Sara's Street

The cat stopped again to lie down lazily on the dirt road. With her lamp like eyes reflecting the moonlight, she glared knowingly at her stalker, her tail twitching from side to side. Abel stopped too, not wanting to get too close to the longhaired ginger cat. This was the umpteenth time his cat had stopped, turned in circles, and laid down heavily into the dry dirt. He was ready to give up for the night and cuddle into the comfort of his bed. As always, though, curiosity got the better of the boy, and he stooped low beside the fence post where another pair of eyes was watching him. He swatted Annabelle away as she reached through the fence and tried to wrap her sandpaper like tongue around a lock of his scruffy straw colored hair. The calf mooed a throaty moo before lying down herself.
         Just as Abel’s legs began tingling from having stayed in an awkward position for too long, the cat got up and started once again down the road towards town. It wasn’t long before they were walking on a cobblestone street towered by houses and buildings. There were seldom people out this late at night. He avoided eye contact with those that were, as they looked him up and down for any possessions worth stealing. The boy was thankful when the cat turned a corner and headed away from courtyard where a small group of homeless people sat around an old fountain.
         Left, right, right, left, and right again. He jogged behind the cat through dark alleyways, crawled through a couple fences, treaded carelessly on a few flowers, and ran up and down a flight of stairs. Abel was panting for breath when the cat turned a corner and entered a street that the boy was a little hesitant to step onto. There were large and extravagant houses on either side, each with their own yard. The boy watched the cat until she was nearly on the other end before taking his first step onto the aristocratic street. Immediately he became self aware of his stained rag of a shirt and his patched up pants that only came down just above his ankles and of his too old shoes that didn’t fully cover his dirty little toes. Someone as dirty as him didn’t belong on a street as refined as this.
         He continued after the cat, looking left and right at the many dark windows that peered down at him like empty eyes. Abel noticed a soft glow at the end of the street where the cat had turned the corner. He looked up at a two-story house with its ivy-overwhelmed balcony. The only light on the street came from two side windows and a large double glass door in between. Despite the chilly spring breeze, the windows were open and the ghostly curtains swayed in and out as though they were inhaling and exhaling like a sleeping child. Abel tore his eyes from the windows, and proceeded to follow the cat that was now out of sight. He caught a glimpse of her ginger tail just as he rounded the corner. She crawled through a bush and under an old house’s porch.          Soft mewling came from underneath as Abel slid onto his stomach and elbowed closer. Again a pair of lamp like eyes watched him suspiciously. It was too dark to see, but the loud and numerous mews told him that he had found, at last, where his cat hid her litter. He crawled back out from underneath, not daring to go any closer, knowing full well that a mother is always protective of her children. Having successfully fed his curiosity, he began to realize how tired he was.  Slowly he headed back home, slightly dragging his feet. He looked over his shoulder to glance once more at the soft glow of the windows before turning the corner.
         “Pa, I found Missy’s kittens!” Abel spoke through a mouthful of eggs, his morning grogginess finally passed. His father ruffled his blond curls with a massive and rough hand and replied with an incoherent grunt. “I didn’t see how many; they’re under a porch. Can we get ‘em out, Pa?” Abel waited for an answer as he shoveled down a few more forkfuls of scrambled eggs. His father shook a head of graying hair and watched the boy sternly with strong yet tired eyes.
         “No, just leave them be. They’ll come out when they’re ready.” Abel pouted a little but knew better than to argue. After breakfast, he hurriedly started on his before-school chores. First he put out a bale of hay for the cows and Mabel, their horse, and watered their trough, then fed the chickens and gathered their plentiful brown eggs. After changing into his school clothes, he ran all the way to the small school building where he was learning to read and write and work arithmetic. When he got home after school, he would do his evening chores and eat dinner and after that, it was homework and bed.
