The new dawn was a strange word for a new day, as the boy slowly
awakened from a restless sleep, with images and fragments dissipating
when he slowly awakened. When he stretched, he felt stiff and sore.
Sitting up, he wiped and noticed the straw stuck to his back. Held on
by the dried blood against his skin, where the old dog chains dug in and
pinched him. The chain link edges were sharp as they twisted and turned against him when he moved the night before, leaving marks and cuts.
It gave him chills thinking about it and a new resolve with an unknown reason to escape another house of horrors and a father's whip. EJ is the name he liked going by mainly because it was the name his grandmother had given to him. It angered his parents every time he or she used it, his mother Linda most of all. Yet, it meant Eric James two
names he hated more than anything because the name Eric came from
a doll's name his mother played with growing up as a constant reminder
that he was her plaything to do with as she pleased. The middle name
James came from his father. Not to honor him, no, but to remind him
he belonged to him like a piece of property, which they reminded him of
more often than not, even though his father mostly never called him that.
In fact, he always usually calls him boy or some degrading name or a
curse word. He was fond of swearing and did so often, regardless of who he was talking to or the company he was keeping. It angered him when people used his name in his presence, and he paid the price. For it was either by beating him with his fist or whipping him with his deadly belt.
He even did so in front of them, sometimes not caring or daring them to turn him in. Telling them it was their word against his, and he had been doing it since the day he was born, and nobody had yet to stop him.
EJ looked outside through the cracks in the wall to see where he
was, said. "It looks like I am on some old, abandoned farm, a good mile from the house. Good, hope they're not looking for me because I am
not looking for them, that's for dang sure. I am only glad I chose to leave
in the summer this time, or I would have frozen to death last night,"
EJ said as he laughed at himself. "That would make them only happier.
Considering they thought this would keep me from running off since
they locked all my clothes away except my faded boxer shorts," as he
remembered the home he left, not so much as a feeling of regret.
There was a shining glimmer that caught the boy's eye. Over there
in the corner, under a tarp, an old, cracked mirror. Finding it like a
prize for a king for him. He just needed to uncover it. "One, two, three
aaachuu and aaachuu," he sneezed as he rubbed his nose because of the dust. Then tossed the old tarp covered with dust in the corner. "Now, let's see if I can lean this against that wall and have a gander."
He unwrapped the horse blanket around his waist, and the boy
stepped in front of the mirror. "Well, at least I still had my boxers on; I
only hope nobody saw me last night; I might have given them the wrong
impression that I was streaking through town. Need to find some clothes, can't go anywhere just like this, people might notice, a twelve-year-old boy with blue eyes and brown hair only wearing striped, torn boxers, barefoot and no shirt and little beat up," He looked pretty skinny, some would say it aged him, or he was on a hunger strike. Plus, he was small and had not had his growth spurt yet, even if he would, considering he came from a line of short people.
He looked down at the left and right side of his rib cage, and he noticed
two huge bruises. "Looks like I will be leaving with a matching set. Thanks to a parting gift from good old Dad and a couple on my legs where the belt struck across. Ouch, still stings a bit." He said, taking a closer look at his face in the mirror. He noticed that most of the swelling had gone down from his left eye, a few little cuts and bruises on his feet, and a fat lip. "All in all, I say chaps. I've been in a prizefight, that's what they would say in an old English pub. Well, times a wasting need to find some clothes
and see about springing my brother from the grips of hell and the noose."
The old barn had many things that would interest a twelve-year-old boy. Odd gadgets and gizmos of yesteryears gone by, but none
he had a use for, but out of the corner of his eye. He thought he saw a shape, a human shape. Fear crept over him and held him tight; he
dared not speak. His ears listened for every sound, every tiny hair
a quiver, and his mouth felt dry, unable to swallow. He tried not to
make any sound at all. His mind raced, his heart beating fast; he crept
forward, placed one foot in front, then the next. Stops. His heart
beats faster, eyes strained for the tiniest movement. EJ crept forward again and put another step closer. Beads of sweat began to form on his forehead and the palms of his hands. It was just a few more steps as he crept forward again, taking another step, and thinking. "If I can just make it back to that wall, I can peek over it and see them or who they are, and they won't see me."
