Different and Cool- Unreal

Different and Cool: Unreal

By Reid M. Haynes

*****

THURSDAY NIGHT

         It was a small dwarf of a house, a one-story dwelling typical of this part of the neighborhood. Andy's own house was two stories; though it was only a three minute drive away, there was a marked difference between his side of the neighborhood and hers. An elegant, baby ash tree livened up the front yard, giving the humble Reichardt residence a fantastical look. Between the unfamiliar setting, and the fact that he had never dared to visit Tarah before tonight, he felt himself a stranger in a strange land, and there was no stopping the chills from going up his spine.

         It was unreal.

         The engine of the Joltswagon rumbled behind him, and he turned to find Aunt Mary leaning out the window. "Andy, are you sure you're going to be alright out here?" she asked, a look of maternal concern washing over features. "You want us to wait a little while for you?"

         Andy shook the cobwebs out of his head; he had been standing out here in the cold for two minutes. "I'm fine," Andy said, forcing some resolution into his voice. "I'll call you when we're done, okay?"

         Mary smiled, and reached into the backseat. "Don't forget your notes, now!" she told him, a sparkle of mirth dancing in her eye as she handed him four pages containing the work Tarah and he had done on their school project. "You don't want to start from scratch, my little philosopher!"

         "It's barely enough to count as notes." Andy relaxed a bit as he took the proffered pages with a small smile. "Thanks."

         "We're wasting gas," Uncle Noah reminded them from the driver's side. "Go on, Andy!"

         "Right, right," Andy said, turning back to the house, and his imminent conflict.

         Leaving behind the family station-wagon, Andy proceeded down the cobblestone walkway leading to the front door, his feet splashing in the small puddles left over from the rainstorm. As he moved closer to Tarah's house, he felt the strange, unnatural sensation return, as if his every step took him further and further away from normalcy. It was like a jaunt in the jungle from home camp, with a handful of schoolwork serving as traveling gear. He reacted to these jitters with frustration, angry at himself for this intrinsic cowardice.

         Tarah Reichardt was sort of his friend, after all, He could now admit that to himself, after three days of working with her on the project, and learning there was more to her than a geek with glasses and braids. On the fourth day, he had betrayed her, participating in bullying her along with his friends, and shattering their relationship like hand-spun glass. Despite any misgivings he had about her popularity, or lack thereof, he had known immediately that it was wrong, and he would endure any social awkwardness to set things right.

         Arriving at the door, his finger lanced out to the doorbell before more trepidation could set in. The chime was elegant and grand, more fitting for a manor-house than a neighborhood hovel. Again, nervousness attacked him, and he fought the urge to glance back at the Joltswagon, his only escape back to a Tarah-less lifestyle. Instead, he dug his heels into the welcome mat, as if gluing himself in front of her house.

         Mercifully, a shadowy figure from beyond the curtains arrived to answer the bell. The door opened, and a thirty-something woman with youngish feature greeted Andy, her long, blond hair twisting down her back in a braid. She stared down at Andy, her protuberant eyes fixated on his. "Can I help you?" she asked with some curiosity. placing her hand on her hip.

         Andy's voice caught in his throat. and he gulped down a mouthful of butterflies. "I...um, is this Tarah Reichardt's address?" he tried, truly hating how awkward the question came out.

         "Oh, you must be Andrew, Tarah's classmate!" The woman smiled; a bright, openhearted grin resembling Tarah's own. "Did Tarah forget some schoolwork at your house yesterday?"

         The boy regarded the papers containing the notes he took with Tarah. "Sort of," he answered, the previous night entering his thoughts like a flood. "Can Tarah come down, please?"

         Tarah's mother averted her eyes and put a hand to her chin. "She's kind of moody today," she said, more to herself than Andy. "When she came home this afternoon, she rushed immediately to her room and shut the door. She hasn't let me talk to her, but I think something happened."

         Once more, unpleasant feelings arose in his heart; this time; it wasn't fear. "I know," he admitted, finding his voice amid his shame. "I need to talk to her about that."

         She looked down at him, a look of suspicion now on her face. Yet Andy's gaze, however remorseful, was firm, and his jaw was set in all seriousness. Seemingly understanding his intentions, the smile returned full-force. "Well, I'll see if she can come down for a chat!" she said, moving aside so that the boy could enter. "My name's Margaret. You should probably just call me by that."

         Andy nodded to her, and walked through the doorway. On impulse, he took a look behind him, and saw Noah and Mary leaving the driveway and coasting down the street behind a host of trees. Turning back to the foyer, he found the Reichardt family heirlooms in front of him, cabinets containing many oddball ornaments like painted pinecones, glass insects, and small, clay urns. Just like that, his old world was gone, and he was in Tarah's.

         It was unreal.

         Before Andy could contemplate this further, Margaret walked down the hall a ways and called for her daughter. "Tarah, there's someone at the door for you!"

         "Who is it, Mom?" a shrill, chirping voice answered. Andy's heart leapt in his throat at the sound of his eccentric classmate.

         "Andrew Champion!" the woman said. "From school!"

         Margaret waited with Andy for an answer, tossing a quick apologetic look at the young lad. After a while, though, the silence became stark, and the two could hear the kit-cat clock on the wall clicking away the seconds. A minute more passed, and Margaret tried again. "Tarah?" she projected, putting a hand to her mouth. "It's your friend Andrew! Don't you want to see him?"

         Again, she was met with silence, and Margaret turned towards Andy with a flash of concern. "I've never gotten this from Tarah before!" she breathed. "What happened with you two?"