         That night, however, he snuck out of the house once again. Missy had already gone back to her kittens, returning home only to eat. It wasn’t long before he was at the street with extravagant houses on either side. It was as though nothing had changed. There was no sign of life except for the windows that were again open and lighted. He paused to look up at them as the curtains fluttered in the breeze. This time, though, there was a girl looking down at him. His face heated up at being caught wandering on their too neat street. Abel was just about to run around the corner when a voice spoke out to him.
         “What are you doing out so late at night? I saw you last night too.” He was glad for the darkness for his face burned redder. Abel was debating whether or not to run when the girl stepped out onto the balcony. “Well?” His brow knitted together; he did not like the condescending tone of the girl, especially considering she couldn’t be much older than him.
         “What’s it to you?” He retorted rather rudely.
         “It’s not normal for a little boy to be up so late.”
         “I’m not a little boy! I’m ten!” Abel restrained from stomping his foot angrily, knowing it would only confirm the “little boy” remark. The girl emitted a peal of laughter that sounded like wind chimes clinking together in the wind.
         “I’m twelve.” Abel scowled, feeling as though he was being made fun of. He started to walk off, but the girl leaned further on the banister and called out to him again.
         “Wait!” Abel looked over his shoulder, waiting, though he wasn’t sure why. The girl fidgeted a little before leaning over the right side of the banister towards him. “Will you come up for a little bit?” She nodded towards a crisscross fence that traveled the side of the house, intertwined with the ivy. Skeptical now, Able watched her with an expression that clearly read “why?” The girl fidgeted a little more, apparently uncomfortable, before adding, “I have some candy licorice.” This definitely grabbed his attention. He had never had candy licorice before.
         It wasn’t until the girl disappeared into the room, came back with a paper bag, and shook it, that Abel’s inexperienced sweet tooth got the better of him. He slowly climbed the ivy-covered fence and carefully pulled himself over the banister onto the balcony. She smiled brightly and handed him a candy licorice.
         “What’s your name?” Abel watched her suspiciously as he took the candy.
         “Abel.” He could see that the girl was very pale, though she probably looked paler than she really was due to the dark hair that fell over her small shoulders.
         “My name is Sara E. Waldemar.” Abel rolled his blue eyes as he took a nibble at the candy licorice. At once he knew he had done the right thing coming up here. It was by far the best thing he had ever tasted. He devoured the rest of his candy while looking around curiously. Sara’s room was probably twice as big as his; it had more stuff, too. It was painted white with pink trim along the floor and ceiling. Her bed looked big enough for two people and was pushed against the left wall with an oak bedside desk to the right of it. Her light pink comforters had been pulled and pushed off the side of the bed and her many soft pillows were scattered about. There were dolls on her bed, on the large chest at the bottom of her bed, and some even on her shelves. She also had a bookshelf full of books and a small box that had jewelry spilling over. Sara E. Waldemar was without a doubt a rich girl.
         “So why are you out so late?” Abel snapped his attention back to Sara. He was offered another candy licorice that he gratefully took. He went into full detail about how his cat had been pregnant for so long until a few weeks ago when she disappeared. He told her how he was the first to realize when the cat had lost weight and how she kept running off again and again. Sara listened as though he was telling an exciting tale as he continued to tell her how he had eventually found her litter of kittens. Her dark eyes widened with excitement.
         “Oh, I want to see them!” Abel shook his head and spoke with a serious face.
         “No, they have to grow up and come out when they’re ready. My Pa told me so.” At once Sara’s face looked as though a candle had gone out. Abel hastily added “But it won’t be long.” At this her smile renewed, and she went on and on about how she loved cats but wasn’t allowed any pets. That came as a real shock to Abel, since he had always lived on a farm and could not comprehend not having any animals around.
         “Pa is letting me keep one. I’ll let you come over and see it whenever you want.” Sara beamed at the offer and handed Abel another candy licorice. After the bag was emptied of its contents, and they talked for what felt like an eternity, Abel decided it was time to head home. He bade her goodnight and promised to come back the next day. That night Abel’s dreams were filled with the candy Sara promised him in turn.
