Going back for love

6

The sun’s extreme warmth makes it feel like it’s shining a hundred miles away instead of ninety-three million miles. That’s what Oliver’s little mind keeps thinking as he hobbles on the long quiet road, invaded by a heat wave. His face is burnt red and he keeps wiping beads of sweat from his forehead, trying to form a comfortable feeling with each motion. It didn’t help, as his dry throat was screaming for something cold to soothe every part of his sore body. He kept thinking about his mom’s homemade ice tea that went well with a chicken pie and he tried not to whimper when he thought of her loving embrace and how she would make everything okay. Where she is, he didn’t know how he ended up on a long dirt road, alone, he also didn’t know but for a nine-year-old boy, he tried to stay strong. He just needed to rest for a bit, so he pulled himself into an awkward sitting position, trying to hide the sun from his face. His sore muscles ooze with relaxation and with only a few minutes to spare, a deep slumber takes control of his body.

“Oi.” A deficient voice makes Oliver jerk upright. He violently rubs his eyes, trying to get rid of his hazy vision, to see a boy, about his age, staring at him with stern eyes.

“Who are you?” Oliver croaks, pulling himself up, and stumbling behind.

“Sebastian.” the boy says, sticking out his hand and ruffling his brown curly hair with the other.

Oliver gulps, eyeing Sebastian’s dirty hand, but hesitantly takes it, noticing his hands are dirty as well.

“What’s your name?” Sebastian asks.

“Oliver.” He mumbles, shyly kicking some loose sand from the ground.

Both the boys hear a barking sound and look at a pudgy boy, walking on his hands and knees.

“Cut it out, Porky,” Sebastian calls, irritation lacing his voice.

Oliver looks at Porky, feeling bad, knowing that he, himself, also sometimes pretends to be a dog, but he sure didn’t have the energy to play now.

Porky strides towards them and gives Oliver a big toothy grin. He gives Oliver a friendly bump on his shoulder and Oliver tries his best to smile back through all the pain.

Sebastian and Porky murmur some words as if they are grown men talking business, making Oliver feel uncomfortable.

“What brings you out here all alone, boy,” Porky asks in a fake cowboy accent.

Oliver lifts his shoulders, trying hard not to cry.

“Well, what is your name?” Porky continues to ask questions.

“His name is Oliver,” Sebastion answers for him, looking chuff that he knew it before Porky did.

“Oh,” Porky looks down and wipes his hand on his mud-stained T-shirt, ”I’m Lewis, but everyone calls me Porky.” He rubs on his fat stomach, indicating why people call him Porky.

“Some people call me Boney,” Oliver says making Porky and Sebastian snicker.

They start walking, looking frequently behind, making sure Oliver was following them.

“So where’s your family,” Sebastian asks, trying to make Oliver talk.

“I don’t know.”

“How old are you?”

“Nine,” Oliver says, noticing them entering a gap between tall trees. He inhales deeply, feeling somewhat relieved to be in a shadier and cooler space. He looks around, knowing about stories his mom read him, about how dangerous woods can be. He swallows, now and then stepping on a thorn from through the moss.

“How old are you guys?” Oliver asks, developing more confidence the more he spends time with them.

“I’m twelve,” Sebastians says with a smirk on his face.

“Ten,” Porky says, rolling his eyes, probably wanting to be the oldest.

“Yuck.” Oliver shudders as he walks into a thick spider web. He pats his body hard, trying to get every silky piece off of him.

“They won’t do anything,” Porky says looking at the disgusted Oliver, “we’re kids.”

Oliver notices a sad expression playing on Sebastian's face as if he has been through a lot even at his young age.

Birds chirp happily high in the trees and Oliver wishes he was one so that he can easily fly back home but he also didn’t want to, feeling intrigued by these two boys. He kept on wondering where they were going as he started to hear the faint noises of happy voices.

He felt excitement brewing in his stomach, feeling as if he was on an adventure.

“Everybody.” Porky calls and three more kids appear, standing in a row in front of them.

Oliver’s eyes widen as he sees his surroundings.

“Wow,” he whispers, turning around in awe. It feels like he entered a real-life movie.

A big space with no groups of trees makes it look like the wood has its own room. The ground is covered with greenier moss patches and red mushrooms. The sun shines through some branches of trees making the air look crystalized. At the far end is a weakly built wooden house, looking like it’s breaking apart. Colorful hammocks are tied in between trees, each one with thick blankets covering it.

“Who’s that?” A squeaky voice asks, bringing Oliver out of his dreamy state.

“This is Oliver,” Porky says defensively, folding his arms over his chest acting as if he won Oliver’s friendship and it’s a big deal.

“I’m Isabella.” A petite girl with two red pigtails jumps in front of Oliver. Her porcelain skin is smeared with dirt.

