’re best friends.”