EJ winced a little from the pain still fresh; the boy's anger popped
into his mind, which in turn overrides his fear, "I know one thing. I am
not going back, not without my brother," he said firmly in his mind. EJ
crept forward, sprang for the wall, and huddled into the corner where
the darkness was like a mother's protective blanket. His ears listened to
every sound; his eyes were open for any movements beyond this wall;
he wondered what dangers lay on the other side of this wall. Pressing
his body flat against the wall, he winced now and again because of the
pain; slowly and carefully, he slid towards the figure that was sitting in
the shadows, which seemed to be waiting for him.
The boy's heartbeat grew faster every second as if it would jump out of his tiny chest. EJ got closer, and he could see an old farmer sitting on an old haystack. "I thought I was alone out here. What's he doing sitting in a corner, sleeping drunk? The misses must have put him out here tonight. Just great how I will get out now with him by the door looking like this in broad daylight? I can see it now, walking in only my boxers down the street. "Hi, ya, folks, how ya doing," and not to mention the cops, they'll have a hay day." He replied softly to himself, thinking of the reply they would most likely make.
"Hey boy, did you know you are not wearing any pants? And by the
way, what about those bruises." Then they'll grab ya and take you back
home so they can beat you some more. No, thank you, well, I have had
enough. Maybe I can wait till he leaves; he's bound to wake up sooner or later after all the misses will be calling him home," he said under his breath. EJ returned to the corner where he had a good view of the farmer and felt reasonably safe. He brought his knees up to his chest to keep him warm, and huddled in the corner, he drifted off to sleep. When the boy awakened, the sun was setting in the later part of the evening, not yet dark. Irritated that he had allowed himself to fall asleep in the first place, he glanced over to see if that old farmer was still there, shocked and dismayed.
"I can't believe it. That old farmer is still there, will he ever leave? What's keeping him here?" He said softly in a heated whisper. Anger was building up inside due to feeling trapped like an animal. Thinking he needed to leave. "Maybe I can distract him long enough to escape, then run; if he is drunk, he won't be able to catch me. If I wait long enough, it will be dark soon, and I can hide in the shadows where nobody can see me."
EJ finds some small pebbles along the wooden planks at the bottom of the old barn; the small boy puts them in a pile near him. The boy EJ I hoped the farmer would just leave, and he could just make a break for it, but as time went on, the day slowly turned into night. With one last sigh, it was time to strike. The first pebble missed its mark and hit the ground below the old farmer's feet. EJ's heart leaped out of his chest as he sprang for the corner and waited for certain doom.
He waited, not even a sound, no shuffling of feet. No voices, nothing,
not even a grunt or a stir. His heart raced, and his eyes squeezed tightly
shut. EJ gathered enough courage to peek. Finally, the boy glanced
underneath his eyelids to see if there was any movement at all. Nothing
had changed; the farmer was still there, fast asleep on his perch. EJ was irritated and mad. "Stupid old farmer," he said softly, irritated.
EJ realized he needed to get closer. With a hard swallow, he slowly bent
down, gathered his pebbles, and slowly crawled toward the old farmer along the wall. His eyes never left the farmer as he slowly laid the pebbles next to him, not daring to blink an eye or barely breathe. One by one, he gradually adjusts the pebbles according to their size. The boy examined the next pebble in his hand and looked up at the old sleeping farmer now nearby.
He aimed the pebble, then tossed it; "Kerr plunk," missed again.
This time, right above his head. EJ ducked quickly behind the wall as he
waited to be caught this time. The boy peeked through the small cracks
in the wall. He could still see that the old farmer had not moved even an inch. Relieved, yet at the same time, he felt angry and frustrated, thinking either that farmer was deaf or so drunk he didn't know he was even there.
