IN THE TALL GRASS by River Confer (Short story

IN THE TALL GRASS by RIVER CONFER

“Shit!” , Sounded the sandlot chorus in unison. Overhead, our collective last ball soared, tracing a line for the sun and falling unceremoniously into the barley field owned by Mrs. Wentworth. “That’s the fifth one today!” , The first baseman called out. “I’ll go have a look. ” , I said, running so that I could outrun the shades of their careless words. I slowed to a stop at the field's boundary and considered turning back. I searched my mind for an excuse but found none, and I could feel the pockmarks of their listless eyes boring holes into my shirt, letting in light where it oughtn’t be. Waiting a moment for a point suciently between breaths and heartbeats, I closed my eyes and stepped into the haze of the golden field. The ball had gone far — its arc had carried it at least a dozen yards into the field, but already I could not tell where I was in relation to the ball's most recent landing. I receded into the murky memories of the last few minutes until I found in my mind the instant in which I had seen the ball flying overhead, over and over I replayed the scene looking for a clue of the ball's whereabouts. Finally, it came into my mind! Just before the ball crossed the horizon into the dense evening barley, it had been — for a moment — between the steeple of the church where everyone got dressed to weep, and the canopy of a Stoney Oak that lay somewhere just on the other side of the field. I traced the tops of the waving blades for a glimpse of either landmark, seeing nothing but the orange emptiness of a sky that promised stars; a sky that if I was not quick would follow me home where my parents would scorn me for inviting a night sky to their door. At the thought of a supperless evening, my footsteps quickened, my arms combed wide through the bowing stalks, and my head hung low and scrutinized the soil. The smell of flowers filled my nose, and I paused to find its source. Fifteen odd feet away from me, a girl in a blue sundress lay on a bed of cracked stems, her hair so well suited to the color of the field that at first I did not notice it, laying long beside her, accompanying her.

“Hey, ” I said, walking towards the girl and her hair. “What are you doing?” “I could ask the same of you. ” She said, not looking away from the sky. “I’m looking for my ball, ” I said. “Have you seen it?” “No, ” she said, still looking up “I’ll help you find it if you lay with me a minute” at this proposition I hesitated, but my feet did not obey, and so by the time I had decided she might be pulling my leg I was standing over her bed of reeds. She turned to me and locked her midday opal eyes with mine, the color of soil, a color that would ruin her blue dress, her billowing hair. I looked away, feeling an uncertain shame. “Well, c’mon, ” she said, “I won’t bite long as you listen better than those boys you was playin with. ” I laid down beside her and looked up where she had been looking hoping that this solidarity would suce for the lack of eye contact. “Do you know them?” I said. “I don’t think I’ve seen you before. ” “I don’t know them. ” She said, “but they talk too loud to listen good. You seem dierent than them. ” “How’s that?” I asked, pung my chest to fit better into her apparently charitable view of me. “Don’t know, I hardly known you a minute, but I get the feeling in my gut, and my gut ain’t a liar” she turned away from the sky again to look over at me “you calling my gut a liar?” She said and I could feel her breath was hot, but I shivered. I turned to meet her opal eyes and her big grin and found that I was smiling too “no I.. I guess not” “well good, ” she said turning back to the sky. As she turned I saw a flash of silver and white hanging from her ear, a tulip earring

hanging from a chain that swung as she spoke.

“Do you know what stars are made of?” She said. My heart sank as I looked back at the sky and it was dark, thousands of stars bejeweled an otherwise black sky. “Oh man, I didn’t realize the sun had set I'd better get going, my parents will be mad. ” As I sat she put her hand on mine and once again I was frozen by her heat.

