Going Home

The two-year old boy lay on the operating table, a respirator covering his mouth and nose. A frantic group of doctors and nurses started IV’s, took vitals, and called out results to people standing by with clipboards. The child was covered in bruises, a very large one coloring the right side of his face a deep purple. The basement door at his home had been left open, and the unsteady toddler had lost his footing and fallen all the way down onto concrete floor. They had little hope for his survival.

His mother cried and prayed out in the waiting room. The boy stopped breathing several times. At one point, they lost him for a terrifying five seconds before his heart resumed beating weakly. Eventually, they stabilized him enough to get him on life support. Still, they had little hope for long-term recovery.

Miraculously, he did recover, and seemed no worse for the wear. All tests showed normal brain activity, and his broken arm and rib healed up just fine. Within three months of the accident he was released from the hospital. Within a year, he was given a full bill of health.

A few months later, the hallucinations began.

*

In a place far distant, a family eagerly awaited the birth of a new son and brother. Three months into the pregnancy, something went wrong. No one could explain it. The parents were heartbroken as they tried to explain to their four year old daughter why ‘baby brother’ wasn’t coming anymore.

*

Five years later

Kirk doodled in his writing journal, his mind wandering. He had finished his ‘QOTD’, question of the day, and was waiting for Mrs. Jerry to say writing time was over. He finished the head of his stick figure, leaving off the mouth. He wasn’t sure whether to make it smile or not.

He kicked his feet back and forth, his toes barely touching the ground. A few of the kids in his class could put their whole feet on the ground without even scooting forward in their chairs, but not most of them.

“Excuse me, Mrs. Jerry.”

Kirk turned his head around, stretching his neck to see Mrs. Principal (he couldn’t remember her real name) standing by the door. She was smiling. Kirk waved at her happily, and she waved back.

“I’ve brought your new student.”

Kirk stood up from his seat. Only then could he see the little girl standing shyly next to Mrs. Principal.

“Oh, wonderful!” Mrs. Jerry said. “Class, put down your pencils. Meet your new classmate, Kinsley.” The girl walked forward with little baby steps, eyes staring at her feet. Her shoes lit up every time she took a step, making the unicorns on her sandals sparkle.

Unicorns.

It was an unspoken rule in any classroom with Kirk present. Unicorns, dragons, fairies, trolls, ogres, and any other fantasy creatures were not allowed. It wasn’t because he didn’t like them or anything. They just made his mind not work quite right.

He stared at those shoes, blinking on and off. The blackness started to gather at the edge of his eyes. It moved all the way to the middle until he could only see the unicorns. Then, it started to go away again. As it moved, it pulled away Mrs. Jerry’s classroom, replacing it with a green field. Full of unicorns. One of them made a funny noise at him, taking a bunch of quick, tiny steps that looked a little like a silly dance. Kirk laughed in glee, reaching towards the creature.

The grass beneath his feet faded into the rough bluish carpet of a classroom. He stood with his hand out in the air, trying to touch a unicorn that was no longer there. All the kids were staring at him, a couple of them giggling.

He felt his face getting hot and quickly sat back down in his seat, slumping as low as he could, wishing he could disappear.

He’d made it two weeks. A new record.

*

Kirk looked through his drawer, moving the crumpled shirts around to find one that would work. It was getting hot, with summer about to start, but he needed something with long sleeves. He finally picked his white warm-up jersey from summer soccer camp last year. It wasn’t too thick, but it had long sleeves.

He pulled on the first pair of pants he found and then hurried down the hall, hearing his mom yell his name again.

“Kirk! We’re going to be late!”

“I’m ready, Mom!” he said, rushing into the living room. She gave him a quick glance over.

“Shorts with long sleeves?” she asked, raising one eyebrow. Kirk had never been able to do that.

“It’s hot,” he said, shrugging.

She looked suddenly sad. “Oh.”

They drove to Ms. Patricia’s office quietly. Kirk sat buckled in the back seat, swinging his legs nervously and tapping his fingers against his thighs.

“I’ll be back for you in an hour,” his mom said, kissing him on the cheek as she dropped him off.

Ms. Patricia’s office was small, with a big cushy couch covered in pillows and a couple of pretty plants and pictures for decoration. She smiled at him as he walked in.

“Kirk, it’s so good to see you!”

“Hello, Ms. Patricia.”

“Take a seat.”

He did, sinking into the fluffy couch until he thought he might get eaten by it.

“So, how have you been doing this last week?”

He didn’t meet her eyes. “Pretty good.”

She waited a few seconds. “Pretty good?”

He shrugged. “I saw unicorns in class yesterday,” he muttered.

She nodded, giving him a gentle smile. “It’s alright, Kirk. Do you have any idea what caused it?”