         Abel found his feet carrying him automatically to Sara’s house the second school was let out. He knew he should go home and do his evening chores first, but the memory of last night’s candy licorice quickly pushed the guilt to the side. The first thing he noticed as he turned onto the street was how different it seemed in the daylight. There were people out in their yards tending to small gardens, some sitting at their patio tables having tea in the shade, others walking down the street in their nice clothes. Abel fidgeted, again aware of his poor clothes, and also of his dirt smudged knees that showed through his ripped pants – caused by a rough game of rugby.
         The boy avoided eye contact with those he passed, as he hurriedly headed to Sara’s house. He looked up and was disappointed to find both her windows closed. He was about to pass on by, feeling suspicious eyes on him, when he heard the soft click of a door. His head snapped up, and he was relieved to see Sara waving down at him from the balcony. He waved back just as a woman’s voice demanded for Sara to come back in.
         “Coming Maria!” Sara looked back over at Abel with an apologetic face. “I’ll be down in a minute.” Abel waited outside as patiently as he could, but staring down at his shoes was only so interesting, and he didn’t dare look up for fear of meeting all the eyes he was sure he could feel watching him. It was the sound of another door opening that made him finally look up. This time Sara exited through the front door, with a small paper bag which he suspected held the candy she had promised him.
         Sara led Abel quickly around the corner with only a single word of hello, glancing back every now and then. Abel too looked over his shoulder, wondering just what she was running away from. He was just about to ask when Sara told him to hold out his hand. The question was quickly forgotten when the girl poured a small handful of gummi bears into the palm of his hand.
         “Can I see the kittens? I promise I won’t touch them.” Abel took a minute chewing on one of the gummi bears, overjoyed by its fruity taste, finding it tastier, even, than licorice.
         “Okay, but no touching.” He led the way to the kittens after stuffing the rest of his handful of gummi bears into his mouth. Sara was a little skeptical about getting onto her hands and knees to crawl through the bushes and then even more so about getting onto her stomach to crawl under a house. Abel was actually amazed however, when she followed his suit and crawled to the left of him. It was still pretty dark under the porch, but after a minute their eyes adjusted, and they were able to make out faint outlines of small kittens. Their mewlings were loud and hungry sounding.
         “I wonder what color they are.”
         “Dunno, I wonder if they have their eyes open yet.” Sara turned her head to face Abel questioningly. “Kittens are born with their eyes closed, they don’t open them until a few weeks later. Puppies too.”
         “Oh, I didn’t know that.” Abel was quite proud to know something Sara didn’t. He scooted out backwards and dusted himself off. After a second Sara did the same, though a little reluctantly.
         The two walked down the street with no destination in mind, engrossed in conversation. They talked about little things and big things. How Sara rarely went into town to have fun and how she didn’t have any friends. Abel told her about life on a farm and how boring school was.
         “I would love to go to school.”
         “Really?” Abel scrunched up his nose. “Why? It’s so boring!”
         “Well it can’t be any worse than having tutors come to the house. At least there are other kids to play with.” Sara spoke the truth, Able thought.
         There was a moment of silence before Sara started telling Abel how her father worked at the bank. She wasn’t sure exactly what he did; all she knew was that he worked from early in the morning until late at night except on Sundays. She also told him how her mother spent most of her time gossiping with neighbors at teatime, and how she loved flowers even though Maria did all the gardening. Maria was her maid and nanny.
         “What are your parents like?”
         “My Pa works hard on the farm mostly. But he builds things too. He built our house. We mostly just sell our milk and eggs, and in the summer the sheep’s wool.” Sara waited for Abel to continue, but when he didn’t she watched him and asked: “Your mother?”
         “She died after I was born.” There was another moment of silence before Sara jumped into the next question.
         “Do you miss her? Do you cry?” Abel wrinkled his nose indignantly before retorting.