“Nobody cares.” Another kid says, looking exactly like Isabella. His big brown eyes roll behind cracked glasses.

Oliver bites his lips feeling sorry for Isabella but she doesn’t look bothered as she continues to splash around in a puddle of mud.

“Where's your parents?” A tall boy with blonde hair and icy blue eyes asks. He calmly inhales looking deep into Oliver’s eyes.

“I- I don’t know.” He stutters as everyone’s eyes were gawking at him.

“Alright buddy,” Porky slaps his back, motioning for him to walk forward. Oliver awkwardly moves but jumps when a figure falls from a tree but stops before landing on the ground.

Oliver screws his eyes trying to see better but soon feels embarrassed when he sees a girl hanging from a branch like a bat. Her eyes remind him of green grapes and her short hair of chocolate. She pulls herself at an angle so she can gently land on both her feet. She holds a dark-colored fruit out towards him and Oliver gracefully takes it whilst staring at her. She let him without saying anything.

As if in a trance, Oliver takes a bite out of the fruit, feeling relieved as the sweet juice swishes around his dry mouth. He eagerly takes another bite, making the girl giggle. Oliver’s cheeks turn red and he suddenly feels too shy to continue eating.

“Let’s go meet Jerry Po, Oliver,” Porky says, impatiently.

Oliver nods, following Porky, but giving the girl a small smile before he completely turns.

He quickly enjoys the fruit, until only the pit is left and throws it to the side next to a tree.

“So Jerry Po, can’t talk, but he always has a way to make you understand.” Porky talks, making Oliver frown.

“Is it your dad?” He asks, unsure.

Porky laughs,” No.” He says curtly, making Oliver inquisitive about who Jerry Po could be.

As we walk Porky lightly traces his fingertips on the barks of trees and some leaves hanging low. Oliver starts to do the same, maybe feeling something that Porky does.

He hears the faint sound of laughter and screams dying in the background.

“Jerry Po!” Porky calls and Oliver starts to nervously fidget with his hands.

He notices a round colorful tent ahead, reminding him of the time his mom took him to a circus.

What is a circus tent doing here?

A few seconds pass and an orangutan comes out, its arms long, carrying most of its weight.

Oliver scratches his head, feeling excited, knowing that someone in there has an orangutan as a pet.

“That’s Jerry Po.” Porky points at the orangutan.

“What?” Oliver asks unbelievably. He thought Jerry Pow was going to be a human.

Porky starts to laugh out of his stomach as if he expected that reaction.

“Hi.” Oliver greets, smiling brightly at Jerry Po.

Jerry Po makes a waving motion with his hands and looks at Porky questioningly.

“We picked him up on the streets. Looked like he was about to die.” Porky says, chuffed.

Jerry Po turns his head to the side as he looks at Oliver. Oliver feels like this is the most amazing encounter he ever had.

Jerry Po quickly turns and knuckle crawls back towards the tent and comes back with a bottle of water under his arms.

He gives it to Oliver, continuously nodding his head.

Oliver takes it with gratitude, “Thank you.”

He opens the bottle and takes a few swigs. It was warm but it helped to ease his thirst and Oliver gives him a thankful gaze.

“Jerry PO wants to know why you're alone?”

Oliver opens his mouth to speak but Porky interrupts him with another question.

“Did you walk away from home?”

“No!” Oliver almost shouts, shaking his head. I start to chew his cracked lips as Jerry Po and Porky stare at him.

“Then what happened?”

Thinking about what happened is like knots in his mind and the more he thinks about it the tighter it gets, squeezing tears out of his eyes.

“It’s okay,” Porky assures, probably noticing Oliver’s sad gaze.

“Someone took us away. My mom w-was unconscious,” Oliver whimpers, wiping the tears brimming his eyes, “I tried,” he takes a deep breath, “I tried to save her, but,” His breath becomes gasps, “they dropped me off.” Oliver ends, pointing the way he came from.

Porky swallows, “You’re lucky.”

Oliver didn’t understand why Porky would say something like that. He tries hard to keep his tears from falling down his red cheeks.

Jerry Po motions for Oliver to follow him, and they take a short sandy path towards the tent. Once inside Oliver notices the terrible state of things laying around. If it was him, mom would surely give him a hiding. Old circus rings, rusted lays on the ground as if a wild wind took it down. Boxes half opened, with a moldy smell, Oliver wanted to pinch his nose.

Jerry Po hands Oliver a black walkie-talkie, making motions with his hands, confusing Oliver.

“I think he’s saying that your mom has been sending signals out towards you, over the walkie-talkie,” Porky says, making Jerry Po nod enthusiastically.