He shrugged again. “A girl had unicorn shoes.”

“I see,” she said. “Why don’t you tell me about other things. How have things been at home?”

He started picking at a loose string on one of the pillows. “Good.”

“How does your dad like his new job?”

“It’s good.”

“Honey, what’s wrong? Did something happen at home? Or with kids at school?”

Kirk squirmed a little. “It’s just…Dad was upset when he heard that I had messed up in class again. He…yelled at me.”

“Kirk,” Ms. Patricia said softly. “You did not ‘mess up’. You cannot control these things.”

He nodded. She said that a lot.

*

Sometimes, Kirk saw amazing creatures and beautiful forests. Other times, he saw people who could fly or lift huge rocks. Those people usually didn’t notice him, but he’d seen some of the kids looking at him before.

He knew that what he saw wasn’t real. He didn’t know why he saw it. His doctor said it had to do with an accident when he was little. It had messed up his brain, making him different from other people. Apparently, they couldn’t fix his mind the way they had fixed his broken arm. Ms. Patricia said it was his way of ‘coping’, although he still wasn’t sure what that meant.

If he saw a movie or a picture with a fairy or a superhero or a griffin, sometimes he would start seeing his fake world. But he always saw it after a beating. In that time when the pain got too big for him, the world would go away. He would suddenly be in his other world, the one his mind made up for him. It was…nicer. He wished he could stay there, but he always came back.

Tonight had been a bad one. Dad was angry already when he got home, and dinner hadn’t been ready on time. Kirk had waited for the blows to stop, but they just kept coming, followed by screams. Usually, Dad tried not to hit his face. Tonight he didn’t seem to care.

Finally, the blackness came.

Kirk blinked his eyes, confused. This wasn’t his beautiful world. The air was smoky, and it made him cough. A bunch of people were rushing around him, wearing big orange suits and scary looking masks. They were carrying other people, ones in normal clothes. They looked like they were sleeping. He followed the people in orange, hoping they were going away from the smoke.

They were. Kirk had to squint as they moved into sunlight. Finally, someone noticed him. A man in an orange suit pulled off his mask, frowning.

“Hey, kid!” the man yelled. He looked around, hands going to his hips. “Who let this kid past the barrier?” He started to march towards Kirk, and Kirk froze, terrified and unable to speak. No one had ever spoken to him in his fake world, especially not tall, grown-up men. He was supposed to be safe here.

The man reached for him, and Kirk whimpered. But the hand passed straight through Kirk’s arm. The man’s eyes went wide.

“What the-”

“What’s going on, Garv?” someone else yelled.

The man-Garv-stared at Kirk with confusion. “This-this kid…”

“What are you talking about, Garv? All that smoke go to your head? There ain’t no kid over there.”

Kirk cocked his head. This really was a strange dream.

“He’s right here!” Garv exclaimed, gesturing at Kirk.

“Lay off the booze before shift, Garv,” another man called out. “Get over here and help with these people.”

Slowly, Garv moved away, casting glances over his shoulder at Kirk.

The world faded, and he was in a dark room. His bedroom. He could only open one eye. The other was stuck shut, either swollen or caked in blood. He could taste blood too, and some of him was really sore from bruises. He slowly moved his legs and arms. Everything still worked, mostly. That was good. He didn’t want to go to the emergency room again.

*

Kirk raised his hand eagerly. A couple of other kids did too.

“I think Kirk had his hand up first,” Mrs. Jerry said. He grinned, leaping from his seat and hurrying up to the front of the room. Mrs. Jerry handed him the white board marker.

“Alright, the first word is ‘against’,” she said.

He nodded excitedly. He knew all of the vocabulary words and always got 100 percent on his spelling tests. He pulled the lid off the marker and carefully, in his best handwriting, began to write the ‘a’. He loved writing on white boards. It was so smooth, and the letters went on so much prettier than on paper.

As he wrote, Mrs. Jenny kept talking to his classmates. “Who can give me a sentence with the word ‘against’ in it?”

“I played baseball against my brother!” Mikey shouted without raising his hand.

“Mikey,” Mrs. Jenny said. “Make sure to raise your hand next time.”

“Sorry,” the boy muttered. Kirk finished writing and handed the marker to Mrs. Jenny. She took it with a smile.

“Brittany?” she called on a girl in the front row who had her hand up.

“I hit my head against the wall,” she said, causing a few kids to laugh.

Kirk didn’t laugh. He raised a hand to the back of his head, where a lump was hidden by his thick brown hair.

The classroom disappeared. He jumped, surprised. There had been no darkness this time to warn him of the dream. He now stood in a house with a bright green couch and some wooden stools facing a wall made totally of glass.

Someone was sitting on one of the stools, eating what looked like a cookie. He jumped when he noticed Kirk.