“Now wait a minute, I asked you a question. It’s rude not to answer a lady when she asks you a question don’t you know that?” The coyness in her words brought a clarity that I realized had been lacking in everyone else up to this point. It also made me feel sick, high up in my stomach, a kind of sickness I hadn’t felt before. I laid back down, pushing images of belts and brimstone from my mind to make room for her question. “Fire?” I oered, immediately biting my tongue at the suggestion. She graciously ignored the remark, “My daddy says that stars are tomorrow’s sky peeking in on today so it knows if it should be a rainy sky or a sunny sky” “that’s crazy, ” I said, feigning authority that allowed me to dismiss thoughts I had not even considered, an authority I hoped would impress her. She paused for a moment “I told you I would only help you find your ball if you listened” she waited for my reply “I’m sorry” I said. And I was. “He says that the day the stars are black as the sky there won’t be a day after. He says that’s how you know tomorrow ain’t coming” I cocked my head to the side to see the stars from a dierent angle “tomorrow looks pretty” I said and she laughed. A laugh that sent my heart reeling all the way back to when I was in diapers, a memory covered in dust of me sitting by a pond somewhere, somewhere I don’t know where and the grass is so green it hurt my eyes and in the pond was a white bird. And I’m laughing harder than I ever remember laughing. And then she is laughing and it is nighttime and.. “Oh man, I really do have to get home, ” I said, the panic flooding back in. “Let’s find your ball real quick, ” she said “then I’ll let you go” she stood and pulled me with her. “Where'd you look?” She asked. “Well, I walked from the sandlot over that way and looked all around till I got here. ” I said, pointing. She laughed again, but this time my heart turned to stone “the sandlot ain’t that way silly, it’s that way. ” She said pointing the opposite way that I had. “Oh, ” I said confused but too ashamed to say anything more. “Have you tried jumping?” She said, grabbing my other hand and turning to face me head-on. She was shorter than me, maybe a grade younger, but I still couldn’t recall having seen her before. “Jumping?” I asked cynically. “Yeah, well if you can’t find it looking around why don’t you try looking down?” Ain’t nothing to stand on here, so you’ll just have to jump” she said this so matter of factly that I cursed myself for not having thought of it sooner. “Here, ” she said, letting go of one of my hands and facing the same direction as me. “We’ll jump at the same time. I’ll look left you look right. One of us is bound to see a white ball in a gray field. ” “Ok, ” I said. She bent her knees and so did I. “On three ok?” She squeezed my hand.

“Ok” . “1..2…3!” On three we jumped, her looking left, me looking right but I did not see a ball, I did not even see the steeple of the church or the Stoney oak or even Mrs. Wentworth’s house. “Did you see it?” She asked when our feet had touched down again. “No, did you?” I returned. “No. let’s try again” . “1..2…3!” We lept once more, higher this time, so my stomach jumped up into my throat and the ground startled me when it was not there when I expected it to be. Nevertheless, we touched down a second later. “How about now?” she asked. “Still nothing, ” I said. “Alright, ” she said. “One more time and if we still don’t find it I’ll find it

tomorrow and bring it to you. ” “How will you“ “do you want to find it or not?” She asked, cutting me o. “Alright, ” I said, and this time I counted. "1..2…3!” Then I lept, but she did not. She let go of my hand and the ground did not come back. Instead, I continued to rise higher and higher. I looked down and there she was waving, her opal eyes now glowed a bright yellow like the sun. I soared. Next to her, I saw an orange glow of fire, so close to where I had been standing that I should have been burned but I had not noticed it until now. “Look out!” I yelled, “there’s a fire!” But it was no use, I was too high up. I looked out to get my bearings, but in each direction, I only saw barley and patches of fire all over, some as big as football fields, others so small they looked like the stars I had so recently looked up at. Suddenly my direction began to change. I was no longer going up, I was slowing and slowing to a stop. Then I began to fall. I fell so fast that the colors and the sounds of the world blurred into a single color, a muddy blue. I continued to fall until I could see my house, getting larger as the wind passed. I closed my eyes as tightly as I possibly could and stuck my hands out in front of me. The howling stopped the roar of the wind reduced to a whisper between crickets. I felt the ground, cold, hard asphalt beneath my palms and slowly I opened my eyes. Below me was the street and before me was my house, a single light on in the living room. I rose to my feet and checked myself for injury “holy shit” I sighed. “Got to get inside it’s already so late” I attempted to swallow but the dryness of my wind-blown throat would not allow it. I bent my head and began to walk up the lead-spattered stairs to the door. As I mounted the final step I noticed a small package with a note addressed to me. Carefully, I picked up the note and peeled its seal open. “Hope you find what you are looking for” is all it said, I flipped the page looking for a name or postscript but there was none. Next, I lifted the package and opened it at the corners, inside lay a baseball, stained with clay, and a little tulip earring on a silver chain. I looked up at the house before me, silent, save the window of the living room which glared its blueish, noisy light, and then past the house, to the sky, black as molasses.