Now…
Cody told his dad he had a headache and needed to lie down. It was partially true. He did have a headache, but he didn’t want to lie down. At least not in Mom-mom and Pop-pop’s spare bedroom.
“Try to get some sleep,” his dad said as he closed the door behind him. “Guests will be here in a little over an hour.”
Cody’s feet hit the floor before his dad’s shadow disappeared from under the doorway. In two quiet strides, he was at the window. He unlocked the latch and lifted it slowly to avoid making any noise. He pulled himself up on the sill and slipped out.
Mom-mom and Pop-pop’s house backed up against a sloping backyard. It made for great sledding in the Illinois winters.
At the bottom of the hill, Cody crossed into the unkempt bushes that bordered the property. Stickers clung to the bottom of his jeans as he stomped over the more pointy thickets. Luckily, his destination was only a dozen feet inside.
Cody stood at the base of a large wooden A-framed structure. Its base was elevated two feet off the ground, lifted by tree stumps at each corner. A wooden beam bisected near the top of the frame. Burned across the front read ‘Becky’s Castle.’
It wasn’t a castle. Not even a shack or shed. If Cody’s Pop-pop ever finished building it, it would have more closely resembled a treehouse minus the tree.
He climbed the ramp into Becky’s Castle and used two pieces of loose wood to hoist himself to the top canopy, where he finally rested.
Cody found the ‘castle’ for the first time over the summer. The wood was weathered and dark and moss spotted the inside. A nest of some kind abandoned long ago sat next to him.
His dad didn’t like him playing in there. It was dangerous, he said. But Cody loved it. It made him feel like a frontiersman or a wild animal. And with his mom’s name carved across the top, it felt like his birthright.
He didn’t have any memories of his mom. She died when he was three. But inside her castle, he felt like she was there with him. Like they were making new memories. He often closed his eyes and tried to imagine her voice.
On that cold autumn day, her sweet voice said one thing to him: “You don’t have to go inside if you don’t want to. It’s your birthday.” Her soft words were so comforting he forgot about the throbbing pain in his forehead.
He woke to the sound of a car door slamming at the top of the hill. Footsteps moved from the driveway and into the house.
“Cody, pal, everyone’s here.” His dad came trudging down the hill, the dead leaves crunching under his dusty work boots.
Busted, Cody thought. How much trouble would he be in for sneaking out of the window?
His dad stopped at the edge of the bush and stuck his hands in his work jacket. “Come on, son. Nana and Jen and your friends are all here.”
Cody was surprised. His dad wasn't mad. Was this a birthday perk?
“I don’t want to,” he said, pushing his luck.
His dad sighed. “Too bad. They’re here for you.” He pulled his hands out of his pockets and clapped his hands. “Chop, chop.”
Cody didn’t argue. How could he? But he didn’t move either.
“What’s up, buddy?”
“My head hurts,” Cody said. And it did. But that wasn’t the problem. He wished he knew what it was.
“I’m sure Mom-mom will give you some medicine. Come on, dude. It’s your birthday. The big 1-0. Double digits. You’re officially a big kid now. You can drive a car and move into your own place.”
He did that thing where he jerked his head to the side and opened his eyes wide, waiting for Cody to smile.
It worked. Cody smiled but didn’t want his dad to see. He laid back on the canopy and looked up at the rotting wood.
The sound of boots stomping over brush stopped below him.
“What’s up, pal? You’ve been acting weird all week. Don’t you want to celebrate your birthday?”
Cody said nothing. A tear welled in his eye and trickled down his cheek into his ear.
“Cody?” his dad persisted. “C’mon, buddy. We’re supposed to tell each other stuff. Remember? Whatever it is, we can handle it together.”
Cody’s chest trembled. An indescribably awful feeling fluttered inside. “I don’t know,” he whispered. Both eyes welled with tears. He had never felt this sad before.
“Tell you what,” his dad said softly. “Why don’t we go up there, thank everyone for coming, and me and you get out of here and go home?”
His words brought relief, if only for a moment. Cody felt the muscles around his lungs relax. He tried to say ‘okay,’ but all he could muster was a head nod.
“If you jump down, I’ll catch you.”
Cody lied for a moment before finally pulling himself up. He looked down to see his dad at the base of the ramp with a reassuring smile and his arms outstretched. He reached out, grabbed the edge of the roof, and scooched his butt out of the front. He brought his feet to the edge of the canopy, ready to jump backward into his dad’s arms.
“I’ll count to three, okay?” his dad called.
Cody squeezed his eyes shut and nodded.
“1,”
A feeling flickered in his chest. Fear? No, he had jumped from the canopy a million times.
“2,”
Anxiety? Terror? The feeling spread across his chest, down his arms and legs. It felt like lightning in his veins.
“3,”
The pain reached up his neck and filled his head with fire. His fingers trembled, and he started to lose his grip.
“Jump!”
Suddenly, every muscle in his body contracted violently, and his arms and legs coiled inward. His head arched back toward the sky. The tree branches over his head faded to white. Everything went white.
His body fell limp and he dropped from his mom’s castle.
His dad caught him with both arms and pulled him close.
“Cody! Cody! Are you okay?”
The boy looked up at the man holding him. He whispered faintly.
The man shook his head. “What? Speak up, son. I can’t hear you.”
Faintly, the boy repeated. “40.0536, -75.0628.”
To Be Continued . . .
Check out episode three: The Comeback.
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