         “No!” How was he supposed to miss and cry for someone he didn’t even know? But his sad, downcast, blue eyes told Sara otherwise, and she apologized.
         “Are you scared of dying?” Abel looked up, slightly shocked by the question. He had never really thought about it. He looked up at the clear blue sky as he considered the question. No one would want to die, but did that make him afraid?
         “No, I’m not scared. Are you?” He studied Sara carefully. “Yes,” was all she said before running off to the fountain. Abel chased after her. The two each flipped a penny - Abel’s borrowed from Sara - into the water and made a wish.
         After another hour of talking and eating gummi bears, they turned the corner where Sara’s house was located. In her yard stood a very tall and strict looking woman. Her dark hair fell in ringlets over her shoulders and her forehead had permanent worried lines etched into it. Her arms were folded and her face was set in a scowl.
         “Sara Eliza Waldemar! Where have you been? You know you’re not allowed to leave the house alone! And look at you, you’re filthy!” She marched Sara into the house without even glancing at Abel. Sara mouthed a “sorry” before the door closed. Abel stood there in shock for a few minutes before remembering how angry his father would be if he didn’t get done with his chores before dark.
         A week went by and everyday after school Abel would meet Sara on her balcony and tell tales of the day while eating whatever treat she had for him. She was the perfect audience; her eyes would grow big in disbelief and she’d let out a gasp of surprise, or she would lean forward as though worried she might miss something. Sara especially enjoyed the stories about Abel jumping onto the back of a raging bull, and the one about when he bravely saved a rabbit from a large snake by picking it up and swinging it over and yonder. Of course it was no raging bull but his small heifer, Annabelle, and there was no snake but a moldy rope. But Sara didn’t have to know that.
         One Saturday morning after getting done with his chores (which seemed to take longer than they should have), Abel found his feet carrying him automatically to Sara’s house. He was used to the too neat street and aristocratic air; he was used to the consistent gossiping and teatime and the snooty way they turned their noses up at him. As he usually did, he looked left and right down the street to make sure no one was watching before climbing up onto Sara’s balcony. The door was open a crack, and soft murmurs could be heard. Sara was sitting on her bed with a book propped open on her knees.
         “What are you doing?” Abel opened the door a little more, but didn’t step inside. Sara’s head snapped up, her face breaking into a grin. He noticed how she looked even paler now, despite the fact that everything around her was also pale.
         “I’m reading The Little Mermaid, it’s a fantastic fairy tale.”
         “What is it about?” Abel took a seat in the doorway, placing his face in his hands. Sara beamed at the question and closed the book and began to tell the tale in full detail. She told him how the little mermaid lived at the bottom of the ocean with her sea king father and five elder sisters. How when a mermaid reached the age of fifteen they were allowed to visit the surface. That the mermaid couldn’t wait after hearing the tales her sisters shared with her, and when it was her turn she fell in love with a prince who happened to be sailing the sea at that moment. Abel was quickly pulled into the story as she told him, with exaggerated hand gestures, how the ship was thrown into a great storm, how the little mermaid saved the prince from drowning and laid him safely on the shore where a young woman found him.
         Abel’s brow knitted together as Sara told him that the prince had never seen the little mermaid and how he had no idea she had saved his life. The little mermaid found out that humans didn’t live the three hundred years mermaids did, and that they had souls rather than turning to sea foam after death. Abel had steadily gotten closer and closer and was now lying on his stomach on her bed, waiting for what happened next. Sara leaned in and spoke with a soft voice; her eyes wide as she told him how the mermaid traded her tongue to the sea witch for a potion that would give her legs so that she could meet the prince and gain a soul. However, whispered Sara, she would have to get the prince to marry her if she wanted a soul.
         Abel scowled as he learned that the mermaid had danced for the prince even though it felt like walking on a thousand knives. His face grew even darker when Sara told him how the prince had ended up marrying the young woman who found him on the shore, and how the mermaid chose not to stab the prince, but instead to die and turn to sea foam. However, in the end the little mermaid had gotten her soul for doing a good deed.
