​Look Left

As I sit down at the kitchen table, on the anniversary of the worst day in my life, I see a ray of sun beaming through the window down to the table. I become mesmerized by the dust particles swirling around and I start to imagine an escalator following the path of the sunbeam up to the “heavens”. People, no longer of this world, start to coalesce, riding the escalator to the top. Everyone is so happy, eager to reach the pinnacle of existence, so they hope. Halfway up, amongst other happy souls, I spot him. Cliche as it may be, my dad was my hero. Six foot two with broad shoulders and as strong physically as he was emotionally. On that late September morning two years ago, my dad and I were headed to the park to play catch. We never made it. We were listening to the pregame of the local Major League Baseball team. They clinched a playoff spot a couple days earlier and are the favorites to win the National League pennant. It was a green light as we approached the intersection, my dad was explaining why it’s so important to throw first pitch strikes. I marvelled at his knowledge and confidence. He was everything I want to be in the future. We neared the intersection and I felt something was off, I don’t know if I sensed the semi or if I caught a glimpse of the shadow in my peripheral vision but my world was about to change forever. We enter the intersection and I look left… I felt a tap on my shoulder and I come to. “You’re gonna be late for school”, my mom said with a yawn. I get up without a word and as I turn for the door, I catch the name of the woman newscaster on the T.V., “Avery Morning”. I open the door and head outside. It’s very warm, the early morning dew has already evaporated and the heat has already turned me off from the day to come. My house is very cookie cutter, a concrete path that goes from the sidewalk all the way to the stairs leading to the door, separates two equal plots of grass. Trees, equidistant from each other, border the street as far as the eye can see. If you haven’t guessed already I live in the suburbs.

On the bus, I always sit next to my best friend, Kyle Jenko. Slightly shorter than my six foot frame but just as strong with the skin tone of a weathered umber rock and he’s just as rough around the edges but that’s what makes us great together. He counterbalances my easy going pity party. He’s also my doubleplay partner, playing second base for the schools baseball team. “Hey Carter, did you do the math homework”. “What do you think, Jenks”? I said sarcastically. I call him Jenks. I don’t take school lightly however, I do take, how easy it is for me, for granted but I get it done. The rest of the bus ride we go over a couple of problems Kyle had issues with. I’m happy to help but my mind kept wandering. That happens a lot now days. I can’t stop imagining my dad going up that sunbeam escalator. Is that what really happens? Is there really a heaven? Does he watch me play baseball from up there? The hypotheticals kept coming. I realized we made it to the school, the ride was a blur.

Jenks and I are sitting in the back of our math class as we do every morning, waiting for Mr. Reber to finish today’s warm up questions. I open up my notebook ready to see what Mr. R has instore for us today. I hear the familiar light roar of a classroom that hasn’t settled down yet, the fluorescent light bouncing of my paper, making me imagine the escalator again. Then I feel a tap on my shoulder and the voice that followed sent a warm chill up my spine, my heart sped up. Her voice was filled with oxymorons. The tone had a sultry cuteness. It was pure but fell off at the end with a tad raspy finale. I look left…