Kevin

"Tina, why are you crying?" Angela asked the blond- headed eighth-grader sitting in her office.

"I don't know."

"Tina, you can talk to me. I'm your guidance counselor and anything you tell me won't go beyond these walls."

Trying to talk through her sobs, Tina managed to say," My parents…they're going' to kill me."

"Why are your parents going to kill you, Tina?"

Very softly, Tina replied," I missed my period."

"Well, that doesn't necessarily mean you're pregnant. How long has it been?"

"Two weeks."

"Still, you might just be going through an irregular period. You should take a home pregnancy test before you get too upset. But, first, you need to let your parents know what's going on."

"No, I can't. They would freak out. I'll do the test on my own and if I'm pregnant… Jason is going to pay for an abortion!"

"Don't be so quick in your decision. You're only a kid. You need to discuss this with your parents."

Angela could see that Tina was becoming frustrated.

"No, I don't! I can make my own decision! I don't even know why I told you. You couldn't possibly understand what I'm going through."

Tina stormed out of the room.

Angela sighed loudly and began thinking of her daughter.

The school bell rang to announce that recess was over. Angela left her office and headed for the teacher's lounge to buy a soda from one of the vending machines while all the students were heading for their classrooms.

After purchasing a diet soda, she decided to make her way to the elementary side of the school where her daughter attended class. Teresa, who just turned six, looked like her mother, with dark brunette hair and the same almond-shaped green eyes. It was her first year attending school and Angela felt a need to check on her several times an hour. Besides her parents, her daughter was all she had in the world, since her husband's tragic car wreck.

After watching her daughter through the small glass window in the classroom door for nearly ten minutes, Angela decided she best get back to her office before the principal had her fired for not performing her duties. As she was passing an exit door which led to the playground, she noticed a small dark- haired boy sitting on one of the swings. She knew all the children should be in their classes, so she walked outside to him.

The young boy looked to be about eight. He was drawing in a sketch pad when she approached him.

"Shouldn't you be in class?"

The boy said nothing and kept drawing. Angela sat in the swing next to him.

"What are you drawing?"

Without looking up, he said," This is where I live."

Angela looked at the drawing. It was a drawing of a little boy in a field of green, standing beside a lake of blue. The number thirty nine was written in black across the sky. The cartoon boy was alone and wore a frown.

"That's a beautiful picture. Who is this?" Angela pointed at the sad looking child.

"That's me."

"You? Why are you so sad?"

"I don't like being alone."

"What is this place… an orphanage?"

"No, it's where I was sent."

"Who sent you here?"

The boy did not answer.

Just then, Mr. Henry, the school janitor, walked across the playground and into the maintenance building, looking her way the whole time.

The boy tore the drawing from the pad and handed it to Angela.

"Here, I want you to have this."

He looked up with the most beautiful green eyes she had ever seen, but they were filled with hatred.

"Thank you, so much. It's beautiful."

Angela looked up and saw Mr. Henry standing in the doorway of the maintenance building. He had a perturbed look on his face. She put the drawing inside her purse.

"Wait right here. I'll be right back."

Angela walked up to the grey-haired Mr. Henry who was wearing blue over-alls and a plaid, long-sleeved shirt, the only outfit she had ever seen him in.

"Why the face, Mr. Henry? What's wrong?"

"Miss Lancer, I try to stay out of everyone's business as much as I can, but when it comes to the safety of these children, I must butt in."

"What are you talking about?"

"What ever medication you are taking or drugs you are on, you don't need to be using them while at this school."

"What are you talking about? I don't do drugs and I'm not on any kind of medication! Why would you say such a thing?"

"Miss Lancer," Mr. Henry accusatorily said. "I have been watching you for ten minutes sitting on that swing over yonder acting like you are talking to someone."

Angela turned around to see only an empty playground.

"I was talking to a little boy when you walked by."

"Miss Lancer, there was no one sitting by you when I passed by. You were talking to yourself."

A chill ran down Angela's back. She knew she was talking to a young dark-haired boy, but how did Mr. Henry not see him. She quickly reached inside her purse and retrieved the drawing she was given.

