He Came In Through The Back Door

He Came In Through The Back Door....
I saw him when he came in. Nobody else saw him. They were all too busy talking and laughing. But I saw him.

I was peeking out from behind my grandma’s chair. I liked to sit back there, because sometimes they would forget I was in the room. I listened to them talk about all kinds of things that they wouldn’t talk about if they knew I was there. Like the time that my grandma skinned my Uncle Peter alive. She said he couldn’t sit down for a week. She said she didn’t know if it was because of the lickin' she gave him, or being in that cat house with Frankie Dawson. I wasn’t sure what a cathouse was, but I guessed it must have been awful bad. Poor Uncle Peter.

Anyway, I saw him come in through the back door. He must have been 9 foot tall, ‘cause he had to scrunch down. He’s been here ever since. Never goes back out the door at all. He must just like to stay inside.

We talked a lot. He said that most people don’t see him because they have closed minds. They don’t believe there’s anything but humans like them. He said that people don’t see much further than their wallets or their coffee cups. He said that I have an excellent sixth sense. I asked my grandma about sixth sense. She said that it’s one of those things people say they have when they just want attention. She said that there was no such thing, and I shouldn’t worry about what fools talk about.

I knew that my friend was not a fool. He’d been lots of places. Places I couldn’t even find on the map that we had on the schoolroom wall. Miss Jean ask me one day what I was looking for on the map. When I told her, she said she didn’t know of any place like that, but she’d check into it. Then she told me later that there was no such place. She asked me where I’d heard of it. When I told her that my friend had been there she just laughed and said that she guesses he hadn’t, because there was no such place. She asked me who my friend was, and I told her all about him.

That was the day she wrote my mama the letter. That was the day that I knew I was probably in a bunch of trouble. My mama and grandma said we were going to have a sit down that evening. I couldn’t hide behind grandma’s chair that night. I was too old. They wanted to talk to me. It didn’t do much good to talk though. They did not have a sixth sense. When I told them that my friend was sitting in the room with us, my grandma just looked at mama real funny and said that maybe they needed to spend more time with me. Well, that wasn’t so bad, because they started spending more time with me and grandma spent lots of money on me.

My friend said it was okay if they didn’t see him. He said my friendship was plenty for him. He said he wanted me to stop worrying about it so much. He said when I got older I would be able to understand all of it better and I would be able to fit the pieces together. He said he would take me to some of the places he had been. Then I would meet others like him and not like him. There are lots of others different than me.

I had a friend named Flora Dean March. We walked to school together and done lots of other stuff. I was figuring on probably marrying up with her when we grew up. She had long yellow hair and her mama always tied big colored ribbons in it every morning. When we were little my grandma always said that Flora Dean was a bright ray of sunshine peeking over the wooden gate. I liked it when Flora Dean laughed. It made me feel kind of funny on the inside and made me want to do silly things like spread my jacket on the ground for her to sit down on.

One day I was walking with Flora Dean. It was on a Sunday and we had been to church. We decided we wouldn’t go straight home. We went to look for wild flowers instead. Flora Dean loved wild flowers.

Lo and behold! Right in front of a big patch of daisies, there stood my friend! I had never seen him outside before! He looked even taller outside. I started to run straight up to him, and then remembered that Flora Dean probably couldn’t see him. I turned and looked at Flora Dean, wondering what I should do. Flora Dean was standing there with her mouth wide open, just staring. She was staring at my friend!

“Look at that very tall man!” She could see him!
“Flora Dean! Can you see him? Can you see my friend?”
“He’s your friend?”
“Yes, but no one ever could see him but me. You can really see him?”
“Let’s go talk to him!”

Flora Dean went running right to him. I followed behind her, but it seemed so strange to me that she could see him. She had been in my house plenty and never saw him before. She was even in the same room with him.

We talked about lots of things. I told Flora Dean that he had been at my house for at least ten years now. I told her that she didn’t see him before. She laughed at me and said that would have been quite impossible.

“But it’s true, Flora Dean! It’s true! Tell her. Tell her you’ve been at my house for a long time.”

Well, my friend opened his mouth and started saying things that I didn’t want to hear. He told Flora Dean that there were only two ways that people could see him. They had a sixth sense like me or it was time for them to leave with him. That’s why he was here waiting for us. He said that it was time for Flora Dean to go.

“No! You can’t take Flora Dean away! Someday I’m gonna’ marry her! You always said that someday you would take me places. You said that when I was older I would go with you!”

My friend told me not to worry about all of it. It would be okay. He said that he would come back for me. But I couldn’t hear him right. I just didn’t want to lose my Flora Dean. I just kept hollering and grabbed Flora Dean’s arm. I tried to run with her, but she was jerking away from me.

“Stop it! You’re hurting my arm. Please stop! I’m not afraid to go. I want to go.”
“Flora Dean! You don’t know what you are saying! We have to run! I can’t lose you.”

Flora Dean was crying now and the ribbon in her hair was hanging over her face. It seemed like we were spinning around in circles.

Then I was holding on to nothing.
She was gone...

I was out of wind. I turned every way. She was gone and so was my friend. I found her hair ribbon lying on the ground. I picked it up and started running.

“Where are you? I’m gonna’ kill you! Bring her back!” I ran. I forgot where I was running. I didn’t know anything but pain and anger.

The folks from church found me lying on the ground with Flora Dean’s hair ribbon in my hand. I was all sweaty and dirty from the dust on the road. They told the sheriff that I was muttering and crying about killing somebody. No one could find Flora Dean.

There’s no reason to try to tell them anything. No one would believe me any way. My grandma says I'm such a young boy. She cries when she comes to see me. My mama keeps telling me it will be okay.

Funny. That’s what he said. He always said that....