The small boy kicked the dirt with his big toe. EJ decided what to do next. "Either he's leaving, or I am, either way, one of us is leaving, that's for sure," he said softly to himself.
Nighttime had now fallen again, leaving him clothed in darkness and
the moon giving off her guiding light. He thinks to himself. "Stupid old
farmer, why won't he leave for home? Do you not have any food waiting
there or a bed to sleep in?" He said underneath his breath. EJ sees the
horse blanket nearby; slowly, he reaches for it with one eye on the farmer.
Carefully, EJ slid along the wall so as not to draw any attention, then
quickly crawled back into the darkest to the deepest part of the shadows; the boy thinking this gave him an idea, and he smiled then rubbed his bottom lip, "Ouch, that still hurts a little."
EJ placed the old horse blanket around his shoulders and looked
at the sleeping farmer. "Maybe I'll play a little hide and seek," he said,
smiling, and then grinned, "Ouch, that smarts," touching the side of his
lips. "This time, I am going to sneak up and see how drunk he really is …
or enough to sneak past him right under his nose," he said very softly.
Again, carefully not to make a sound, EJ began to crawl against
the wall, then kept to the shadows with the horse blanket on his back
as he used it to hide under while crawling on his hands and knees. He
stopped every few inches to listen while lying on his belly. Slithering
slowly through the shadows like a snake, his eyes open and ears poised
for any signs of life on the figure set before him. Quietly and silently, EJ reached the nearby corner where he could almost touch the old farmer. This is the closest he has ever been to him all day, yet he still does not stir or make a sound. The fear nearly filled the boy's mind yet excited him simultaneously; blood pumped through his veins, and his heart beat faster. EJ wanted to turn back, but now, knowing he must go on to survive. He told himself. "I have made it this far, and we are not caught yet; we must go on."
EJ stayed well hidden under the horse blanket; he could see a small pillar of light beaming down from the adjacent windows above the old farmer. The old farmer was wearing one of those old red and blue checker shirts, bib-type overalls with a ten-gallon hat to boot;" I wouldn't be surprised to see if he was wearing cowboy boots," he replied with a soft snicker.
Suddenly, a noise was heard, "BANG" he heard something move
from the outside; the small boy jumped back into the corner, and his
heart raced a mile a minute. EJ made sure that he was covered entirely in darkness. Seeing lights flashing through cracks, his thoughts raced. "Ohno! They have found me; I've been caught!" Quickly hiding under the
horse blanket, not daring to come out, he waited for the lights to fade.
It was just a car backfiring going down the road.
The lights and sounds slowly returned, and the darkness and shadows were where they belonged with him. EJ peeked underneath the horse blanket towards the old farmer, noticing he never moved. "Strange? There's something very odd about him. I wonder what he looks like under that old ten-gallon hat," he said softly.
Finding a twig nearby, the boy carefully lifted the corners, trying
very hard not to disturb the sleeping old farmer. The boy knew one
false move and would surely be caught; his very survival depended on
it. Suddenly, he slips, the twig "snaps" in two, and the hat falls, crashing
to the ground. With a startled scream, EJ fell backward, sprawled upon
his back. Scrambling quickly, backing into the far reaches of the corners
of the barn. His heart was pounding, knees pressed hard against his
chest, quivering with fear as his eyes glazed towards the old scarecrow,
not wearing his hat, dressed as an aging farmer as the boy shivered in the dark. After a few minutes, the boy smiles and falls on his back, laughing at himself for being scared of a stupid old scarecrow.
After feeling so humiliated, EJ went over to the scarecrow. "I hope you had a good laugh today. Now it's my turn." As he gazed down upon it, he poked his fingers at him, making sure it was made of straw, then rubbed his chin and smiled, shaking, and nodding his head with amusement. "Humm, this shirt is a little bit big, but it will do for now; what do you think, old Mr. Scarecrow?" He said as he put it on. "Let's see, I'll try on those overalls too if you don't mind. Ya see, I am not that picky at the moment. How about you? No? Good. By the way, where's your hat?"