         Andy grit his teeth behind his lips, his eyebrows furrowing with determination. "I'm going in there," he told Tarah's mother, keeping his eyes locked on the hallway ahead.

         As Margaret watched with worry, Andy proceeded through the catastrophic house, blocking out everything else but that brief snippit of Tarah's voice. After several small turns, he reached a door with a cutout of an exotic spider hanging on a nail by a string. He placed his hand on the knob, its slick, polished brass shocking him with a spark of static electricity. Taking one last deep breath, he opened the door, letting out a swath of bright light that hit him in the face like the radiance of the heavens.

         The first thing he noticed was her ocean blue eyes, opening up like shutter-lenses behind her glasses. Her entire face was pale with shock, her lips trembling very slightly in a uncertain rhythm. Instead of her customary braids, Tarah's hair was down and around her shoulders, giving her a serene, earthly appearance that was in far contrast to the sprightly, overeager girl he had come to know. Wearing a pair of sweatpants and a light t-shirt, she was sprawled out on the bed and playing with a pet lizard she kept in a fish tank.

         Andy and Tarah stared at each other a moment more. Then, Tarah turned away, her face unreadable as she resumed petting her lizard friend. He wasn't sure, but Andy thought he could see her stiffen a bit, as if preparing for a fierce blow. Her eyes were hidden now, the light from the ladybug lamp causing an eerie shine on the lenses of her glasses. She was in the room with him, and yet she was not, her inner emotions locked away in the depths of her heart.

         Andy took a step forward, gathering up his nerve. "H-Hi, Tarah," he started, his hand gripping the papers reflexively. "I came by to tell you...I'm really sorry about what I did with Justin and Slick. I wasn't thinking straight, and I didn't mean it. I just...can we make this right again?"

         The girl's mouth tightened into a small line. "You really hurt me, you know," she said softly, closing the top of her fish tank in a deliberate motion.

         Suddenly, Tarah turned on him with a savage expression. "How could you do that to me!?" she screamed, pure fury in her eyes as she sprang off the bed like a panther. "You treated me just like everyone else does! I thought you were my friend!" Her entire body was shaking as her voice lowered to a sorrowful croak, tears streaming down her cheeks. "But you're not..."

         Andy's own eyes were starting to water, and on instinct, he reached out to touch her shoulder. She angrily shook him off, wiping her nose as she choked out another humiliated sob. Just like after the incident on the sports field, she wouldn't look at him, as if he were lower than the bugs and spiders she loved to research. Andy felt even lower than that.

         He moved around to her side, forcing her to meet his gaze. "Tarah, I am your friend," he said, leaning forward so that she couldn't break eye contact easily. "Joining in with those guys was stupid and cowardly, and I hate myself for it. I'll never hurt you like that again. On my mom's grave, I promise you."

         This time, Andy turned away, his expression darkening. "And it wasn't just you I ran away from, either," he said as he began pacing about the room. "I've been going over things, and I think I've been running away for years. My friends, Justin and Slick, I mean, I go along with everything they do. This week was the first time I ever tried something different, something I wanted."

         Tarah bit her lip, fidgiting in place. "All lifeforms follow patterns based on their biology and environment," she spoke hesitantly, as if reciting from a textbook. "It's the law of Nature."

         Andy frowned, remembering similar words coming from her yesterday when they were working on their project. "You're wrong, Tarah," he told her. "Humanity has infinite possibilities for learning and growth. Even your nature programs show us this. I've seen instances where cats more or less raise dogs, like...an extended family."

         Tarah's eyes widened, and she raised her head to stare at him willingly. "You watched Unusual Affinities on the Animal Channel," she gasped, a trace of wonder in her voice. "That's one of my favorite shows."

         "Yeah." The smile shone off Andy's face like a gleaming apple. "I remember you talking about it in class one day."

         A burst of inspiration hit him, and he shrugged off his green jacket. "This jacket, right here, I bought it because it had Slick's favorite hockey team on it." he explained, holding the garment out for her to examine. "It was just so I could pretend to talk about sports with him. I don't even like hockey that much. I never knew what's going on in those few times I watched it."

         "Yeah, it's really violent too!" Tarah smiled, almost in spite of herself. "And the jacket doesn't match your hair."

         Andy nodded, though he had never thought of the color clash before. "I can't do this anymore," he finished up, tossing the jacket away like an empty trash bag. "I've done it for three years, and I'm tired. I want to get to know myself, and I want to get to know you." He ran a hand through his shaggy mane, feeling self-conscious with all his speechifying. "W-What do you say?"

         Tarah's voice was like a ghostly spirit. "That sounds cool, Andrew," she said, her smile warming her face like hot chocolate.

         Andy smiled in kind, a sudden burst of energy flowing through him. "Tarah, we still have our notes from last night," he continued, as she moved closer to him. "If we start working right now, we can probably..."

         All further conversation was cut up as Tarah leapt upon him in a vice-like hug, knocking the pages from his hand. She clutched his forearms, her head nestled to the side of his neck. After a moment's pause, Andy's arms slowly found their way around the girl, feeling the gentle warmth from her back. Her entire frame built up and released a shuttering sigh; she felt featherweight, fairy-like.

         "I knew you were different," she whispered into his ear, her breath heavy on his pale skin.

         Andy closed his eyes, feeling his shoulders relax. The mists of his mind were clearing up, and for the first time in years, he let himself feel the emotions he had buried deep within himself. In Tarah's arms, it was warm, the human contact three worlds away from the false fun-house he had been sharing with Justin and Slick.

         It was truly, truly real.

                             END