Just Like Heaven

Chapter Four

I don’t know how I got back home or how long it took me until the taxi finally stopped a little further away from our house and I got out of the car after paying the driver. Looking around to make sure nobody was passing by, I started to climb up to my room. I pulled up the window and walked inside. I looked down at my watch and saw that I still had half an hour before lunch.

       The scariest part of sneaking out of the house was going downstairs after returning; that was the only way I could find out if my parents had noticed my absence or not. So placing my notebook under my pillow carefully, I opened my bedroom door and quietly walked outside. Passing my father’s office room, I saw that his door was shut, which was a good enough sign; because if parents had known that I was gone, they would’ve both been downstairs, discussing my punishment. So when I saw that his door was closed, I knew that he was working.

       I walked into the hall, listening for any sort of sound from the kitchen – where Mother was cooking – that could mean that I was in trouble; such as Mother calling her friends to complain about me, or calling the neighbours to check if they had seen me. But I sighed to myself in relief when all I heard was the sound of the radio, playing Mother’s favourite old jazz music. 

       Knowing by now that the coast was clear, I put my hands in my pockets casually and walked into the kitchen, seeing that Mother was standing by the oven, cooking.

       At the sound of my footsteps, she turned to face me, giving me a disappointing look. “Why are you still wearing your church clothes, Edwin?”

       I cursed myself under my breath for forgetting all about that detail. “I – er – I’ll go change now.” She shook her head at me as I turned on my heels and went back upstairs, closing my door behind me.

       But that wasn’t going to be my last time dazing off that day and getting distracted, as my mind kept wondering back to St. Joseph’s church.

This state continued to stay with me even when I was called down to dinner that night. When I got down to the dining room, I saw that my parents were already seated on their usual spots. We had a rather large table with fourteen seats and a chandelier hung right above it in the middle. Father always took the seat at the top of the table, Mother took the one to his right, and me to his left. Although when we guest, she would sit at the other end of it, in front of her husband.

      “Edwin, would you say grace tonight?” said Mother and I nodded hesitantly.

       “Er… right.” I cleared my throat as the three of us laced out fingers together ad closed our eyes. “Bless us, oh Lord – er – and these your gifts that we’re – um – about to – er…”

        “Edwin!” Mother said sharply and my eyes snapped open, seeing that she was gaping at me. “What is with you today?”

        “Amen,” Father muttered and without the slightest attention to us, drew his chair closer to the table, and started with dinner. Mother gave him a look before turning her questioning gaze on me.

       “I’m sorry… I’m just a little… distracted, that’s all,” I said.

       “Distracted?” she repeated. “What for?”

       “Er… just… school stuff.”

        I was a fool to think that, that would smoothen things over, because the moment the words left my mouth, her glare became even sharper upon me as I tried to look away, avoiding her eyes.

      “And let me guess; you still haven’t done your school work for tomorrow, even though you had the whole weekend.”

       I sighed, holding up the fork and knife. “Can we please eat the dinner? It’s getting cold.”

       She shook her head at me again but didn’t protest any further and started eating as well. I hated when she did that; I hated the cold look she gave me each time she shook her head, as if I were the biggest disappointment in her life.

     “By the way, don’t set any meetings for the this Friday, Henry,” said Mother.

       “Why?” Father asked, not even bothering to raise his head to look at her. I was frankly more curious at him at what Mother was planning for next week, hoping to God that it didn’t concern me.

       “The Williams have invited us over for a dinner party,” she answered. But then all my fears came true when she turned to me and said, “You’ll be coming too, Edwin.”

      “What?” I groaned under my breath, even though I knew this was coming.

      “And not to mention I want you on your best behaviour,” she said in a warning tone. “Mr. and Mrs. Anderson’s daughter will be there too. I want you to meet her.”

       Those words hit me like a buckle of ice. I knew what she was thinking; that after I finished school this year in a few months, I was supposed to be sent off to a University, and once I was done with that as well, I was planned to find a good job and marry a girl from as honourable family; or at least, according to my mother. Mr. and Mrs. Anderson’s daughter was just a start to her plan for my future.

       Although the way things were going, I’m not sure if I could call it my future anymore.

The next day I had to get up early for school again, but I woke up with a sickening feeling that I knew was my guilt. I thought back about Adam Smith and the way I had overreacted and left him there while he was nothing but polite to me. A part of me wanted to skip school that day to just go and apologize to him, but I tried to convince myself that he was just the church janitor’s son. So what if I had left him there harshly? I probably was never going to see him again.

      So with those thoughts, I got myself to school. My parents had hired a private driver for me to get me to school right until sophomore year, when I’d had enough of people mocking me for it and persuaded my parents that I would rather walk to school, seeing as it wasn’t too far away.

     Although going by feet surely had its own problems, such as having to wake up earlier, or worst of all, Tommy Olson.