Oliver’s eyes light up. Jerry Po indicates which button to press and Oliver starts talking.

“Mom?”

Nothing.

“Mom?” He tries again.

Still nothing.

He starts to walk around, trying to receive a better signal when he hears his mom's voice through the crackling white noise.

“Oliver?”

“Mom?”

“Oh baby, are you okay?” Her voice is filled with relief as she finally gets hold of her son.

“Yes, mom. Are you okay?” He was thankful that nothing serious happened to her.

“Yes baby, I’m with the police, where are you?”

“I don’t know, mom.”

“Describe it.”

Oliver starts to describe everything he saw on his way here, with the help of Porky.

“Ok honey, we are near, just hold on tight.” Were her last words making Oliver jump in happiness?

Porky gave him a look of envy and Jerry Po gave a wise smile.

“What are you guys doing?” The green-eyed girl asks, poking her head in the tent.

“Oliver found his mom and she’s on his way to come to get him,” Porky says quickly before anyone could beat him.

“Oh wow.” She says entering the tent, Isabella following behind her. A brief emotion of sadness is visible in her eyes.

“Where do you guys go to school?” Oliver asks, wanting to offer friendship.

“That’s probably something we should probably look into.” The green-eyed girl says looking down.

“You don’t go to school?” Oliver asks, frowning.

They shake their heads.

“Well, what’s your name?” Oliver finally has a little more guts.

“Rachell.” She says, shyly.

Isabella busies herself with some boxes as if she has never been there.

“Well, where are your parents?” Oliver was afraid to ask this question but it escaped his mouth before he could stop.

Their head falls but Jerry Po motions for them to start talking.

“Okay, we were all from the same foster care and, well, they didn’t treat us right so we decided to leave.”

“Oh,” Oliver looks down, feeling bad.

He bites his lips, knowing that that’s not the way a child should live.

“How did you meet Jerry Po?”

“He’s from my dad’s circus,” Rachell says, smiling at Jerry Po. “My dad passed-”

“Oliver.” His mom’s calling interrupts Rachell and Oliver excitedly runs towards the sound of her voice.

He jumps into her arms, ignoring her talking, and laughs with the other kids.

“Oh, my boy.” Her curly hair tickles his nose and his smile, feeling stable again.

“Mom, can they come live with us?” He doesn’t hesitate to ask, knowing his mom has a small heart. He explains to her their situation, about Jerry Po, and that they are not even going to a school.

“Hey, come meet Jerry Po.” Isabella runs up to my mom and grabs her hand, making his mom stumble forward.

“Honey, I wish I could, with the little money I get from my job, I’ll hardly be able to care for you all. But we’ll figure something out.” She follows Isabella into the tent. Her eyebrows knit together, and she feels more confused than Oliver seeing Jerry Po as an orangutan.

“Hi?” Her voice is soft and careful.

All the kids follow behind, reminiscing about the interaction. Oliver notices Porky’s big eyes on his mom as if he truly misses something.

Jerry Po, looks at her deeply, as if he’s busy unraveling every part of her. He smiles at her in a greeting manner.

“Have you been looking after all these kids?” Her voice is soft as she glances at every face standing around her, with a loving smile.

Jerry po nods eagerly.

“How do you feed them, how?” She has more questions to ask, but she couldn’t feel like it was all untrue. It can’t be right.

“Here’s many fruit trees here,” Rachell comments, looking back at Oliver and nodding.

“You have just been living on fruits?” Mom feels a spasm of sympathy for the kids.

“No, Jerry Po hunted a deer once. I helped him.” Sebastian says, putting his hands on his hips.

“You guys need proper food to eat. Bed?” She bites the flimsy skin from her fingernails, “You guys must get cold?”

“I don’t ever get cold,” Porky says, his eyes glinting with pride.

“I sometimes get cold.” Isabella confronts and some agree.

Oliver's mom stares at them, with a look of pity and helplessness. She combs strands of hair behind her ears, thinking deeply.

“What if we get great foster parents-” She starts to ramble but Isabelle and her brother interrupt.

“No!”

“I’d rather live here?”

“Me too.”

“Unless it’s Oliver’s mom, she seems nice.”

“Yeah.”

Guilt washes over Oliver’s mom, and she thinks about the bad experience all these children could’ve had and how hard it could be to find the right parents, who wouldn’t mistreat them.

“Okay, I’ll just work two shifts or something.” She says. She really wants to take them in.

Jerry Po grabs her hand and as if she heard what she said he leads her toward a box. On top of the box, ‘family’ is scribbled. When Jerry Po opens it, stacks of money lay perfectly next to each other. She looks from the money, toward Jerry Po, and understands his facial expression.

“Kids! We’re going to have a home.” She calls, knowing that this all happened for a reason.