         “That’s it? I would have stabbed the prince so I could live for three hundred years!” The boy propped himself up on his elbows.
         “Stupid. She loved the prince and would have rather died than kill him.” Sara hugged her book to her chest just as her bedroom door opened. There stood a Hispanic woman with her dark hair tied into a bun in the doorway. She paused at the sight of Abel before her face broke into a wide grin.
         “This must be your little friend, Abel. Sara tells me all about you.” She had a kind voice with an accent Abel had never heard before. The boy nervously sat up and unconsciously began to flatten his curly blond hair. The woman turned out to be Maria, Sara’s maid and nanny. The woman had brought up a tray of small sandwiches and a pitcher of freshly squeezed lemonade. Sara recited more stories she had read from books. There were dragons and valiant knights, ogres and elves; maidens whose hair served as a rope, an unfortunate girl who worked mercilessly for her evil stepmother and sisters; and so much more that Abel was surprised his head didn’t explode.
         The tray was cleaned of sandwiches and the pitcher was emptied of the lemonade as the two lazily sat on the bed with their stomachs full and content. Sara was the first to break the comfortable silence that had fallen over them like a thick blanket.
         “Someday a prince will come and take me away.”
         “Those things only happen in your books.” Sara glared at him warningly. “Will you kiss every toad you see?” Abel tittered at the thought. He had found the story amusing and silly. Abel swallowed the rest of his ticklish laughter at the face he was given. Suddenly something soft and white obscured his view as a pillow slapped him in the face. Sara fell back in uncontrollable laughter. Abel grabbed the pillow and returned the favor.
         “Alright you little terrors. It’s time for your afternoon nap Sara.” Maria left with the empty tray and pitcher, giving Abel time to say goodbye and escape down the ivy-covered fence. Abel rounded the corner and got on all fours to check on the kittens as he always did after meeting with Sara. There were four, he had counted, and they were able to crawl, though a little clumsily. The boy reached out and picked up one of the small and fragile kittens. Its fur didn’t feel like fur at all, it was too soft and reminded him of the soft feathers you would find on a baby chick. The kitten looked at him with one wide eye and one eye partially closed. Shocked and overjoyed the boy pressed the wet nose to his own before replacing the kitten under the house and grabbing another. All of them either had one or both eyes opened now! The boy ran back home with the exciting news.
         Abel stood before Sara’s house, trying to catch the girl’s attention through the open windows without catching anyone else’s. At last she came out onto the balcony to find him standing there holding a basket with something that squirmed underneath the cover. Sara let him in through the front door. Abel stepped through rather hesitantly. This was the first time he was in any part of Sara’s house other than her room. Like the street outside, it was too clean and neat. The rooms were large and filled with antiques and beautiful furniture. There was a sweet fragrance in the air that Abel guessed was from the well cared for flowers that sat on every table and all the chest tops. Sara quickly escorted Abel up the stairs to her room, which he was grateful for. Once in the comfort of the familiar room he set down the basket and pulled off the cover.
         Four upset and adventurous kittens climbed over one another and grabbed at the edge of the basket, determined to get over and venture the new world. Sara let out a small squeal of excitement before grabbing an orange one. Abel picked up a tabby one and held it to his chest where its claws gripped at his shirt in tiny panic.
         “Will you keep this one? Please?” Sara held the kitten to her nose and kissed it on the muzzle fondly.
         “I’ve already got an orange cat.” Abel put the tabby kitten back in the basket and picked up a brown kitten. He had never seen a brown cat before, which was why he was considering keeping it. Sara pouted a little, not too willing to put the orange fluff ball back into the basket when it was time for Abel to leave.
         “I’m going to name her Buttercup.”
         “Now I’m definitely not keeping that one.” The boy wrinkled his nose.
