Casting a Different Shadow Part One

 

Casting a Different Shadow

Part One

There was something I wanted to tell you about that summer day. Sometimes I can’t remember what it is - sometimes, I’m really not sure I should. Spanker’s gone now and from what I hear, he won’t ever be back. So the secret is perfectly safe with him. Especially if he’s dead. See, even though you were there and even though I shouldn’t have to tell you about it, I’m pretty sure that you don’t remember at all what happened to Joey.

Maybe if I start real slow and pretend that it was a regular summer day it’ll slip out of me and we can talk about it. Well, I woke up that morning and the sky was already that dull, steely-grey looking plate that meant it was going to be hot and sticky again. My skin smelled all sweaty and tired. My sneakers in the corner of the room still reeked of the swamp we walked through last Tuesday. I started thinking about getting a waffle cone ice cream this afternoon if I could scam up some cash. And, of course, I’d have a good excuse to stop by Sanderson’s to get the cone. And, of course, Violet would be there, working her way through summer for her Pops. Violet had brown eyes, even though she said they were violet and that's why she was given that name. I told her so many times that my ma says that there’s no point naming a baby after the colour of her eyes before she’s even 3 months old because babies’ eyes don’t have any colour till they can see. And they can’t see when they’re born. But Violet doesn’t seem to hear me when I say this. She just flings herself over to another part of the counter.

So now, here I am at the breakfast table, which my ma insists on calling the nook. And I’m eating Shreddies with cream and banana slices. Then I have some crispy cinnamon toast. I read the comics. My older sister, Bess, is playing her radio. It’s annoying me because she likes the rankest music around and thinks it actually sounds better when the volume is cranked way high. I could just smack her. Someone should. I’m so pissed off that I yell out, “Bess, you turn that stinkin’ noise off right now!”
“What?”, she screams back.
“Shut off that hellfire noise!”
“What?”
I bounce up the stairs and pull on her door and she’s got the bloody thing locked!
Me: “Open up! Open up! Right now! Open this door!”
Bess: “What do you want?”
Me: “I told you to open this door now!”
Bess: “Why?”
Me: “Because I want to tell you something!”
Bess: “What?”
Me: “Just open the door!”
Bess: “What do you want, you little beast?”
Me: “I want you to shut that damn radio off right now!”
Bess: “Make me.”

So I give up.


Okay, now I’m pedaling my bike over to your house, Benny. The air has a weird smell now, almost like the smell when a plane is taking off. The sky is getting darker and looks a bit sickly green. My tire hits a rock and I go flying over the handlebars and land face first in the lilac bush that Mrs. Konfeer insists is a tropical vine. Now I look like a conquering hero, complete with battle scars and blood.

I throw my bike down on the end of your driveway and careen dramatically over your father’s perfect lawn shouting your name. Suddenly all the hair on my body stands up and starts tingling. There’s a really bright light and a huge crash and the whole world looks like a negative. I fall to my knees and the world starts doing a slow and darkening spin.

Next thing I know, I’m smelling burnt hair. And then I’m opening my eyes. My face is stinging. Then I start to hear people talking but they sound so far away. I decide to get some sleep but someone else decides to put something on my face and I shriek.

Twenty years later, I’m standing on the sidewalk outside the office building in which you preside over an impressive computer something-or-other company. You’re doing well, Benny. Were you afraid that I’d come to you today and want to talk about what happened to us on our summer vacation so many years ago? We’re the last ones who were there; there’s no one left but us. You and me, Benny. Do you remember Joey? Last time I saw Spanker, he said, “Joey who?” I hope that didn’t happen to you, too, Ben.

I was shrieking because it felt that my face was covered in burning acid. It was rubbing alcohol. Your mother thought it would help. Why wasn’t she at work that day? Someone told me that I just missed being struck by lightening. Your mother said that what that meant was that my life had been spared to do important work. Yikes. As if...I mean really, what have I accomplished after all?

Benny, I’m coming to see you. We have to talk.

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 ©Ellen Pepper 2025