Matt McPhee

Maisel’s Neighbourhood Watch Log: September 17^th, 2023 – 1:30 PM – Outside of Murlocke’s House

The three of us sat down on the steps outside of Murlocke’s house. The butterflies continued to fly past us in a frenzy. I thought that they were moving quicker than before, but it was hard to tell.

I could feel my chest tightening the longer we continued to discuss going to the forest.

I motioned to the butterflies. They were now flying past us so quickly that they resembled something more like an avalanche or a tusami. No, a tsumini. Never mind, a big wave. Just as I was gesturing at the butterflies, a kid, Dommy, cartwheeled through the air, pulled along by the flow of the bugs.

Dommy disappeared into the mass of butterflies. Okay, so they were definitely moving faster than before.

I glanced between the two of them. I felt cornered. I hated feeling like I was being ganged up on. Why were they pushing so hard to go back to that… place? Don’t they hate it as much as I do? They were Pocket’s friends. How can they even consider returning to the place where he disappeared? There has to be another solution. There’s always another option…

I needed a minute to think and to be alone, so I turned around and started running.

* * *

I was eight and hiding in our basement, tucked between the shelves of dusty cans and musty jars. I had done something bad, and soon my parents would find out, and once they did, they would never forgive me. I knew I should do something, anything, but I felt trapped. I couldn’t seem to think of anything that would get me out of this, so I waited.

I kept replaying the moment in my head. I was trying to get my bike out of the garage, but didn’t realize how tight it was. My parents had just bought the car. They even took Pocket outside to explain to him that we had to be super, duper, extra careful around it. Now, just over a week later, I had already ruined it.

I heard the door creak open and knew that this was it. I squeezed my eyes shut. Some truly terrible punishment awaited me; they would ground me for life, or take away my books, or put me in piano lessons. When I opened my eyes, I didn’t see anybody. Then, quietly, I felt a small hand curl into mind and looked over to see Pocket sit down beside me. He looked terrified. His eyes were so wide they seemed to take up half his face.

He nodded.

We sat like that for a moment in silence.

I squeezed his hand softly.

He squeezed my hand back. We sat like that for a long time.

* * *

I pushed through the storm of butterflies; it felt like walking through a blizzard. They were soaring past me, blending into a blur of teal. I held my hands up to block any of them from flying into my face.

I heard leaves crunching under my feet and looked down to see that I was in the small patch of woods near my house. I kept pushing, I was almost there…

I was looking for a small wooden shed. We thought that it might have been a park ranger’s, although we had never seen anyone go in it. It was tiny, only big enough to hold some gardening tools, a lawnmower, and several bottles with little skull-and-crossbones stickers.

The ground under me began to slope slightly, which meant that I was getting close. It would only be a few more steps. Suddenly, my hands brushed up against the rough wooden planks that made up the walls of the shed. I felt around the outside until I found the rickety door handle.

I threw it open and bolted inside, slamming the door shut behind me. I wanted to get away from those insects.

It was pitch-black inside, but at least there were no butterflies. The wind howled and rattled the shed walls, as butterflies whipped past outside. It really did sound like a snowstorm was raging.

I didn’t linger; I quickly began searching the floor for a small metal handle shaped like a heart. It didn’t take long to find. I yanked on, and an old trapdoor swung open, unleashing the sweet dusty smell of the basement. It reminded me of Pocket.

I climbed down the ladder and was finally in the clubhouse.

I was safe.

– Maisel