by Rosa Sophia
Despite packing Julie’s letter in her duffel bag, Kat would never find it again. She had no idea it was back in the box in the attic, as though someone had reached into her bag, pulled it out and taken it back, like a picture from an album that had somehow become misplaced. Kat’s clothes were still in the box as well. She hadn’t cared to take them with her, since they were too moth-eaten to wear.
If one had known what they were looking for, a person would have gazed up from a certain corner in the attic and seen a small box in the rafters. The label read:
John and David’s Treasure Box.
It would have been meaningless to most. There wasn’t much inside, just a few old rocks and pieces of glass from everyday treasure hunts in the woods. But on the very bottom of the box, covered with dirt and pieces of broken pottery, was a drawing. On the yellowed paper, there were two people holding hands by a creek. Morbidly, there was a severed sheep’s head in the water. On the bottom of the paper, a child’s hand had scrawled out a few words.
I love you forever.
From, David.
***
On the way to Nevada, Kat thought about the nice going-away party Corry had thrown for them. They had a good time, but she was glad to leave. During their journey, they stopped at a mall in Grand Island, Nebraska. They got some food for the road, and Kat bought a postcard. She addressed it to her mother and wrote a short letter on the back while she, Jake, and Frank sat on a bench outside the mall. Frank dozed for a moment, dark sunglasses resting over his eyes.
“Are you two ready?” Jake picked up the bag of provisions and turned toward the parking lot.
“Sure.” Kat clutched a bumper sticker in her hand. She’d just bought it in the mall. As they headed toward the car, they walked slowly so Frank could keep up.
“It’s a beautiful day,” Frank said. “I’m not bothering you two, am I? Following you across the country, I mean.”
“When are you going to stop asking us that?” Jake laughed. “You’re not a bother at all, I promise.”
“If you say so.” The old man shrugged, admitting a moment later that he felt like an escaped convict. It was the first time in a very long time that he’d been away from Pennsylvania.
Katherine slapped her newly purchased sticker onto the back bumper, but neither of her companions had bothered to read it.
“What’d you get?” Jake was already in the driver’s seat. Kat slammed the car door, a solemn look on her face.
“Don’t worry about it. Frank, this is for you.” She pulled a small pack out of her jacket pocket and handed it to Frank, who was sitting in the front passenger seat. She pulled on her seatbelt as they backed out of the parking spot.
“Braille playing cards,” he exclaimed happily. “Thank you, Katherine.”
“Anytime. We can play when we stop at a motel.”
“So, are you going to tell us what that bumper sticker says?” Jake asked.
“You’ll see when we stop again,” Kat told him.
For a little while, the three of them talked, pointing out old farms and dilapidated buildings. They saw five children selling corn on the side of a road, all of them perched on the seat of a four-wheeler. Kat let her mind drift.
On the back of the car, there was a slightly lopsided rainbow sticker. In large, white letters, it said, Straight Supporter.
It was the least she could do for John, and for her father.
She still felt guilty about failing to save John’s life. And perhaps that was why, instead of dreaming of Julie, she dreamt of her uncle’s death. He had died thousands of times in her mind. She knew she wouldn’t be able to continue enduring the PTSD without medication. Her heart and her soul had been torn into pieces. But she knew—no matter what had happened—that she could be whole again.
About the Author
Rosa Sophia is a novelist and full-time editorial consultant. With a degree in Automotive Technology, she adores writing and editing as well as fixing cars. Rosa is also a crazy cat lady in training, and currently divides her time between South Florida and Pennsylvania.
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