Loud Lily #9
The footprints in the snow suddenly ended.
It was January 7th. David was seven years old and had just slept through his first blizzard. Several clouds had ejected three feet of snow in David’s neighborhood during the night. He had gone to bed expecting his front yard to be in the same condition that he had left it, and had woken up, eaten breakfast, and brushed his teeth with the same expectation. It wasn’t until he was getting dressed that he noticed anything was different. Within ten minutes of seeing the soft powder caking his window David had convinced his mother to let him outside to play.
Though Irma still blames herself for what happened on January 7th, in the end she hadn’t been acting irresponsibly. Her youngest son, Kyle, was running a fever and David was cautious. He never ventured outside their yard, she made him wear plenty of warm clothing, and because the meteorologist had predicted a slim continuation of the blizzard she made him promise that he would be back before lunchtime. What Irma had failed to take into account was the impact that a first snowfall has on a young child.
David, who usually had a rigid order for his activities outside, was overwhelmed by the appearance of the fresh powder. In the first half hour he had built a snowman, made three snow angels, and started a snowball fight with an elderly neighbor who had not reciprocated. It was only in his extreme boredom that David left his front yard, and in doing so, discovered the trail of footsteps.
The footprints, which had begun on a sidewalk three houses away from David’s home, were only slightly larger than his. They first led down three blocks to a neighborhood park, twisting in and out of the various pieces of jungle gym equipment. As David was walking in a serpentine fashion along the swings, it occurred to him that he was acting foolishly. For a brief period of twenty steps, which traversed the monkey bars, David considered turning around and following the trail back to his home, but was entranced by each new footprint. Eventually David decided that he would simply find out where this person had been going and then return home.
At the end of the park, the trail veered a sharp right into a forest that had yet been affected by suburban sprawl.
Unbeknownst to David, the forest was a popular source of mythology amongst the local adolescents. Practically every twelve-year old boy who lived within one mile had been dared to spend a night alone there, and practically every one declined. Brad Crichton would tell anyone who would listen about the time that he lasted there until midnight, before being chased out by a band of wolves. His story became a legend.
After several hundred yards into the forest, the footsteps abruptly stopped. The last footprint, which had been a right footstep, was only partially imprinted, as if the person had begun taking an additional step before they disappeared. David, who refused to believe that his game had ended, spent the next ten minutes searching around the area for any additional tracks. Finding none, David removed both his mittens, reached into his coat pocket, fished out his rosary, twisted it two times around his left wrist and gripped the cross firmly in his hand.
This ritual was performed every time David wanted to focus on something. Last year, David began watching a kids show about 10-year old twin spies. Whenever the young girl began her investigations she would take a band off her wrist and put her hair up in a ponytail, as a cue to the audience that she was getting serious. This action usually preceded some sort of clue-finding montage, which was always David’s favorite part of the show.
David quickly found a stick and started a list in the snow with the heading: THEORIES.
David immediately imagined that some person had started the trail of footprints, only to stop halfway and retrace their steps in a backwards fashion. Under the heading David added the word: BACKWARDS.
For the next twenty minutes David started, then attempted to retrace, various tracks of footprints in the snow. None of his efforts, however, revealed a perfect recombination, always leaving some slight detail, a double marking of the logo or a slight curve to the right, which made it impossible to create the perfect unfinished trail. He inspected the footprints of the mystery person and found that each was flawless and cleanly imprinted. If the person had retraced their steps backward, they were very patient and very skilled.
David plopped under a tree and started rolling snowballs with his hand. In the midst of preparing a three story tall pyramid in case of a surprise attack, David formulated his second theory: COVERED TRACKS.
David ran to the last footprint and, instead of stopping, followed the side of the hypothetical trail inspecting the snow for telling marks. After an additional ten or so yards of what would have been the mystery walker’s given path only yielded fresh snow David returned to the tree.
Picking up his stick, David whacked the tree several times in rapid succession. Some snow that had been lodged in the branches fell free and scared a bluebird into taking off, inspiring David’s third theory: ANGEL, for which the data would prove inconclusive.
This pattern continued well into the night at which time the winds began picking up and the sun was no longer visible. David, however, was oblivious, and his list of theories grew; included the practical (SHOVELLER), the religious (PARTING OF SNOW), and the magical (LEVITATION). Some theories were easily dismissed. CHARIOT OF FIRE was crossed out within seconds of it being written, as there was no melted snow in the vicinity. Others required more thought. TELEPORTATION was only ruled out because it seemed both wasteful and illogical to walk all the way into the forest to transport oneself elsewhere. Some were eliminated by practical evidence. ALIEN ABDUCTION was unlikely because the trees over the last footprint would have obstructed a gravity beam.
The last thing David remembered was squinting between the driving snows to see if his thirty-strong list already contained TIME TRAVEL.
The firemen who found David caught sight of the rosary beads bright colors against the snow. David’s left hand was the only body part that avoided complete submersion by the blizzard.
David remained in the ICU for a week before being remanded to his parents’ care. The rosary had frozen to his skin and was only removed on the second day. The outline of a cross on his left palm remained permanent, and was still visible thirteen years later during the year of his death.
The incident marked several milestones for David. It was the first time that he had explicitly disobeyed his mother. It was also the first time he permanently marked his body. But more importantly, it was the first time David’s parents began to suspect that there was something seriously wrong with their son.
