Dust Out the Demons Inside

Drenched in sweat, Julius finished his run for the morning. The air still hadn’t moved for a couple of days and the clouds kept the heat in the city. Julius hadn’t seen a kite in weeks, and normally March was kite season.

All the kids had their favorite kites. The rec center didn’t have much, so they made their own kites. The shape stayed simple, but the kids elaborated their designs with color. They even made Julius one. It had red and gold stars on a background of royal blue.

He entered his apartment and started to strip off his wet gray t-shirt as he walked into the bathroom. He missed those kites. It meant that spring had come and the kids were ready to get back outside.

Bzzzt. Bzzzt. Bzzzt.

“Hello?” Julius said.

“Julius”

“Christ Mom, bout time you called.” Julius said.

“Enjoy your time off?” Mom asked. Julius didn’t need to reply, Mom knew the answer.

“Well, I’ve got something for you. It’s down at the Orphanage in the city. Go see a man named Christophe Moreau. Tell him you want to volunteer.” With that Mom hung up.

“Still hasn’t gotten down goodbyes yet...” Julius thought.

It’s still early in the morning, but the Orphanage opened early. Little kids are always awake it seems.

Julius knocked on the door. His skin felt tight and he seemed like breathing was a job.

Christopher Moreau opened the door and Julius walked into the Orphanage.

Every Streetlight Reveals the Picture In Reverse

The air was muggy and still compared to the cool, stale earthy air of the shed. The sun had just dropped below the skyline, but the rays lighted the belly of the sky. The kid just looked at Julius. He looked like a high schooler. His frame hadn’t filled out quite yet and he had the faintest showing of stubble.

“Kid, where did the thief run off?” Julius said.

No response. Just more of that spaced out look. God how Julius hated that. Take some interest in the things going on, not just yourself. The world is an interesting place if you look up for once.

Then again what did Julius know. The kid may never have seen a mugging. Lucky for him he thought.

He remembered his first mugging. Walking home from middle school. The weather had just turned to spring. The high schoolers were spread out along the path, enjoying the bright sun and sweet air. The group of kids didn’t seem harmless. He just kept walking straight.

“Look, I know you’re probably scared. Just point in the direction.” Julius said

Julius hadn’t lost anything valuable. Just a pencil or two. He just sat down when he got home. His grandparents were at his house that day. He didn’t really say much. Just sat there. He remembered trying to play it off, like he was older than a middle schooler. That it wasn’t a big deal. But he couldn’t keep up the act. His eyes dropped and suddenly his face was hot. He couldn’t look at his grandfather. He didn’t want to be seen like this in front of him, this large, compassionate, yet stoic man. His grandmother’s age softened hand patted his knee.

The kid pointed in the direction of H street.

“Thanks,” he said.

He ran off toward H street. Thievery wasn’t something he would tolerate. That mischievous smile of that high schooler on one spring afternoon stuck in his head. He could still feel that somewhat playful, yet powerful slap on the side of his head. He really couldn’t stand high schoolers.

Got You in a Stranglehold Baby

A sliver of light shone in through the dirty, cracked window pane. Dust motes flitted through the air. The air smelled stale and earthy. Julius lay motionless on the ground. He was in jeans and an olive green t-shirt.

Something bumped into the wall. Julius woke from the noise. He knew he wasn’t in the hospital again, his falling into the lake happened months ago, when snow still covered the ground. Looking around, he realized he was in some kind of tool shed. Shovels, rakes, and a random assortment of gardening tools were placed randomly in the small 10 foot by 5 foot shed.

Another bump against the wall, this time in front of Julius, by the door. He walked over to the tiny window. The sun was setting, turning everything into a hazy golden yellow.

He could hear shouting coming from outside. “What the hell is going on?” Julius thought. He couldn’t remember how he got into the shed. His head didn’t hurt, so he couldn’t have walked in to the shed during a drunken stupor.

He peeked through the window again. He could see what looked like two people wrestling. “Maybe just some stupid fight. People fight.” Julius thought.

The two people continued to grapple for a couple of minutes. Julius was getting bored. He hadn’t tried leaving the shed. He sort of enjoyed watching. It was an amateur fight. He could’ve knocked both out on one foot with a hand tied behind his back. Finally someone seemed to get the upperhand. The victor then rummaged through the pockets of the victim and ran off around the corner.

Fighting was one thing. Julius didn’t have a major issue with conflict, it wasn’t his go to, but he understood the need. However, theft was unacceptable. Julius tried the door handle but found it locked. He threw his shoulder against the door. Nothing happened. Once again he threw himself against the door. Nothing. “Shit, I’m getting old.” Julius said. On the third attempt, the threshold splintered with a crack. One last time Julius threw himself against the door and burst into the open air. Someone turned to him with a blank look. It wasn’t everyday that someone broke through a shed door. The thief, on the other hand, was long gone.