         Sara was leading him to the front door when her mother walked in. She paused at the sight of the dirty boy holding a basket of kittens before yelling at him to get out of her house and going on about how he had left dirty tracks all over the floor. Abel couldn’t remember a time in his short-lived life when his heart ever pulsed as quickly as it did as he raced out of that house. He didn’t stop running until he turned the corner and the house was out of sight. He slowed to a quick and furious walk for the kittens’ sake. He told himself over and over again that he wouldn’t cry. But the second he left town and was walking down the dirt road he felt a single tear fall down his face. After that he was unable to hold back the angry and humiliated sobs.
         That night he asked his Pa why rich and poor people were so different and why they were poor. Pa told him that money didn’t matter when it came to the more important things in life. He had told his only son that even though they didn’t have a lot of money, they were still rich. Abel raised his eyebrows in question. The man laid a rough and worn hand on the boy’s head. “You’ll understand someday.”
         The next day after school, Abel went straight home. He did his evening chores. He stood at the fence and petted Annabelle’s nose while dodging the curling tongue as it tried to wrap around his fingers. He felt the fence groan a little under added weight and knew his father had joined him.
         “Abel, a Mrs. Waldemar came to visit me today.” Abel jerked his head in his father’s direction. He expected his father to be furious, but was shocked to find Pa looking at him with sad eyes. Abel waited, confused, until his father gave him a small hug and even a kiss on the forehead. “It’s nothing.” He walked away without saying anything else. Abel wasn’t sure what that was about, but it worried him. So much that he tossed and turned in his bed that night.
         The next day, instead of heading to school he found himself walking to Sara’s house. He climbed up onto the balcony and looked through the window. Sara laid curled up in bed, a troubled look on her face. On the bedside desk there was a tray of what looked like a bowl of water with a rag in it and a bottle of medicine. Again, Abel was concerned. He rapped on the window very lightly, just loud enough to let her know he was there if she was awake, and quiet enough not to wake her if she wasn’t.
         He was about to leave when Sara stirred and opened her eyes. She saw Abel and pulled off the covers to open the door for him. She smiled at him, a little weakly.
         “I thought you wouldn’t come.” Abel apologized for not coming yesterday. Again he noticed how unnaturally pale the girl was. He also noticed how frail she looked. He was sure she would break easily - like a twig - if anyone tried. Sara took his hand in hers and watched him with the most pleading look. “Will you take me to the farm? I want to see it.” The boy was unsure about this. It was obvious she wasn’t well and she wasn’t allowed to leave the house without an adult.
         “Okay.” Sara beamed and went to change out of her gown, leaving him to wait outside. He had climbed down the ivy-covered fence, refusing to ever set foot in that house again. Within a few minutes, Sara was coming through the front door quietly. She had something rectangular covered in cloth in her arms.
         “What is that?”
         “Nothing.” Abel didn’t pester any further as he showed her the way to his farm. The walk was heavy and silent. Something was definitely wrong, decided Abel. Sara wasn’t her usual cheerful and carefree self. Abel gave her quick and worried glances every now and then. When they finally reached the farm, he was glad to find that Sara returned to her normal self for the most part. She was still a little sluggish and looked tired, but she still bore a smile, even if it didn’t completely reach her eyes.
         Abel showed her Annabelle and she watched as he played tag with the calf, him chasing Annabelle first, and then running away as the calf chased him in turn. Sara nearly doubled over in laughter when Abel slipped and landed in what he hoped was mud. The calf licked at his face with her long, rough tongue. After he let Sara pet the calf’s head (a little nervously), he showed her the hen house. She pinched her nose and refused to reach under one of the hens for an egg, but she enjoyed the soft clucking and the feel of a white feather he had given her. Next were the sheep. Sara had giggled at the tailless and long nosed creatures. They weren’t as cute as she had thought they would be. The two lambs that she held were, however, adorable. She was in awe of how soft their wool felt and how her fingers seemed to sink into it. Abel laughed when one bleated a little too close to Sara and caused her to jump back.