It was January 7th. David was seven years old and had just slept through his first blizzard. Several clouds had ejected three feet of snow in David’s neighborhood during the night. He had gone to bed expecting his front yard to be in the same condition that he had left it, and had woken up, eaten breakfast, and brushed his teeth with the same expectation. It wasn’t until he was getting dressed that he noticed anything was different. Within ten minutes of seeing the soft powder caking his window David had convinced his mother to let him outside to play.
Though Irma still blames herself for what happened on January 7th, in the end she hadn’t been acting irresponsibly. Her youngest son, Kyle, was running a fever and David was cautious. He never ventured outside their yard, she made him wear plenty of warm clothing, and because the meteorologist had predicted a slim continuation of the blizzard she made him promise that he would be back before lunchtime. What Irma had failed to take into account was the impact that a first snowfall has on a young child.
David, who usually had a rigid order for his activities outside, was overwhelmed by the appearance of the fresh powder. In the first half hour he had built a snowman, made three snow angels, and started a snowball fight with an elderly neighbor who had not reciprocated. It was only in his extreme boredom that David left his front yard, and in doing so, discovered the trail of footsteps.
The footprints, which had begun on a sidewalk three houses away from David’s home, were only slightly larger than his. They first led down three blocks to a neighborhood park, twisting in and out of the various pieces of jungle gym equipment. As David was walking in a serpentine fashion along the swings, it occurred to him that he was acting foolishly. For a brief period of twenty steps, which traversed the monkey bars, David considered turning around and following the trail back to his home, but was entranced by each new footprint. Eventually David decided that he would simply find out where this person had been going and then return home.
At the end of the park, the trail veered a sharp right into a forest that had yet been affected by suburban sprawl.
Unbeknownst to David, the forest was a popular source of mythology amongst the local adolescents. Practically every twelve-year old boy who lived within one mile had been dared to spend a night alone there, and practically every one declined. Brad Crichton would tell anyone who would listen about the time that he lasted there until midnight, before being chased out by a band of wolves. His story became a legend.
After several hundred yards into the forest, the footsteps abruptly stopped. The last footprint, which had been a right footstep, was only partially imprinted, as if the person had begun taking an additional step before they disappeared. David, who refused to believe that his game had ended, spent the next ten minutes searching around the area for any additional tracks. Finding none, David removed both his mittens, reached into his coat pocket, fished out his rosary, twisted it two times around his left wrist and gripped the cross firmly in his hand.
This ritual was performed every time David wanted to focus on something. Last year, David began watching a kids show about 10-year old twin spies. Whenever the young girl began her investigations she would take a band off her wrist and put her hair up in a ponytail, as a cue to the audience that she was getting serious. This action usually preceded some sort of clue-finding montage, which was always David’s favorite part of the show.
David quickly found a stick and started a list in the snow with the heading: THEORIES.
David immediately imagined that some person had started the trail of footprints, only to stop halfway and retrace their steps in a backwards fashion. Under the heading David added the word: BACKWARDS.
For the next twenty minutes David started, then attempted to retrace, various tracks of footprints in the snow. None of his efforts, however, revealed a perfect recombination, always leaving some slight detail, a double marking of the logo or a slight curve to the right, which made it impossible to create the perfect unfinished trail. He inspected the footprints of the mystery person and found that each was flawless and cleanly imprinted. If the person had retraced their steps backward, they were very patient and very skilled.
David plopped under a tree and started rolling snowballs with his hand. In the midst of preparing a three story tall pyramid in case of a surprise attack, David formulated his second theory: COVERED TRACKS.
David ran to the last footprint and, instead of stopping, followed the side of the hypothetical trail inspecting the snow for telling marks. After an additional ten or so yards of what would have been the mystery walker’s given path only yielded fresh snow David returned to the tree.
Picking up his stick, David whacked the tree several times in rapid succession. Some snow that had been lodged in the branches fell free and scared a bluebird into taking off, inspiring David’s third theory: ANGEL, for which the data would prove inconclusive.
This pattern continued well into the night at which time the winds began picking up and the sun was no longer visible. David, however, was oblivious, and his list of theories grew; included the practical (SHOVELLER), the religious (PARTING OF SNOW), and the magical (LEVITATION). Some theories were easily dismissed. CHARIOT OF FIRE was crossed out within seconds of it being written, as there was no melted snow in the vicinity. Others required more thought. TELEPORTATION was only ruled out because it seemed both wasteful and illogical to walk all the way into the forest to transport oneself elsewhere. Some were eliminated by practical evidence. ALIEN ABDUCTION was unlikely because the trees over the last footprint would have obstructed a gravity beam.
The last thing David remembered was squinting between the driving snows to see if his thirty-strong list already contained TIME TRAVEL.
The firemen who found David caught sight of the rosary beads bright colors against the snow. David’s left hand was the only body part that avoided complete submersion by the blizzard.
David remained in the ICU for a week before being remanded to his parents’ care. The rosary had frozen to his skin and was only removed on the second day. The outline of a cross on his left palm remained permanent, and was still visible thirteen years later during the year of his death.
The incident marked several milestones for David. It was the first time that he had explicitly disobeyed his mother. It was also the first time he permanently marked his body. But more importantly, it was the first time David’s parents began to suspect that there was something seriously wrong with their son.
posted by Loud Lily at 4:04 AM
1 Comments:
This was both really funny (all the options) and an intriguing story. I SO want to know why he died :)
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