      Tommy Olson was a Junior student who went to the same school as I did but was a year younger me. His house was near the school and unfortunately on my way, so whenever sighted me passing from his window, he would rush out with his backpack hung loosely over his shoulder to catch up with me. For some while, I even tried to go different ways and try other alleyways to stay away from, but it seemed pointless and he somehow always found a way to walk with me to school, even for a few minutes. Therefore, I finally gave up and decided to just ignore him so I wouldn’t have to take longer ways to school.

       “Hey, Eddie! Hey!” I sighed to myself at Tommy Olson’s familiar squeaky voice and heard rushed footsteps running toward me. “Oh, sorry, ma’am,” he said when he nearly bumped into a middle-aged woman. “Eddie!”

       I just stood on my spot and waited for him to catch up for him, knowing that there was no point pretending that I hadn’t heard him calling me, because I was pretty sure even the people in two streets away had heard him too.

     “Hello, Tommy,” I said blankly.

     “Hey – Eddie,” he said as he reached me, panting. I wasn’t a fan of the way he called me, but I was had given up correcting him months ago.

      His name was Thomas Olson, although everyone called him ‘Tommy’. He was way shorter than me; not just because I was tall for my age, but because he was definitely shorter than average boys. He had blond hair and brown eyes, and he was slightly chubby and not very attractive when it came to looks, nor his behavior.

      “How was your weekend?” he asked as we started walking on.

     “Er…”

      “I had a blast!” He cut me off before I could even say anything. “I met this foxy girl! Right outside James Brown’s house. Man, she was looking fab. I didn’t get to talk to her much, but I could tell that she liked me…”

       As Tommy started rambling on and on about what I could tell was just his fantasy, I let my mind slip away. Maybe I could visit the church right after school. But I had to come up with an excuse for being home late.

       “…and then I yelled at James Brown and so then he tried to punch me but I ran away! It was top notch!” Tommy finished his story by the time we had reached school.

       “Look, why don’t you go to class?” I told him as I came to a stop by my locker, trying to shake him off.

       “No, it’s all right, I’ll come with you. My class is on the way,” Tommy shook a hand at me reassuringly, to which I was not too grateful for. He then suddenly lowered his voice and said, “Oh, look! Those foxy ladies are looking at you!”

      And sure enough, when I turned around, I saw three girls across the hall from us, speaking in whispers and giggling. I rolled my eyes at that; I always thought that giggles should be illegal.  

      So trying to ignore their annoying murmurs, I passed the hall to get to my class with Tommy quickening his pace to catch up with me.

      “I really don’t get you, Eddie,” said Tommy, dodging every once in a while so he wouldn’t bump into anyone, meanwhile I merely walked on a straight line and it was the others who went out of my way.

     “What do you mean?” I asked in an unenthusiastic manner.

     “I mean… you got all these foxy girls drooling after you –”

     “Please stop using the word ‘foxy’,” I said with a small huff. “It weirds me out.”

      “Well, it’s true!” He grinned sheepishly. “Is there really no one you would want to go steady with?”

      It took me a few seconds to answer him and say, “My parents are strict, okay? They don’t approve of me seeing a girl if my intentions for the future isn’t marrying her.”

      “So what?” Tommy shrugged, the edge of his lips twitching up into a smirk. “It’s not like they would find out or anything.”

     “Knowing my parents, they will find out some way,” I muttered, mostly talking to myself.

     The truth was, I never found girls attractive in the romantic way. Perhaps I hadn’t found ‘the one’ yet, but now that I come to think of it, maybe that was just an excuse I kept telling myself. A few years back when we had been around fourteen, girls were all my friends seemed to be able to talk about. At first I had tried to swoop in and to fit in the crowd by conversing along. But as time passed by, my talking turned into nods, then turned into mere listening, and eventually I stopped hanging around with them altogether. At first I thought I was just heartless for not wanting romance and whatever else it was that they wanted in life, but then I told myself that maybe I was meant to be a loner, that maybe I was better off alone with my books, my pens, my empty parchments, and my so-called-poems.

     I lost many friends to that thought over the years and now that I had finally turned eighteen, Tommy Olson seemed like the closest thing I had to a friend, even though whenever he rambled on all I wanted to do was to hit my head against the wall. Although I had finally accepted his company as a friend.

     Tommy waved me goodbye when we finally reached his class, but bumped into the door, causing an outbreak of sniggering and I only smiled, shaking my head at him as I walked my way further down the hall to get to my class.

     As the teacher was talking on, I found my gaze wondering toward the cloak often, my mind wandering away. For some reason, no matter how much I tried, I still couldn’t get over the guilt of walking away from Adam Smith yesterday at church. I remembered small creek, the cherry blossom tree, the spring breeze. I remembered his voice and the way he seemed to have been lost in his own world as he sang and played the piano in the backroom.

      I tried to shake my head off the matter. I tried to focus on the lesson. But the ticking of cloak was louder to my ears than the teacher’s voice. I suddenly found myself counting each second, my foot stumping on the floor from under my desk anxiously as I waited for the class to end.

      I had a plan. I needed to see Adam Smith today.