This is another piece I entered in a flash fiction contest.
by: C. Alise Johnson
Just before I returned to the company of Trevor, the eight year old I was babysitting, I peaked through the kitchen window into the backyard. I saw him seated on the edge of the trampoline letting his legs swing freely, with his plump face directed toward the sky. I agreed to watch the kid for the promise of a hundred-dollar bill that would be slapped in the palm of my itchy hand. Rumors of Trevor’s habit to cause trouble were confirmed when his parents reminded me not to leave him alone.
Perhaps that is why the view from the kitchen surprised me. I never usually accepted invitations to babysit, but these people had a reputation of coming home pretty sauced up and dishing out large rewards to anyone who could keep Trevor from causing trouble. I treaded across the lawn to give Trevor some lemonade I made but as I got to the trampoline, he didn’t seem to care. I stopped adjacent to his juvenile figure and handed him a glass of summer’s favorite beverage only to have him ignore my offering.
“Trevor, here, take it,” I commanded. He ignored my authoritative offering. I rolled my eyes and looked at my phone for the time. 7:36, damn, six more hours, I thought.
I let a few moments pass before releasing a sigh and joining the eight-year old on the trampoline. I tilted my head and looked at the profile of his face to see his dreamy blue eyes map out something in the horizon. I followed his line of sight and looked at the sky for myself, expecting to see a hawk, or a squirrel in the trees. I saw nothing, but as soon as I looked at the same thing that held Trevor’s attention captive, he ended his spell of silence saying, “Wonderful, right?” Continue reading “Dawn”