My voice grew hoarse after a couple of minutes of screaming. My arms tired as I waved my hands desperately in front of their faces, but to no avail. The squeals of the bus tires tore me away from them. Maybe they were doing this to get me on the bus? I don’t see why they would. But if this was all some prank, I don’t know how they’ve continued to keep the act up this long. I decided to head over to the bus stop; my parents would be furious if I missed it on my first day.
I glanced back at them when I was at the gate, their bodies shaking as though their lives depended on it. I shook my head and joined the cluster of kids standing at the stop. I wiped a few stray tears from my face and was the last kid on the bus. I claimed the first seat on the bus and shoved myself to the window, the metal of the bus cooling my hot skin.
“You okay?” I jerked my head to my right. A boy with jet black hair that stood up in a million different directions asked. He gave a small smile when I nodded. Though we both knew I wasn’t. He sensed my unwillingness to talk and left me alone.
The rest of the day was a blur. The only few instances I remember were the times I was forced to introduce myself to each of my classes, an abysmal lunch, and the bus ride home. My thoughts were consumed by my parents, so I counted down the minutes until I could see them, though hopefully this time they weren’t shaking like lunatics.
I threw myself off the bus and sprinted to the neighborhood gate. My heart sank upon noticing their sunburnt faces as their limbs continued to spasm. I walked up to them, though the other kids in my neighborhood walked right past them, as though they didn’t see them in the first place.
“Wait till five o’clock, they’ll be done then.” The kid from the bus yelled. What does that mean?
Sweat seeped through both of their work clothes, and I used my sleeve to wipe some of the sweat beads away from their eyes. Nearly fifteen minutes passed, and they weren’t going to budge, so I decided to head inside. The hot September day made me sweat buckets in the short time I was outside. I don’t know how they stood outside all day like this.
I plopped down on the couch and put on a mindless movie. I must’ve dozed off because my parents shook me awake. “Rough day at school?” My mom asked, a slight smile on her face.
How are they even able to move after that? I expected them to be crawling back, barely able to move. But they seem fine? Their sunburns evaporated and while their clothes had some spots of sweat, they appeared normal.
“What’s going on?” I asked, my voice thick with sleep.
“You fell asleep for a bit. You were out. How was your day, Anthony?” She asked, a hopeful smile on her face.
“It was… okay.” I replied, and I could tell she wanted me to say more. She nodded, and less than an hour later, the three of us sat at the kitchen table, eating spaghetti.
Forks scraped the plates for several minutes before my dad spoke up. “So how do you like the house, the neighborhood?” Dad asked, a proud smile on his face.
“I don’t like it.” I replied, not sugarcoating it.
His head tilted to the side. “Why do you say that?”
“You and Mom haven’t left the neighborhood in days; it’s so boring here. No one does anything.” I replied.
My parents looked at one another, confusion wove onto their faces. My mom grabbed my hand softly, “Honey, what are you talking about? We were unpacking, and we went to work today.”
I shook my head. “No, you didn’t. You and Dad stood at the edge of the neighborhood gate for hours today.” My mom slowly withdrew her hand from mine. Looking stumped.
My father grew angry with me at this and said, “I don’t want to hear any more of this nonsense. Go to your room.”
I tried to argue, but it was futile. My stomach rumbled as I lay on my bed. A knock on the door tore me away from thinking about this morning. I opened the door and smiled at the small plate of cookies and milk placed on the carpet. I looked to the side, and my mom rounded the corner, a grin on her face. Did she believe me? Or did she hear my rumbling stomach and feel bad for me? Regardless, I munched down the cookies.
The next morning, the smell of pancakes brought me to the kitchen. Two pancakes drenched in syrup rested on my plate. My dad held the daily newspaper, his lips set in a hard line.
“Eat up, your dad and I will need to head to work soon.” I nodded and finished eating after a few bites.
“Alright, let’s go.” My mom said in a chipper voice. She reached over to grab the car keys, but left them in the holder. I made my journey to the bus stop and sighed upon hearing their footsteps behind me. Same as yesterday, their bodies shook uncontrollably, while I continued walking to the bus stop.
I sat down in the front seat again and was joined by the black-haired boy. He threw himself down onto the cracked bus seat, out of breath as he said, “Let’s move quickly through introductions. I’m Brady. And you are?”
“Anthony…” I replied, startled.
“I’m hoping you’ll believe me. Well, you should with your parents and all.”
“What do you mean?”
“They won’t stop doing that. You know, the weird shaking. The rest of the neighborhood will ignore it, as if it’s not happening in the first place.”
“How do we stop it? Fix it?”
“That’s what I’m hoping you’ll help me with.”