The boy said as he looked on the ground to where it fell. "I'll be needen that hat too if you don't mind?" He replied, placing it on his head, "I would take your shoes, but you aren't wearing any. I guess scarecrows don't need them or can't find your size." He replied as he laughed at the old scarecrow and himself.
"Now then, let's see how I look in the mirror. Not bad, not bad at
ta'l." He said, rolling the legs up a little and tucked in the shirt, "I almost look like Huckleberry Finn going to a western. Maybe I'll put some of that peroxide crap in my hair to bleach it out a little and grow my hair long. Nobody would recognize me… What do ya say to that, Mr. Scarecrow? They'll never find me." He said as he rubbed his chin and stood in the mirror. "That reminds me if anybody comes a callen I wasn't here … got it? Time to find some grub; see ya later," he said with a simple wave of the hand.
The moon had resin above the treetops, giving off her wondrous
guiding light. EJ slowly reached the door and ensured the coast was clear before breaking for the nearby trees. Fear and excitement filled him with a watchful eye for any approaching lights. He wondered if he was part rabbit, with his eyes, ears, and nose twitching as the boy listened to every sound and every smell as he weaved in and out between the trees.
Scouring long quickly across the ground, crouched in thickets of
nearby underbrush, there was a cornfield not far from the ditch bank.
Trying not to make any sound that might alert even a dog to bark in his
direction. He broke off three patches of corn and then quickly hurried
back to the nearby underbrush to eat them.
While eating, he never realized how hungry he was and devoured
the corn eagerly, but not being greedy either, yet mostly the fear of being caught drove him not to go back for more. He knew very well the hell his brother must be going through, and if there was a chance, he must try to break him out. Provided he could break him out at all. EJ also knew he had to at least try, or he could never leave without knowing without the guilt that he had at least tried or at very least said goodbye. Cutting a path through the field was the easiest way to get there without being seen. Now, the hard part is choosing which path to take."I could go around the old cemetery or through it. Let's see, the
road is lit near the houses. Which would be a bad idea. Ghosts and old
bones don't seem to say much when they're dead, well, at least sometimes. "Humm, I'll take the ghosts any night; at least they don't try to beat me to death. Maybe I should have brought old Mr. Scarecrow, but right now, he doesn't have a thing to wear to the party." He laughed to himself, making a dive for the cemetery. The boy noticed a car coming up the road, a cop car. "Oh no, it's slowing down; just great, this is all I need." He said with anger in his voice, remembering a time of yesterday.
The cop's searchlight searched the area where he dived into the
cemetery. His body quickly flattened to a tree; he tightly closed his eyes, hoping, and dared not to breathe. The cop's searchlight slowly scanned the tree nearby and around the area before driving off. EJ let out a gasp of air and sighed with relief. "That was close, I thought I was a goner for sure. Now I am glad I did not take the road by the houses, that's for dang sure." He said very softly to himself that only a few ghosts might hear.EJ leaped from one tombstone to another as he crisscrossed in between some more trees. It soon became a game for the small boy. After a while
he was through the cemetery; not a single ghost was seen nor heard at
night. They figured he had or would have enough problems of his own
to be bothered or play with a poor little boy. He was nearly there; just
over the next ridge around the corner was where his house and brother
waited for him.
Getting there would be easy. "The parents most likely won't be
expecting me. Now, getting out again is the real problem. The other
problem is where to go next when I leave. The old barn is too far away
for my little brother. He would never make it on foot, not without his
bike, and we can't take it because they locked it up inside the shed. Hope they least put his breeches on because I don't have a spare with me. Just because he still wets the bed now and again, even though it's his sister's fault for getting him in trouble on purpose, spilling warm water on the bed while he is asleep is not fair. I swear, one day, she'll pay the price. I don't know how, but she will," he said to himself.