         After chasing the ducks and listening to the pigs snort, the two sat down in a patch of grass with the four kittens and talked like they always did. Abel asked her to tell him another story and she did.
         She told him a story about a rich merchant who became poor and had to live in the country with his three daughters. One day he found out that one of his ships had sailed into town. He asked his three daughters what they would like from town; two wanted jewelry and extravagant dresses. Belle however, only wanted a rose. Returning home, the merchant became lost in the woods. He came across a castle and ate the food that was put out next to a note that said “eat” and drank the wine next to the note that said “drink.” He was about to leave when he saw a beautiful rose garden. He picked one for Belle, already feeling bad he wasn’t able to get his two other daughters what they wanted. An ugly beast caught him stealing the rose, and made him promise to send his daughter to live at the castle in payment.
         Abel leaned forward, a small kitten in his lap left forgotten, waiting as Sara paused for breath. She continued after a second, telling him how Belle went to the castle. She told him how the Beast was kind and fair to her. He fed her delicious feasts and gave her lavish clothes. But the girl was homesick and begged to go visit her father. The Beast agreed, but said she must return in exactly one week.
         When Belle reached home, her sisters were jealous that she was well fed and had beautiful clothes. After the week was over, they begged Belle to stay for another day. Unable to say no, the girl agreed to stay for one day more.
         When Belle returned a day late, she found the Beast dying in the garden from a broken heart, and when her tears fell onto the beast, he suddenly turned into a handsome prince. The prince explained to Belle that long ago a fairy had turned him into an ugly beast when he wouldn’t let her in his castle; that only true love could break the spell.
         Abel and Sara were lying in the grass, staring up at the cloudy sky. They laid in silence for the longest time. Abel continued to mull over the story he had just been told. It wasn’t until a soft pad of a foot pressed onto his cheek and a small tongue licked at his nose that he came out of his stupor. He grabbed the brown kitten by the scruff of the neck before sitting up. Sara sat up too, still holding onto the orange kitten.
         Sara said her goodbye to the farm and its many inhabitants before walking alongside Abel back to her house. The walk was heavy with silence again. It seemed almost suffocating. Abel was glad when they had reached the house at last. He stood there and was about to say bye and leave when Sara did something totally unexpected. She leaned in and planted a quick kiss on his cheek. He stood there frozen for a moment, trying to register what had just happened. When it finally did register, he swiped the back of his hand across his cheek with a disgusted wrinkle of his nose.
         “Yuck! That’s gross!” Sara only laughed and waved a goodbye before running inside the house. Abel stood there for a few moments longer, still a little stunned. He couldn’t remember the walk home or even doing his evening chores. All he could remember was the faint tingle on his left cheek. He was in a daze for the rest of the day and went to bed in a daze.
         Early the next morning, Abel sat straight up in bed, tossing his cover onto the floor. He jumped out of bed, pulled on the first thing he could find, and yanked on his shoes before running out. His heart was thumping a fast tattoo inside his chest as he ran all the way down the dirt road and into town. He didn’t stop until he reached Sara’s street. He stood there panting, looking for anything different about the house. Yesterday, Sara had been acting so strange. He suddenly had to know if she was okay. He took tentative steps forward and looked up into the closed windows. His heart suddenly felt heavy. Abel hated it when she had her windows closed.
         He climbed up slowly onto the balcony. Pressing his nose and hands onto the windowpane, he peered through the curtains and was even more worried when he did not find the girl sleeping in her bed. He turned the knob of the door and was surprised to find it unlocked. He pushed open the door to find Maria sitting in a chair in the corner. She looked up at the noise. Her eyes were swollen and red, and immediately began to tear up again at the sight of Abel. This didn’t at all help Abel’s erratic heartbeat as he took a step inside.
