Quiet

From the outside, Derek Alder was a stoic child. He was always polite, always gentle, and he always kept to himself. That's why everyone tolerated his company so much.

But such tepid souls were never welcome in the shadowed forests of the Everglades. One need only glance around to find the soulless eyes of men and women who arrived into this quiet community, with hopes held high for a new life of solitude, only to emerge changed.

Everyone imagines that they will be the exception, and that nothing so terrible would befall themselves, or their families, once they set out on that journey. The Everglades exact a terrible price on those who live within its bounds.

The boy found this the hard way, one silver February morning, when he awoke to the sound of screaming in his head. He sat upright in his bed, and searched around for the source of this tremendous clatter, but there was no presence to be found.

The room was empty.

He was seven years old, in his warm full-body pajamas that swallowed him up with his diminutive frame. His father had bought them a couple years prior, at a sale, expecting for him to grow into them sooner or later, but he hadn't grown much at all. In fact, he only seemed to shrink every time he climbed onto the surface of his massive twin bed inside of it.

Sure, he had other clothes to wear to bed, but none were quite as cozy as this one. It reminded him of Mom, who would tuck him into bed every night, with a warm hug, and a kiss to the forehead. He needed that reminder, now more than ever.

This was the first time either of his parents had ever attempted to leave the forest, in the 8 long years since they had moved in. He begged and pleaded for her to reconsider, to remain with them, but she assured him she would be back before long. It was only two weeks, after all. She reminded him that he was getting at the age that he should learn a little more independence from her.

Two days had passed since then. He'd called her on the phone, just yesterday. He couldn't see her, but it was well-enough to know that she was okay. He went to bed that night, attempting to be brave with all that he had.

"Derek!" She screamed, again, as loud as ever before. That was his mother's voice!

"Mom?!" He suddenly grew alarmed, shooting out from under his covers, and scrambling off down the tightening corridors of the hallway, until they seemed to stretch on forever. "Mom! Mom!" He screamed, as loud as his little lungs could manage. Still, the door to his parents' room seemed to stretch ever further away.

"Dereeek..." She pleaded, her voice growing ever fainter as the slender rectangle of the light spilling around the doorjamb shrank into a glowing speck within the infinite darkness surrounding. He found himself swimming in an inky black void, before he knew it, his outstretched hands clasping toward a single twinkling star in the vast black sky.

One of millions, of trillions, or an infinite multitude of lights in the heavens above. He could no longer hear her voice.

As he ran in place for that extended period of time, tears streamed down his face. He wept for his mother, taken to places unknown, for purposes unknowable. He screamed her name until his throat was raw, and his face was drenched in the filth of snot and tears.

It wasn't until his father grasped him by the shoulder, and shook him that he jolted from his reverie. "Derek, what's wrong?! You're screaming like you've seen a ghost, son!"

The boy looked around. He found himself seated in the middle of their front yard, underside drenched in snow from his ankles to his ass cheeks. As he looked to his father's face, and back into the skies above, he found that he could no longer recognize which light had belonged to his mother.

"Where is she?!" He begged the man who broke his concentration. "Where is mom?"

"Your mother's just fine, buddy. She's visiting your aunt, remember?" His father laughed, smoothing out the boy's hair. "You were just having a nightmare. Why don't we head back inside?"

Even though the argument made logical sense, the boy was inconsolable. He wailed with all that he had that something had surely happened to his mother that night. He couldn't explain it, but still, he was absolutely certain of the fact that if he didn't go to her soon, he may never be able to see her, ever again.

His father eventually talked him into going back inside, and changing him out of the wet clothes. He overheard him on the phone, while soaking in the steaming waters of the bubble bath he'd drawn. "Yeah, I don't know, Jen. I've tried everything, but he just won't go back to sleep. I think he just wasn't ready. Maybe we should have prepared him, more?"

A long pause followed, as he listened to her speak from states away. "Yeah. Right. Of course, I know it's been hard, for you. I understand, but- Well, maybe it wasn't enough. I don't know what to do. I'm at a loss, here."

He couldn't listen any more. He understood how much of a burden he was on his parents, but he couldn't help but want more attention. He wanted to be the center of it. He wanted to be their entire world. That wasn't realistic, consciously, he knew, but he wanted it all the same.

It burned him up inside to hear the effect that he was having on his parents' lives. Still, he had his needs at the end of the day. The shame that crept from his belly for these desires was almost sickening. His eyes welled up in tears, once again, and as he began to sob, he heard a knock on the door to the bathroom.

"Derek, you okay, buddy?" He didn't respond. His face was warm with embarrassment for having been so weak as to incur such a desperate plea from his father. "Hey, listen. I've got some good news for you. Your mother's catching the next flight out, so you can see her soon!"

He wanted to open up his mouth, and say "never mind," or "I'm actually fine, dad. Don't worry about me." He wished he could part his lips and say the right thing, the mature thing. He already had so much. It wasn't fair that they felt prisoner to him and his whims, so he took a deep breath, and shouted a lie.

"Wait! I-I don't need... that's okay, dad! I've actually calmed down a lot." he actually faked a pretty convincing laugh. The lengths he would go impressed even himself. "I'm sure she's fine. Guess I just needed a good bath! Heehee!"

His father sighed through the door, and one could hear the exhaustion, heavy on his breath, leak out with it. "Really, buddy? Are you sure?" The hope was thick in his voice, but one could tell how eager he was to leap onto the lie, even if it was an empty one. The fact that his son would even think to cook up a lie to soothe his parents' pain was a sign that he was not indeed a failure of a father as his own dad was.

"Yeah. I really really really really really mean it! Tell her that she should take as much time as she needs. I'll see her soon."

"That's great, Derek... That's really great. I'll call her back, and let her know."

In the end, Derek's mother still wound up cutting the trip a little bit short, if only for the convenience of a slightly cheaper ticket, but he was still quite glad that she had cared enough to come even without his begging forcing her hand. She stayed another three days, before eventually he heard that wonderful chime, and ran down the stairs to greet the woman who had come to the door.

He couldn't turn that frosty brass knob fast enough in that winter afternoon, and he dove into her arms with every ounce of energy he had left. He was so ready to release all the anguish and worry that had built up over the past five days, that he almost didn't notice the change in her voice when she spoke.

"Oh, my baby. Did you miss me so very much?"

His posture froze. His arms grew stiff, and pallid. All the strength left his core, and his legs turned into jelly. That wasn't the voice from his dreams. It wasn't the voice he'd heard over the phone, just four days ago. It wasn't his mother's.

"What's wrong, baby? Aww, Are you still a little scared?" She squeezed harder.

He wanted to ignore this feeling, to wave it all away, or to pretend that it wasn't there, but he couldn't. The more she spoke, the more sure he was, than ever.

This lady was not his mother.