The Junkyard pt. 1

"You, me, and all the kings and queens. Buried in The Junkyard."- Page France

“Here’s the problem with math class. It’s basically a waste of time. I got it back in Algebra, it was like ‘how do I solve this crazy life problem’ but now it’s like Geometry and I’m like, ‘I’m not building a tree house or anything anytime soon so I should be fine’ and I’m pretty sure Ms. Franklin hates me or something cause she moved me away from Marlene, and I know she has a weird name, but whatever she’s kind of cute, ya know? And Ms. Franklin embarrassed me in front of the class and was like ‘stop flirting and come up to the front Mr. Serrano’ it’s just rude is all, ya know?”

“I’ll give you 5 bucks to climb that tree.”

“It was totally rude, she just wanted me to feel bad cause I realized that her class was boring as heck! It’s ridiculous.”

“5 bucks, this 5 bucks right here.” He pulled out a crumbled up five dollar bill from his pocket and unfolded it in his hands.

“What are you even talking about?”

“I’ll give you 5 bucks to climb that tree and look at the other side of that wall.”

“Why do you always say that when we walk past this tree?”

“I can’t do it; I’m like 4 inches shorter than you. You can reach that low hanging branch.”

“I’m not climbing the tree Charlie. Are you even listening to me?”

“You’ve been hanging out with Marlene too much.”

“What is that supposed to mean?”

“It means you talk like a girl.”

“Alright. 5 bucks?”

“This 5 bucks right here,” Charlie said while smoothing out the bill in his hand.

Sam ripped it out of his and shoved it in his pocket. Looking up at the tall tree, he assessed the situation.

“What if I just put you on my shoulders.”

“Then I get my 5 bucks back.”

“Lame.” Sam reached up and grabbed the low hanging branch, pulling himself up slightly. As he set his feet against the trunk his shoes slipped from a lack of traction and Sam repositioned himself. He looked back at Charlie.

“It’s not gonna work.”

“… and you wonder why Marlene doesn’t like you.”

Sam grunted from under his breath some sort of incomprehensible defense and with a surge of energy from his anger he lifted his feet onto the low hanging branch and swung himself around. He stood up on the branch and dusted himself off slightly before hearing a crack from the branch. Leaves and debris came falling out of the tree and onto Charlie. He wiped them off of his eyes and saw Sam, now almost half way up the tree.

“Now we’re talking! You’ve almost earned that 5 bucks!” Charlie yelled up at Sam.

“That’s what she said!” Sam yelled back.

“Not one of your bests Sam, but good effort.”

Sam checked the nearby branches for sturdiness before pulling himself up just far enough to see over the wall, his vision just barely grazing the top of a sign that read “The Junk House”.

“It’s just a Junkyard,” Sam yelled down.

“My ass”

“Dude, language!”

“Just get down here and help me into the tree!”

“So now you want to get in the tree?” Sam questioned, hesitant to journey back down on the unstable branches.

“I needed you to make sure it was safe. You’re at least 30 pounds heavier than me, so I figure if you don’t fall I’m good.”

Sam became even more hesitant. The distance down seemed to grow infinitely larger the more he stared at it.  His hands were covered in sweat that only made him more afraid of slipping.

Charlie stood at the trunk of the tree, shoving his hands in his pockets and looking up at Sam annoyed.

“I’m walking home Sam.”

“Go ahead!” Sam yelled down.

Charlie began his departure, looking back occasionally to see Sam still staring at him from atop the tree.

“What are you looking at?” Charlie yelled back.

“If you’re gonna go then go!” Sam responded.

Sam knew that if he was going to get down he’d probably look like a sandwich bag full of applesauce, an image that was burned in his head ever since he threw that one sandwich bag of applesauce into a tree at the school playground. It would rest on branches for a moment before the applesauce shifted and it went tumbling down to the next branch, oozing and sliming, but somehow always staying inside the bag. He didn’t want Charlie to see him like that.

As Charlie walked further away, Sam lifted himself onto a branch to make sure Sam couldn’t see him, and of course of all the branches he lifted himself onto, this would be the one that would break.

Sam slipped from one branch to another, just like a sandwich bag of applesauce, until the ground came up to meet him. This wasn’t the trunk of the tree, or the hard cement of the walkway. The soil he landed on was wet, with patches of grass. As he opened his eyes he saw the Junkyard sign above him.

“Charlie!”