• The Concert

    The valley was cold and had been newly sprinkled with fresh snow. The air was as if the storm was about to bring another heaping snowfall to cover the trees and lakes. In the distance a tree shrugged off its load of snow, an owl caught another mouse and I woke in my tree home.

    The fire had died down to a slow, soft glow. As my consciousness flooded back, I briefly thought of my mother, shrugging the thought away, I leaned up and dressed. I put more wood on the fire to warm the small tree cavity that I called home and to cook my breakfast. I grabbed some acorn flour and brought some snow in from outside. I melted the snow and mixed it into the acorn flour producing a runny pancake like solution. While that was cooking on my old, beat-up frying pan, I looked around my small home and inspected all my tools and books. My spear and bow were in top condition and my school books were neatly propped up against my desk. I sat at my tiny, homemade wooden table and ate my breakfast. When I had finished, I cleaned off the plate and pan and packed my school bag. I grabbed my homemade bracelets and key chains that I intended to sell at a local thrift shop, and packed them neatly into an old fishing tackle box. I went out of my house and started off to school, crossing into the outskirts of town I met up with my best friend Evan.

    He had long shaggy dyed-black hair and wore semi-tight jeans with a black studded belt and a t-shirt that had “FCUK” printed upon it. He was gorgeous, but alas, we were only friends. We walked to school everyday early, so I could shower in the gym showers. While I showered he would either wait outside the change-room and play video games on his PSP or go to library to finish up his homework. He didn’t know where I lived because I never let him go past the highway, but he knew that I couldn’t have showers there, so he waited everyday.

    We made our way through the snow, me with one ear-bud blurting strange sounds into my ear, Evan with the other ear-bud in his ear, his arms waving around and his body sporadically twitching and convulsing to the beat of the sounds. His body moved with the fast paced sounds, that he called “scream-o music”. To me it didn’t matter what was in my ear because my favorite part of the day was in the morning watching him dance to the music.

    We approached the school’s yard and I took out my ear-bud, swung around and told him to catch me if he could. I ran from him, stumbling in the snow. He caught up with me and tackled me to the ground. I was breathing heavily now, mostly because I was running, but partly because my heart felt like it was going to burst out of my chest. I must have been flushed because he got off my and asked if he had knocked the wind out of me or something. I smiled and shook my head, he then helped me up. We walked the rest of the way to school in an awkward silence. We went inside I proceeded to the girl’s change-room and he told me he had to go to the library to finish his homework.

    I changed and got into the shower thinking of Evan. We had known each other since grade nine, but back then we were careless and often spent the nights wandering the streets talking about silly things. Evan had changed since then, he had grown, became more charming and had found his “music.” He told me that one day he would take me to a concert. I didn’t really know what to expect from one of those, since I
    didn’t really understand the concept of music, but when I imagined one, I saw flashing lights and loud music and lots more people dancing around like Evan.

    As I turned the shower taps, my thoughts drifted back to that night, when my mother went out and never came back. I was left alone then and when I couldn’t pay the rent I was evicted. At the age of thirteen, I was on the streets fending for myself. I stumbled into the woods one night, just before the start of school and found the hole under the tree that I know call home. I learned how to survive off the land through the school’s library books.

    I stepped out of the shower stall and re-dressed. I grabbed my bag and stopped off at my locker to put my books away. Evan came around the corner, dancing as usual, and walked over to where I was. He walked me to class and the bell rang.

    As he walked off, I shouted, “So when are we going to go to the concert?”

    “Anytime!” He shouted back.

    I went through my classes like usual, he walked me from class to class and we hung out at lunch, all as usual. At the end of the day, as he walked me out to the highway, I brought up the concert again.

    “Can we go tonight?” I asked.

    “Not tonight,” He said, “But maybe next week, like on Friday maybe?”

    “Friday’s fine with me.” I answered.

    I went through the rest of the day imagining the concert. I took my bracelets to the thrift shop and picked up the money from last week’s supply. I had earned thirty dollars; enough to keep me well looked after for three months, since I don’t need to buy much.

    The week’s wait was excruciating, I couldn’t stop thinking about the concert. After school on Friday, Evan and I again walked out to the highway, but this time he paused and turned to me. Bent down and took out two small, rectangle pieces of paper.

    “I got the concert tickets. Wanna come with me?” He asked inquisitively. His face showed me that he was afraid I’d say no.

    “Yes.” I responded.

    “Ok, only if you show me your house.”

    I hesitantly said “yes” and we crossed the road, my heart again pounding as if it was going to explode. I had never shown anyone my home before and was nervous that he might tell someone and I would be taken away or that he wouldn’t understand why I would live there. We began to walk into the woods; he was stumbling clumsily in the snow and heavy underbrush. We reached a frozen-over stream and he slipped, falling on his arm with a “thud”. I helped him up being careful not to touch his arm. We
    started to walk again this time slower and we were cold by the time we got to the tree. I came to the barely visible door, unlocked it and slipped through the small opening. He slipped through after, looking slightly stunned.

    “You live here by yourself?” He half-asked half-stated.

    “Yes.” I responded.

    He thought for a moment and then looked at me intently, moved toward me and kissed me softly on the lips and said, “Let’s go to the concert.”