(Author’s Note: Mood greatly effects the work that creative people produce. As you will soon find out, this piece was created when I was in a peculiar mood, to say the least. It is a different kind of story than I usually write. Whether that is good or bad I will leave up to you.)
Friday had always been the most popular day. Monday, being the nerdiest day, had always tried to be like Friday, but never met with much success. Tuesday and Wednesday mostly ignored the rest of the days and could often be found huddled up together and laughing at some inside joke between the two of them. Wednesday was the quiet one and Thursday tried to get along well with every day. Sunday was the oldest and most mature, but tended to be long-winded when it came to spiritual matters.
Saturday and Friday did not like each other and had not spoken since Friday told Saturday that it smelled and cracked a joke about it needing a Sa-bath. Normally the other days ignored this fact and just waited for it to work itself out, but ever once in a while they joined Saturday and kept their distance from Friday. It was not animosity that caused this, but rather superstition for this only occurred when Friday was also the on the 13th.
Juliand never liked superstitions, except when Stevie Wonder sang about them. To him, Friday the 13th was just like any other day. If he were given the opportunity to reconsider this theory on the 14th he might have felt differently.
Friday, being ignored by the other days, was bored and decided to wake Juliand up early. Juliand had never treated Friday differently, even on the 13’s, and because of this, Friday had always liked him.
Juliand awoke to the blanket of darkness. The clock on the wall read Shakespeare. It also indicated that it was currently 5:27 am. Juliand could not read the clock on his wall due to the darkness that still filled his room.
The land of Dreams had rules about allowing those who were awake back into its borders. Juliand was denied re-entry, not matter how hard he tried, so he reluctantly pulled back his Star Wars blanket and began getting ready for school the way he always did. Maybe it was the combination of darkness and lack of the full 8 hours that caused Juliand to make three mistakes, but there is still the possibility that it was the fault of the number 13 that pranced around calendar pages across the world. (If you were to ask Saturday, there was no doubt that it was the latter.) Juliand’s three mistakes were a mismatched pair of socks, a cell phone, and his sister’s lunch bag. Two of these things would not make it to Saturday.
Juliand quickly discovered that his walk to school was far different in the dark. It was as if walking through a different world. Slowly he explored this new world, taking streets he had never been down before. He was surprised at how enlightening the dark could be.
Juliand dug into the wrong lunch bag to find the Snickers bar that his mother always packed for his breakfast. Later, the coroner would struggle internally about whether to talk to Juliand’s mother about how unhealthy a breakfast this was for a child, but would ultimately chicken out and just offer his condolences.
What Juliand had expected to taste in the breaking dawn was chocolate, caramel, peanuts, and “nougat”, which was still a bit of a mystery to him. What Juliand actually tasted was strawberry and whole grains.
Juliand immediately began running back home. It was not that Juliand did not like strawberries and whole grains (he did), it was that he knew his 3-year old sister had not yet learned to read.
At about that time, Juliand’s mother was strapping his sister into her car seat and placing what she assumed was her lunch next to her. Juliand’s sister loved her morning drive. It was a chance for her to explore what her toes tasted like, watch the world in fast forward, and enjoy her breakfast. Juliand’s sister was too busy singing along with Michael Bublé to noticed that the bar she pulled from the bag next to her was not the normal bar. She could not read the package boldly adverted Snickers. And she did not know that she was deathly allergic to peanuts. But Juliand did.
As Juliand ran back to his house, Beyoncé began to serenade him with her hit song “All the Single Ladies”. Julian stopped. This happens more often than not when Beyoncé serenades someone. Tragically, it was not really Beyoncé singing to Julian. It was his dad’s cell phone. Even more tragically, Eunice, the nice lady calling Juliand’s dad’s phone, had dialed the wrong number.
Toyota Tundra’s were a curious group of mid-sized trucks. They often wondered about the most peculiar things. Just that morning, Mac’s Toyota Tundra had been weighing the variables, trying figure out which objects he could make travel the furthest. Cell phones were lighter, but children had more of a spring effect. The truck was just as shocked as it’s driver when a boy suddenly appeared in the middle of the street and stopped. As it turns out, spring effect wins. Mac’s Tundra had guessed wrong.
Friday was incredibly sad to see Juliand not make it to Saturday. When asked about the tears, Friday would always claim to be sad about losing a friend. Deep down, it was because Friday began to fear that maybe the other days were right.
Saturday came as quickly as it could and did it’s best to clean up the mess left by Friday. Soon the cell phone was on its way to the city dump along with what was left of a sack lunch that was robbed of the experience of digestion. Thursday had graciously agreed to host Juliand’s funeral. Friday did not attend, but if it had it would have noticed that Juliand was buried with mismatched socks. And in the end that is the true tragedy of it all.
Copyright © 2011 Adam Drake