“Shiz!” he exclaimed. Kirk cocked his head. It was Garv, the same person he had seen before. “You’re that kid, the one I saw before!” He paused. “Are you…a ghost?”

Kirk laughed, even though he still felt a little scared. “Ghosts aren’t real! Grown-ups are supposed to know stuff like that.”

“Of course they are,” Garv said, frowning.

Kirk laughed again. Unicorns and dragons were real in his fake world. Maybe ghosts were too.

“Who are you?” Garv asked.

“Kirk.”

“What are you doing in my house? And how did you even get in here?”

Kirk looked around. The house really was strange, with every wall a different color and that wall made of glass.

“I just come here sometimes. Ms. Patricia says it’s a ‘coping mechanism’.” He said those last words with as much grown-up authority as he could. He didn’t know what it meant, but it sounded important.

“You’ve been to my house before?” Garv looked shocked.

Kirk shook his head. “No, I mean my fake world. With all the superheroes and magic. I come here sometimes. I don’t mean to, though.”

“Your…fake world?”

Kirk nodded. “Yeah. The one in my head that no one else sees. It’s not real, I know. I used to think it was real, but it’s not.” He shrugged. Garv looked at him like he was crazy.

“Kid, I think…I think we should find your parents.” He stepped slowly towards Kirk, like he was trying to sneak up on a butterfly. He reached out one hand towards Kirk’s shoulder. Kirk flinched but couldn’t get his feet to move.

This time, his hand didn’t pass through Kirk. Garv let out a long breath.

“Okay, not a ghost then,” he muttered.

“I’m home!”

Kirk jumped at the sudden shout and Garv spun, hand falling from his shoulder. A little girl with bright blue hair skipped around the corner. She froze when she saw Kirk.

“Who’s that?” she asked, folding her arms and glaring at him.

“Uh…” Garv glanced at Kirk. “Sorry, what’s your name again?”

“Kirk.”

“Right. Amella, this is Kirk. He’s…um…”

“I’m visiting my fake world,” Kirk said. He stared at the girl, head cocked. This dream was so much weirder than the other ones. Usually he didn’t get to talk to anyone. Plus, he hadn’t seen a single unicorn, dragon, or fairy. Well, those things were weird, but they were a normal-weird because he saw them all the time.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Amella asked, sticking her hip out like his mom sometimes did when she was upset.

“Amella, why don’t you go get your mother for me?” Garv said.

She stuck out her bottom lip. “But Dad! I just got here!” She stomped one foot.

Dad. Kirk’s mind got all fuzzy, and the world blurred for a moment before snapping back into place.

“Dad,” he said softly.

Garv looked at him. “Yes. Do you know where your dad is, kiddo? Maybe I can help you find him.”

Kirk looked at the floor. “I don’t want to find him.” The words came out before he even thought. He put a hand quickly over his mouth. He wasn’t supposed to say that. Mom told him never to say things like that!

Garv’s eyes narrowed, and he scanned Kirk up and down. He got down on his knees in front of Kirk, talking very softly. “Do you mind rolling your sleeves up for me, bud?”

Kirk felt his whole body go stiff. He formed his hands into fists, closing his lips tightly. He wasn’t going to say another word.

Garv reached for his arm. He quickly clasped both arms behind his back.

“It’s okay, I won’t hurt you.”

Kirk started to tremble. He felt like he was going to cry, and he tried not to. But he couldn’t.

Shaking, he bowed his head as the tears started to fall. Garv held him while he cried.

*

Kirk blinked several times, confused. Where was he? He sat up, recognizing the nurse’s office at school. Nurse Melody was there, talking on the phone with someone.

“Oh, he just woke up! I need to tend to him. Yes, alright. Okay. Of course. Yes, good bye.” She turned to him, smiling. “How are you feeling?”

“Tired,” Kirk admitted, rubbing his eyes.

Nurse nodded. “That makes sense. You just rest now. Your father is coming to pick you up.”

Kirk looked at his hands. Dad. He would be angry at Kirk for dreaming in class again.

In only a few moments, Dad was there in the doorway. He didn’t look mad. He never looked mad until they were alone.

“Let’s get you home, Kirk,” he said. Kirk only nodded. He followed his dad out to the car and climbed into the backseat. His dad leaned in towards him as he started to buckle into his booster seat.

“What is wrong with you?” he growled. Kirk cringed away. His dad’s breath smelled bad, the way it always smelled those times when he beat Kirk the worst.

“I’m sorry,” Kirk whispered.

His dad snorted before climbing in the front and slamming the door. They raced out of the parking lot, nearly hitting a woman getting out of her car.

His dad was driving really crazy. Kirk frowned. He kept moving to one side of the road and then the other. Wasn’t he supposed to go straight?

