Keeping Tabs

Chapter 1

Chapter 1

The fourth weekend of May I turned eleven, and my parents both lost their jobs. With their final paychecks and fourteen boxes in the back of a beaten up red Chevy truck, we moved from my hometown in central Louisiana to Waco, a rather strange town in central Texas.

Having just made my first real set of friends, I was absolutely certain that this was going to be the worst summer of my life, and there have been a few choice points in my life since meeting Colin and the rest of them where I’ve wondered if maybe I wasn’t right after all.

The house we moved into was old, rotted, and derelict. It was painted a flaky, chipped green and stood on a corner in the low rent section, across from an old cemetery that was protected by a crumbling stone fence. And that was the safest place in my new neighborhood. It was also where I met Micah, who was destined to change my life in ways I would never have imagined.

I was bringing out the last of the empty boxes from our move out to the curb, when I first saw him walking into the entrance of the cemetery. He was an awkward little thing in his high-top sneakers, cargo shorts and striped polo. Everything looked way too large for his slight frame, and the skittering pattern of his walk made him look even smaller. Terrified of the entire world, even.

As I’ve said many times in my life, I was curious. And he was the only other kid I’d seen in the three days since moving here, so I felt this deserved my immediate attention. I crossed the street without a single thought of my mother or the list of chores she was expecting me to finish. I’d get to it later.

There were large pecan trees everywhere, casting shade across the entire graveyard. And there, at the far end of the yard, was the dark haired boy with the high tops. He was sitting alone on the bench with his back turned toward me, his shoulders shaking violently. It was a few yards more before I heard his soft sobs.

A twig snapped under my foot, and I watched nervously as his back went rigid. I wasn’t sure what to say, I wasn’t even sure if I should say anything, so I didn’t. Instead I just shifted my weight to the other foot, waiting for him to inevitably turn around. But he didn’t. After a long moment, he spoke very quietly.

“So, you came to laugh at the fag, too?” He asked, dragging out a ragged breath before continuing, “Why don’t you just kill me then? Get it over with and put me out of both of our miseries.”

I couldn’t help but stand there for a bit, absorbing his words in shock and disbelief. Of all the reactions I was expecting, this certainly wasn’t one of them! Sure, I could tell he had a very effeminate nature by his soft voice and his slight hand gestures as he accused me of coming to taunt him. But that wasn’t what had dragged me into this graveyard after him.

It had been the fear and sadness that rolled off of him in waves. I had felt it from across the street, and I just had to do something! And yet, at that moment I could only defend myself from the quiet anger in his voice.

“No, actually. I didn’t come to laugh at you, or to call you names. And I didn’t come here to kill you, either. I came here to see if you needed help. And to introduce myself. But since you obviously don’t want company…”

“No. No, I’m sorry.” He apologized, turning to face me. He was a cute enough boy, with shaggy, dark brown hair, and deep, chocolate colored eyes that reflected the most exquisite pain. He smiled nervously and said,“I just thought you were with Chris Guillermo. I didn’t mean that… I’m Micah, never Mikey.”

“Tabitha Grenoux. Don’t call me Tabby and we’ll be cool. And, you shouldn’t curse, you know. Nice people don’t curse.” I said, giving him an easy smile. I noticed that he had a busted lip, the remains of a bloodied nose, and the makings of a black eye. He also had various bruises on his arms and legs. None of that stopped him from laughing.

It felt good to watch him visibly relax. Pretty soon he found himself telling me about Chris Guillermo and his friends, all relentless bullies. And then I found myself telling him about my parents and our move. Then he was telling me about his sister Makayla and her dirt bag boyfriend that also pushed him around, and before he knew it, he’d told me about his mother and her drinking problem. I was trying to find words of comfort for this revelation, but I was only eleven, and that was when my mother began to yell for me anyway.

“I gotta go. That’s my mom.” I could only smile awkwardly, now knowing what he was going home to. He stood up with me and gave me a tight hug. He whispered several ‘thank you’s in my ear, then let me go.

“I’ll see you tomorrow. Twelve-ish.” Micah’s smile was a million watts of pure sunshine. I could only nod in response, but curiosity was already burrowing its way through my mind.

It was somewhere between there and my front door that I realized inside and out, Micah Brooks was the most beautiful and confusing human being I would ever meet. I smiled as I thought of my new friend, and I hoped at that moment that we would get to be good enough friends for me to invite him home for dinner, or even if it was just to hang out every day. I'd take whatever he offered.

Who could know how often our deepest wishes come true, whether it be for good or bad. I often wonder if I would have wished to change the following day, had I known what would eventually come of it. I still have yet to figure out the answer to that question.

I just remember that I wanted him to like me as much as I already liked him. There was something in him that struck a very serious chord in me. It made me want to protect him from the evils of the world, to help him fight his every battle, and I couldn’t explain why or even what it was about him that did this to me. It was like finding the brother that I was supposed to have. Like a missing puzzle piece in my life just suddenly clicked. By the time I closed my front door behind me, I had an ear-to-ear smile that I couldn’t hide from either of my parents.

“Uh oh. Looks like someone found a boyfriend.” My mom said.

“Who?”

My father’s face popped out from behind the dining room wall. And the expression on his face was angry enough to make me turn for the bathroom. My mother unfortunately was undeterred and barged in after me.

“What’s going on? Who is he?” She asked, her stern look betrayed by the trace of a knowing smile and a gleam in her blue eyes.

“Yeah, who is he?”My father called angrily through the door. I visualized him puffing up his chest and strutting up and down the hallway like a proverbial watchdog. And to this day, I’d bet anyone a million dollars that he was doing exactly that while my mom was busy scrutinizing me.

“Gary, go watch T.V. or get a cup of coffee or something!” She yelled. In that moment I truly loved and appreciated my mom. She stood there looking me over, laughing inwardly. Her hair was cropped short, but it shone a honey color in the soft bathroom light. Her eyes were a lighter, more faded blue than mine.

“Shirley! I have a right to know!”

My mother only smiled at me and bent to my ear as she whispered, ”We’ll talk later.”

At long last, I was alone again. I dressed for bed, taking as much time as possible to brush my hair. I didn’t want to face my parents and their detailed scrutiny of my strange behavior. So I brushed my teeth and opted to suddenly have a bad stomach ache and go to bed.

It took ten minutes of my mother fussing over me and asking if I was sure I didn’t want dinner for me to make it upstairs into the loft that was now my bedroom. I flung myself into bed, forcing my anxious eyes to shut, hoping I could keep them closed. I couldn’t wait until the next morning.

I was going to go find Micah again, and we’d have the entire day to talk this time! I wondered for a moment what he was planning, and I thought of asking him when I saw him. I began to conjure up the image of his bruised face when he first looked at me. I must have actually been pretty tired, because the world grew dark and quiet for me before I even had time to dismiss the image of Micah’s soft, hurt brown eyes. And though I can’t say for certain, I believe I dreamed of him that night.