"Look, he drew this and gave it to me."

"Nice drawing. Did your daughter draw this?"

"No, the boy sitting on the swing gave it to me a few seconds ago."

"Miss Lancer, there's been no one sitting next to you since I've been out here. Perhaps he left before I came outside."

"But, I saw you…."

"Miss Lancer, I've got to get back to work. I won't mention this to anyone but I'm going to keep my eye on you."

Mr. Henry walked away leaving Angela feeling confused.

When the last bell rang to announce school was over, Angela was already waiting outside of her daughter's class room. Teresa broke into a huge smile when she saw her mother.

"How was school? Did you have fun?"

"I made this for you."

Teresa handed her mother a card made from red poster board with "I Love You, Mom" written all over it. Angela picked her daughter up.

"This is for me? It's so beautiful! I love you, too!"

She kissed Teresa all over her face, causing the little girl to giggle.

"Let's go home."

"Okay."

Angela was standing in her kitchen, slicing potatoes, looking out the window and watching Teresa play in the back yard. Their house was built in the middle of a corn field her husband once worked. Now, she had to hire farmers to plant and harvest the corn because she needed the extra income. Guidance counselors don't warrant a huge salary.

The pre-heat timer sounded on the oven. Angela placed her sliced potatoes on a cooking pan and slid them inside the oven. She jumped when she turned back around to find Teresa wasn't alone. She was talking to someone near the edge of the corn, who stayed just inside the stalks, obscuring her view of the stranger.

Angela quickly rushed outside. When she got to her daughter, the stranger was gone.

"Who were you talking to?"

"My friend. He's nice?

"Your friend? Who is he? Where does he live?"

"I don't know."

"How long has he been your friend?"

"Not too long."

"Where did he come from?"

"He says he lives here."

Angela's heart stopped when her daughter handed her a drawing just like the one the young boy on the swing had given her. The number thirty nine was still depicted prominently in the sky.

"Did he tell you what his name was?"

"Kevin."

The same familiar chill returned as before and ran down the length of Angela's body.

"I don't want you talking to him anymore."

"Why, he's my friend."

"Just promise me you won't talk to him anymore. I want you to get me if you ever see him again, okay."

"Okay."

That night, after tucking Teresa into bed, Angela decided to stay up and catch up on some reading. She wasn't two pages into the book when she heard voices coming from her daughter's room. She put the book down and quietly made her way to the last room down the hall. She recognized her daughter's voice but it was too muffled through the closed door to make out what she was saying. She opened the door to find her daughter standing in front of her open bedroom window. Teresa spun around with a "cat ate the canary look" plastered on her face.

"Who are you talking to?"

"No one."

"I heard you! Was it the boy from earlier? Was it Kevin?"

Teresa lowered her head and stuck out her bottom lip.

"Yes."

"Why didn't you come and get me?"

"He told me not to."

Tears were starting to fall from Teresa's eyes.

"He told me you were a bad person. He said you were going to hurt me like you hurt him. He wants to save me."

Angela knelt down and held her daughter tight.

"I would never hurt you. Look at me."

Teresa looked at her mom with a tear stained face.

"I would never hurt you or anyone else."

"Kevin said you hurt him."

"I don't know who Kevin is!."

"He said he wants to take me with him to the "happy place".

Ice ran through Angela's veins. She looked out of the window for any sign of the mysterious boy. He was no where to be seen in the darkness of the night but lying on the ground was another drawing. She managed to reach through the open window and retrieve the drawing.

The drawing was of a two-story house, complete with a mailbox and a white picket fence. The number thirty nine was hanging in the blue sky like Kevin's other drawings. The house looked very familiar to Angela. On closer examination, she could make out numbers on the mailbox… 1432. That was the number to her old house she had grown up

in. It burnt down several years ago, about two months after she left for college. This drawing was of that house complete with her old tire swing hanging from a maple tree.

Angela's whole body was engulfed in a numbing coldness of fear. She didn't know who this mysterious boy was, where he came from, or why he wanted to take Teresa away. She picked her daughter up and carried her to her bed down the hall. She laid her down and watched her sleep until the wee hours of the morning.

