Stay Home

Yeah. . . when you awaken you know for sure that you really should not try and push it. Your head is killing you and your feet are far from stable. Your mother requires little convincing and you can see Juliet’s guilt sprawling across her face. So instead of the usual resistance and reaffirmations which must precede any a sick-day, you find a disturbing amount of familial support. You deduce you must appear worst than you feel which is a truly upsetting thought. They both help prepare you for a day in bed and quiet rest. As you begin to doze, you hear your mother and sister entering something along the lines of a subdued argument or a passionate debate. You hear something about summer and leaving, but that made no sense, since it was late fall. You did not have the strength to ask before you passed into the land of dreams.

Your dreams were filled with a strange sense of longing or perhaps it was more like searching. There were many variations on this theme, but the one which stuck out in your mind most vividly was of your father. He appeared to you and led you into a great and beautiful garden he told many things but of them only two could you remember; “Project Eden” and “Genesis.” Weird dreams, no?

You sleep off most of the day. Somewhere along the line you warmed up a can of soup for a very strange brunch. You catch the last half of Pulp Fiction and the first half the latest remake of Shaft, but drift off again. When at last you rise you find that it dark out again, and you hear Juliet or mother watching TV in the living room. You head down stairs and find your sister surfing through the channels.

“Hey, Julie,” you groan. You seem to startle her as you turn the corner.

“Oh, hey John!” she squeaks. That wakes you. All that rest and her shriek, you are not get to bed again for a while.

The scent of tomatoes and baked bread hit your nose. “Uh? Is mom home yet? I smell dinner”

“Didn’t you hear mom this morning?” your sister asked. “They are making her go off on some business trip she won‘t be back until Monday or Tuesday.” She must have seen the surprise on your face. “Look she told me to look after you and not to let you out of my sight. She even made me disinvite Rachel from spending the night.”

‘Great,’ you think to yourself, ‘I got to let Maria know what’s up or she’ll never give me another thought.’ “Anyway, there is pizza in the kitchen, when you are done eating we can do whatever you want.” Her voice is thick with guilt.