A World Without You. A. S. Peterson
politics involved, and the soldiers’ sacrifices kept his dad reading for hours. To obtain the soldiers’ eyewitness input, his dad visited the VFW. After many hours of sitting with World War II, Korean, and Vietnam veterans, they shared their stories with him. Although his dad worked at the town’s toy factory, he still found time to repair the veterans’ cars free of charge which was his way of showing his enormous respect for their sacrifice to the country.
His mom, on the other hand, worked on her scrapbooking. All of her photo albums were up-to-date. Scott had three complete photo albums, and currently, his mom was working on Megan’s.
On this particular evening, Scott rested in his bedroom. After trying to read for nearly thirty minutes, he groaned, climbed off his bed, and placed his astrology book on the top shelf of his bookcase alongside his fix-it yourself, car repair, and gardening books. Scott grabbed his racquetball out of his desk drawer. He laid down on his bed, threw the ball against the wall above the closet doors, and thought about his mom’s changing moods.
Her moods could go from demanding to sadness to depression all in one day. Sometimes one look at her only son would bring tears to her eyes. In fifth grade, he asked his mom what he had done to make her cry. To his despair, she burst into tears, hugging him so tightly he couldn’t breathe. Later that evening, his dad came into his bedroom and explained how his mom’s crying had nothing to do with him. Scott nodded as if he believed his dad’s statement, but he didn’t.
Then last year on Megan’s first birthday, he strolled to the kitchen late that night for a drink of water. He stopped halfway. His parents were in the kitchen having a discussion. His mom’s words remain embedded in his memory. “Megan is such a sweetheart. She doesn’t even know how much she has filled the empty space inside my heart. She makes me so happy.” After hearing her comment, Scott returned to his room, no longer thirsty.
Scott threw the ball against the wall harder than usual and reminded himself, at least Megan makes his mom happy.
3
Felicia
Later in the evening at six fifteen, the doorbell rang. Scott opened it to see Felicia Woods, his next-door neighbor, standing outside. He gave a quick nod. “You ready to leave?” he asked as he opened the front door wider.
“Soon,” Felicia replied as she entered the house. She moved past him. “First I want to show your mom my new clothes.”
Scott analyzed her outfit. As always, his neighbor looked fashionable wearing a jean skirt, a yellow sleeveless blouse, and blue sandals. Felicia’s long brown hair was pulled back into a braid while strands of curled hair framed her face. Her brown eyes were radiant with expectation.
Scott followed Felicia to the family room. She had spent extra time on her appearance tonight. He just hoped she wasn’t trying to impress Randy who was spending too much time with her lately.
As they entered the room, Megan spotted Felicia and squealed with childish delight. Felicia scooped her up, gave her a hug, and glanced at Scott’s parents who sat on their worn russet couch. She said, “I’m always amazed how Megan looks like you more and more every day, Mrs. Furman.”
Hearing Felicia’s familiar comment, Michael Furman joked, “At least Megan will be good-looking.”
As her surrogate father teased her, Felicia smiled. “Yes, but you’re good looking too, Mr. Furman. I just don’t know where Scott got his looks from.” She laughed at her own joke and set Megan gently onto the floor. Felicia moved closer to Scott’s mother and stretched out her foot. “What do you think of my new sandals?”
“I like them. Those sandals would go perfectly with my new summer dress. Where did you get them?”
“They were on sale at the Shoe Shack.”
“I’ll have to buy myself a pair.” Caitlyn Furman paused, noticing Felicia’s new clothes and attractive hairstyle. “You look very pretty tonight. You’re going to have a hard time keeping the boys away.”
Felicia scrunched up her face while she stole a look at Scott, her recurring source of irritation. “No, I won’t. Scott always manages to keep them away from me. He likes to act like he’s my dad.”
Scott leaned against the wall. From the corner of his eye, he caught his dad studying him. He replied defensively, “I do not.”
His dad stood, strolled over to Felicia, and placed his hand on her shoulder. “Scott’s not trying to be your dad.” He hesitated, fixing his attention on Scott. “He might get a bit protective, but it’s only because he cares.”
Scott pushed himself off the wall. This was a perfect time to leave. He looked at Felicia. “We better go if we want to get to The Parlor on time.”
A few minutes later, Scott and Felicia stepped outside. Felicia took a deep breath of warm summer air and smiled. “I’m so happy it’s summer. Patty’s having a slumber party this Friday.”
“Yeah?” Scott replied as they walked east toward the business center of town. They passed Felicia’s house, then Mrs. Morris’ house, and finally Mrs. Whitfield’s house. At the corner of the block, they waved at their two elderly neighbors who rested on folding chairs in Mrs. Whitfield’s lawn. A moment later, Scott and Felicia crossed Third Street. Children’s laughter pierced the air. The youngsters at the corner house were running through a sprinkler.
Felicia sighed. “Remember when we used to run through the sprinkler? It was so much fun until Derek moved here. Then your mom had to make you run through them.”
Scott grinned as he watched a young boy dash through the water. During the summer between third and fourth grade, Derek witnessed their summer activity and later mentioned only babies ran through sprinklers. After that, Scott only ran through them when Felicia complained to his mom, and then he conveniently placed the sprinklers in the backyard.
As Scott and Felicia walked past the yard, a powerful breeze blew a mist of water into their faces.
Felicia whined, “My hair’s going to frizz.”
“There’s nothing wrong with windblown hair.”
Felicia rolled her eyes. “You know nothing about us girls. We like to look nice when we go out for the evening, even if you don’t.” Scanning his attire, she said, “You could have at least worn your school clothes instead of your old gray T-shirt and your black jeans with little holes in them.”
Scott frowned. Compared to the outfit that he had worn this morning, these clothes were a big improvement. “They’re clean, and the holes are from battery acid.”
“Well, don’t be surprised when a girl doesn’t jump at the chance to go for a walk with you tonight.”
As they jaywalked across Oak Avenue, Scott thought about the girl in the park. No girl in this town could compare to her. He replied, “I’m not going to The Parlor to walk a girl home. I’m already walking with a girl.”
Felicia gave an exasperated sigh. “You know, sometimes the best thing to do is to ignore your sarcasm.”
Scott grinned as they cut through Second Street Park where he had played basketball this morning with Derek. Thinking about the difference between the parks in South Hillside and the park in North Hillside, Scott said, “I’m going to cut the grass growing through the cracks in the basketball court and along the restroom walls. I might plant some flowers too.”
Felicia nodded thoughtfully. “Why am I not surprised? You’re always doing some kind of yard work.”
When they hiked through the adjacent vacant lot, Felicia frowned. “Maybe you could replant and water the grass in this area. My shoes always get so dusty every time we pass through it.”
Scott’s eyes widened, wondering why he hadn’t thought of that idea. “Yeah, I could make it look like one large park.”
Felicia smiled. “You look like a little boy eager to