The next morning at school, Angela went through the school record, searching for information on Kevin. After looking at every one, she only found two boys with the name, Kevin, and neither one was the boy she sat with on the swings. She began to wonder if she was going mad. But her daughter saw the boy too. They would have to be going crazy together. No, there must be another explanation, she told herself.

After lunch, Angela was walking through the school playground when she approached the same swing where she had first seen Kevin. Her heart started beating in her chest. Laying on the swing was another drawing. She cautiously picked the drawing up. It was a drawing of the house she grew up in, but after the fire. There was an object drawn in the middle of the blackened house but she could not make out what it was. In the smoky sky was the number thirty nine.

She nervously looked around for any sign of Kevin. He was no where to be seen. She wondered why this young boy was leaving her these drawings. Was he trying to tell her something? Was he even real? These questions weighed heavy on her mind for the remainder of the day.

That evening, Angela left Teresa sleeping in her room while she took a shower. She made sure all the doors and windows were locked before she left. When she finished, she walked into her room to find Teresa gone. Fear began to creep over her. She tried to remain calm as she called for her daughter. There was no answer. She made her way to her daughter's room only to find the window open.

"TERESA!"

She ran to the window and looked out. Teresa was nowhere in sight. As she turned around to run outside, she stepped on a paper lying on the floor. She picked it up and saw that it was a drawing of the "happy place". The same little boy was standing in the foreground like before but this time he was not alone. He was holding hands with a little brunette girl with green eyes. The little boy's frown was now a huge smile.

"Teresa?"

Angela grabbed her phone and ran outside to look for her daughter. She called the police to inform them her daughter was missing. Before long, her place was crawling with police and volunteers searching every inch of her property and the adjoining properties. They searched all night and through the morning but no trace of her daughter was found.

Angela was devastated and stayed locked in her bedroom for days. She told the police about the little boy and they promised her they would look around the neighborhoods for a little boy named Kevin with the description she had given her. Her parents drove down from upstate to console their daughter. She told them the unbelievable story of Kevin and showed them his drawings.

"That house burned up years ago. The walls are still standing but it wasn't worth fixing. We put the land on the market but no one has bought it yet. What does this thirty nine mean?" Angela's dad asked.

"I don't know. Dad, can you take me to see the house. I believe Kevin wanted me to go there. Maybe I can find some answers."

"Sure, I'll take you."

They drove a short distance to Angela's old neighborhood. Soon they were driving down an old familiar dirt road. They rounded a corner and saw what remained of the old house. Most of the walls were still standing, but the roof was completely burned away. The walls and interior were black from the fire. The yard was in desperate need of mowing and landscaping.

Angela got out of the car and made her way to the entrance where the door once stood. She stepped inside, cautiously walking through the rubble. She recalled how the house looked before the fire. She walked pass the dinning room where she ate so many dinners with her parents and down the hall whose walls were once adorned with family pictures. She made her way to her old bedroom and walked inside. A remnant of her bed still remained as well as a few half- melted, weather-worn, stuffed animals.

The edge of a box, hiding under debris beneath the bed, caught Angela's eye. She knelt down and uncovered the box. She recognized it as her old jewelry box. It was charred from the fire but remained intact. She opened it. It contained a few old photos of her parents, her class ring, a ticket stub from the senior prom, and her diary. She had completely forgotten about her diary she had kept her last year of high school.

She began thumbing through it, reading a few passages about dates she went on, having her first drink of alcohol, attending prom with her boyfriend, Scott. She grinned as she reminisced about her adolescent years until she came to page thirty nine. As she began reading it, her heart beat inside her chest and her hand trembled so hard, she could barely read the words.

June 15, 2002



Today, I made the hardest decision of my life. My mom and I drove to the clinic where I had the operation. The doctor said everything turned out good, but I fill empty inside. I'm still not sure if I made the right decision. My mom said I did, but I'm not so sure. After I first found out, I played with the idea of keeping him. I was going to name him Kevin.