         “Where’s Sara?” His voice sounded foreign in his ears, it was small and wavering. Maria let out a small cry before getting up and hugging the ten year old boy. His eyes grew wide and he shook his head. Somehow he knew, even though he wouldn’t accept it.
         “I’m so sorry…” She repeated these words again and again. After a minute of soaking Abel’s shoulder in tears she pulled back and placed kind hands on his face. He continued to stare ahead in shock.
         “Sara… passed away last night.” Her voice cracked. Abel took a quick step back, away from the hands as though they had burned him. Abel shook his head, saying no. He didn’t believe her. He pushed past the Hispanic woman and out of Sara’s room. He ran downstairs, calling out for Sara, waiting for her to reply. He ran as quickly as his feet would carry him into every room he could find, still calling out for Sara. He stopped short at the sight of Sara’s mother and a tall balding man he would have assumed was her father had he not been in the state he was in.
         “Where’s Sara?” He repeated. Tears stung at his eyes as he saw the woman look at him with such sadness, her own eyes welling with tears. The man pulled Sara’s mother into a hug and laid her face onto his shoulder before shaking his head to Abel.
         “You’re lying!” screamed Abel. He ran out the front door and slammed it shut. He assured himself over and over again that Sara wasn’t dead. He told himself that she had snuck out of the house and was somewhere in town. Abel ran for what felt like hours, running everywhere he could think that Sara would go. Finally he found himself heading back to his farm, expecting to see Sara’s smiling face. He called out her name hoarsely and when no call answered back, he stumbled into the house.
         Able looked up at his Pa who had come to see what all the yelling was about. He saw the boy’s bloodshot eyes and stream of tears still running down his cheeks, the snotty nose and slight bounce of the body indicating he had the hiccups. Understanding all too well, the man wrapped his arms around his son and kissed his head. Telling him how sorry he was. The boy shook in his Pa’s arms, still shaking his head.
         “She’s hiding! Sara is still alive! We have to find her!” Abel’s Pa pushed him to arms length and shook his head grimly.
         “I’m so sorry Abel. She isn’t coming back. She was very sick and there was nothing anyone could do.” The boy shook his head, shaking it more furiously with every word. Finally he pushed away from his father and screamed at him, yelling that it wasn’t fair, that she didn’t deserve to die. He was yelling and even throwing objects across the room. Abel became even angrier when his Pa didn’t try to stop him. The boy turned and slammed out of the house and ran to Annabelle’s pasture. Having exhausted his body, he dropped down and buried his face into his knees.
         Even though it was like adding salt to an open wound, he recounted all the times he and Sara had spent together. He thought of all the tales they exchanged and how she had bribed him with candy. Abel let out another strangled sob as he told no one in particular that he would trade a life supply of candy for Sara to come back. He waited in silence, as if expecting the heavens to reply to his wish.
         How long he sat there he didn’t know. Finally, with no tears left to shed, he looked up from the darkness of his knees. He squinted his red eyes, the light adding pressure to his already pounding head. Annabelle mooed softly and Abel looked to his right. There hidden in the grass by the corner post of the calf’s pen laid something rectangular and wrapped in cloth. There was also a small paper bag bulging, he knew, with candy. His eyes burned again as he picked the objects up. He pulled off the cloth to find in his hands Sara’s book of fairy tales. His heart suddenly felt too big for his chest as he hugged the book tightly to his torso. After holding his breath, trying to swallow down another sob, Abel opened the book. Inside the cover were the words “Thank you” and the signature of “Sara E. Waldemar” in neat handwriting.
         A tear managed to fall down his cheek and onto the book. He quickly wiped it away, not wanting to tarnish it in any way. Abel peeked inside the bag next, smiling ever so weakly at the many varieties of candy. He hadn’t an appetite to eat any, though. Abel was wiping his eyes dry when a soft mewl caught his attention. An orange kitten placed her forepaws onto his legs. Abel picked up the small kitten and held her close.
         “Hello, Buttercup.”