“Dad!” Kirk shouted, eyes going wide.

It was too late. They slammed into the enormous semi-truck head on.

*

“You’re back.”

Kirk looked around, confused. He stood in a field of bright flowers and green grass. A few unicorns pranced around playfully, like specks of glittering light flying around their heads. Kirk knew those would be tiny people with wings if he got close enough.

And a little girl stood beside him, her blue hair bunched up in a mess on top of her head. Amella.

“We were really surprised when you disappeared,” she said. “Where’d you go?”

“Back to my real world,” he said.

“Huh. You’re a little crazy, you know that?”

He shrugged. Lots of kids at school said that. He didn’t think he was crazy, though.

“I’m gonna get Dad,” she announced, pointing at him with a stern look. “Don’t move.”

*

“Interesting,” Garv mused, leaning back in his seat. The little boy sat before him, absently rubbing his arms. Garv had managed to pry a small amount of information out of the child. When he’d been very young, he’d been badly injured, purportedly by falling down the steps. Garv doubted that story but didn’t press. Kirk had apparently nearly died, or actually died, several times, before finally recovering. After that, he had begun having ‘hallucinations’ of a different world. Garv’s world, apparently.

“You know,” he said slowly, causing Kirk to glance up. “Here, we believe that after someone dies, their soul is sucked into another reality. Another dimension. Do you know what I mean?”

Kirk cocked his head. “Maybe…”

“Oh!” Amella exclaimed, leaping to her feet from where she had been drawing with chalk on the floor. “So when he died, he came here! But then they brought him back to life!”

“Maybe he is stuck somewhere in between realities,” Garv said softly. Then he shook his head. This was probably way over the poor kid’s head. Besides, Kirk was probably confused and tramatized enough. According to the child, he had just gotten into a ‘car accident’, which apparently consisted of large metal contraptions running into each other at recklessly high speeds. Apparently, people didn’t fly in Kirk’s reality.

“So are you dead?” Amella asked bluntly. Garv winced.

“No, honey, he’s not dead. He would be born as a baby if he had died.”

She frowned. “Oh. But I wanted him to stay here with us.”

Kirk looked up, and Garv could see the gleam of hope in his eyes. Garv smiled gently. “I don’t think that’s up to us, sweet one.”

Amella pouted and Kirk looked crestfallen.

“Let’s go for a walk,” Garv offered, hoping to lighten the mood.

*

Garv remembered, precisely five years and three months ago, when his wife had miscarried their second child at the age of three weeks. A little boy, perfectly healthy for all anyone could determine. That had been around the time little Kirk had been in the hospital, battling for his life…

Coincidence, Garv told himself firmly. He believed in dimensional soul transfer, but that didn’t mean he needed to start acting like one of the cultists who treated it like some mythical art.

They stood at the edge of a cliff looking at a vast churning river. Kirk was mesmerized, but tentative. He stood back from the edge, craning his neck forward like a baby bird peering over the side of its nest, not quite ready to take the leap.

“Here, people can fly,” Garv said, smiling.

Kirk’s eyes took on a dreamy look. He hesitantly took another step forward. Amella already stood perched at the edge, her bare toes curled over the rocky outcrop.

Kirk closed his eyes, and then he smiled. “This feels like home,” he said. His body was growing translucent.

“I think you’re going back!” Amella cried out, reaching for him.

He shook his head, eyes still closed. “No, not this time. I think…I think I want to stay here…” He stepped forward, off the cliff, just as his form faded into nothing.

*

Emily held her son’s hand as he took his final breath. She wept silently. She had gotten her boy back once, long ago, but had always felt as though he was just on loan to her. Now, he’d finally moved on.

This was better, and she knew it. The child hadn’t lived a happy life. She would be selfish to say otherwise. His father had only grown worse since that first time, so many years ago, when Kirk's incessant temper tantrum mingled with a little too much drink had driven him to a rage. She should have left him after that first incident, the one that had almost left her baby dead or crippled. She should have run, for Kirk's sake, but never could bring herself to. He was always so sorry, so sincere. This time, this time would be different. He would change, be the man she had seen when they first met...

But no. It was too late for that. Kirk was...he was...

She took a deep breath, steadying herself. This was better. Still, she loved her little boy. She loved him deeply. But now he could finally be free.

*

9 months later

Garv gently squeezed his wife’s shoulder, staring in wonder at the little miracle in her arms. A boy with a fuzz of brown hair, all red and squirmy. Beautiful.

“Good to finally see you, bud,” Garv whispered.

Hana laughed softly. “I still think you’re crazy, you realize.”

Garv chuckled, too elated to reply. Instead, he leaned down to kiss his new son on the forehead. “Welcome home, Kirk.”