August 21st, 2020

Fall 1989
              Loud knocks rang through the neglected drywall of the small prefab house. And with every knock, five year old Chloe shrunk further into the corners of the kitchen pantry. She hugged her knees to her chest, hoping whoever was knocking would go away. Whatever you do, don’t open the door Chloe. It was the main rule when Mommy and Daddy went away. If she broke it, that would mean she was a very, very bad girl. And if she was a bad girl, Mommy and Daddy might never come home.
              Chloe’s stomach grumbled loudly, and she hugged her knees even tighter. She poked an empty box of pop-tarts with her toe, wishing there was something inside. Mommy and Daddy usually came home before the food ran out. But not this time.
              Chloe’s entire body flinched at the sound of splintering wood. She pressed her hands to her ears and folded her head into her knees. Tears squeezed out of the corners of her eyes as she closed them tight. Through the roaring, rushing sound in her head, she heard a deep voice. Then she felt a light touch on her arm. She yelped, recoiling from the touch. Cautiously, she opened her amber eyes to see two men in dark blue uniforms. Police officers. She had learned about them in pre-school. The three days she had actually gone.
              “My teacher said you help people,” Chloe whispered, her voice rough from dis-use. Hesitantly she lowered her hands from her ears.
              The older of the two, with gray peppering his hair, smiled gently at her. “That’s right. We’re here to help. What’s your name?”
              “C-Chloe.”
              The younger officer examined the empty cereal and cracker boxes littering the shelves. “Good God, how long do you suppose she’s been here?”
              The man crouched in front of Chloe ignored the question, focusing instead on the child. “How old are you, Chloe?”
              “I’ll be five soon. Mommy said it would be my birthday when she got back. When will Mommy and Daddy be back?”
              The officers exchanged a look. The older one turned back to Chloe and extended his hand. “Come with me, little girl. I’ll help you.” Chloe eyed his hand suspiciously, and he added, “I’ll get you some food.”
              Chloe’s stomach growled loudly at the offer, and she tentatively put her small hand in the large, calloused one. Chloe, five years old for all of two days, had already lived enough to know the truth. Mommy and Daddy were never coming back.
Fall 1999
              Light spilled from the windows and doors of the high school gymnasium and pop music thumped, reverberating off the concrete walls. Micah Barrett stumbled down the steps, his girlfriend Rachel hanging on his arm, stumbling herself. Her laugh was too loud, her smile too bright.  His friend Isaac followed along, stumbling, dragging his date Hannah behind him.
              “I don’t know what you punks think,” Micah shouted, turning around too quickly and almost face-planting in the grass. Rachel attempted to steady him, swaying on her high heels. “But this homecoming dance is preee-ty lame.”
              “Yeah,” Rachel breathed, giggling into his neck, “I wanna private party.”
              Micah turned and kissed her soundly and sloppily on the mouth. When he pulled away, he pulled his keys from his pocket and waved them in the air. “My girl wants a private party? To Founders’ Park! Who’s with me?”
              “You can’t drive, Micah!” Hannah argued, attempting to extract herself from Isaac’s arms. “You’re drunk!”
              “I can hold my liquor!” Micah shouted at her. He hadn’t meant to shout, necessarily, he just couldn’t seem to control the volume of his voice at the moment.
              “Come on, Hannah,” Isaac chuckled as he continued to paw her, “don’t be such a goody-goody. You’ve been swooning over me for months, and I finally ask you out. Don’t you want a private party?”
              “You’re drunk, too!” Hannah shouted, slapping him across the face.
              Isaac narrowed his eyes, and Micah fell silent. Only Rachel still giggled beside him. Isaac was an angry drunk.
              “You know you want me, Hannah,” Isaac growled, crushing her to him.
Hannah turned her face away as he tried to kiss her, landing his lips on her neck instead. When Isaac didn’t pull away, she began to struggle in his grasp, shoving on his chest.
              “Let go of me!”
              There were only a few things in this world that Micah Barrett wouldn’t tolerate, and a guy forcing himself on a girl was one of them. He stumbled out of Rachel’s grasp, intent on pulling Isaac off his date.  But, funny, the ground seemed to be going uphill all of a sudden, and he couldn’t quite put one foot in front of the other. Luckily for Hannah, someone had followed them outside.
               “She said let go!” a voice thundered, and then Beau Rockport was hauling Isaac off the ground by the back of his shirt.
              Micah was relieved. He, Hannah, and Beau had been friends since they were kids. Beau had been pining for Hannah for almost as long, and Micah knew he would die before he let anyone hurt her.
            Isaac shoved Beau, stumbling backwards in the process. Once Isaac righted himself, he waved his arm in a dismissive gesture towards Hannah. “Fine, whatever. She’s locked together at the knees anyway.”
         Rachel thought this was incredibly funny, and dissolved into a fit of giggles. Beau didn’t laugh. He pulled back his fist and punched Isaac in the face. When Isaac scrambled to his feet, Micah stumbled forward to intervene.
         “Let it go, Isaac,” Micah slurred, “we were havin’ fun, right? Let’s get out of here, ‘kay?”
       “Micah, no,” pleaded Hannah, grabbing at his elbow, “you’re too drunk, please, just come back inside.”
           Micah shrugged out of Hannah’s grasp. “I said I’m fine.”
        Micah slung his arm across Rachel’s shoulder and they headed towards his car. Hannah grabbed her friend by the hand.
            “Rachel, please, I’m begging you, don’t go with them.” Hannah was crying now.
          Rachel pulled her hand away. “I wanna live while I’m young, Hannah! You worry too much.”
          With a whoop, Rachel tossed the wrap of her semi-formal dress in the air and leapt onto Micah’s back. Micah ran with her to his car. Once inside, Rachel ignored the seatbelt, choosing instead to sit almost in his lap. Isaac flung himself into the backseat and opened another beer. Rachel kissed Micah along his jaw line while working the buttons of his shirt. Micah revved the engine, thinking he couldn’t get to the city park fast enough, and they peeled out of the parking lot, tires squealing.
            For the rest of his life, Micah Barrett would re-live that moment thousands of times. In his mind, every time he made a different decision. Unfortunately, some decisions could never be undone.

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