RUGBURN - A Short Story

Oh, the 'other' places we go.

Mom always seemed mad at everyone on this road, the one where cars honked and were constantly crammed together—like she did on most roads the closer they got to Iron Falls.

The carpet store was just past the blinking red light ahead, swaying in the hot wind of a blue summer day. They’d only been there once before, but Ryan thought about it a lot. Sometimes he even dreamed about it—the long rolls of carpet stacked on top of each other like a soft, woven mountain range. He and his younger sister Kayla made a game out of it, seeing who could climb across the rolling hills first, the rough, webbed underside of the carpet digging into their palms.

Kayla had won last time. And as they stepped out of the cool car into the yellow haze of summer heat, she seemed confident she would again, sprinting ahead as Mom yelled after her that she knew better than to run across a parking lot.

Ryan caught up, grabbed her hand.

“No cheating,” he said.

“You’re just trying to slow me down.”

“Kids, no fighting,” Mom snapped.

She’d been tense lately with all the work happening at the house, even though it was everything she’d talked about wanting for years. Dad finally said they had enough saved, thanks to his new job at the pyramid place—Ryan could never remember the actual name—and they hired a bunch of workers. Most days, the house felt more like a construction site, which was fine with Ryan, except it meant Mom kept sending them outside or over to the neighbor’s. No Starfox 64. No Ocarina of Time. His best friend down the road was gone on vacation too, so that cartridge was just sitting there, collecting dust. Ryan would’ve happily blown on it and slotted it in for another sleepover the second his friend got back.

Instead, his summer mostly involved babysitting Kayla while she and her friends rode pink-and-white Power Wheels around the subdivision.

“Ryan,” Mom said as they walked into the store, the smell of fabric and rubber hitting them along with a blast of air conditioning, “keep an eye on Kayla while I talk to Mr. Daniels.”

“You can probably stop telling me that, Ma. It’s kind of what I do. I’m a babysitting robot.”

“Lose the attitude. Your father’s working long hours and I just need a little extra help, okay? I promise it won’t be all summer.”

“Sure,” Ryan mumbled.

Kayla hadn’t listened to any of it. She broke away, already running for the carpet mountain.

“Race ya!” she shouted.

“Kayla, don’t—”

“It’s alright, Julie, they won’t hurt anything,” Mr. Daniels called out. He was already sweating, brow glistening under the pale fluorescents despite the blasting A/C. His belly pressed against a pristine white shirt, a red-and-yellow speckled tie draped over it.

“Sorry—the babysitter canceled,” Mom said.

“No problem. Just don’t lose that sister of yours,” Mr. Daniels added, patting Ryan’s shoulder.

Ryan gave a forced smile and glanced back. Kayla was already halfway across the field of carpet rolls.

He jogged after her and started climbing.

“I’m winning!” she called.

“You’re cheating,” he shouted back, mimicking her singsong voice. “Let’s start at the same time and see who really wins.”

Kayla neared the end of the row. Ryan climbed, then stood and ran across the top of the rolls, leaping from one to the next. He focused on keeping his balance, pretending he was in an Indiana Jones movie, hopping treacherous stone platforms over a pit of snakes.

He smiled. For the first time in weeks, he was having fun.

Then he looked up.

A scream. Kayla.

She must’ve fallen off the last roll. Probably crying. Probably hurt. And Mom would blame him, and—

Ryan stepped off the last roll and felt himself falling.

He tried to scream, but only inhaled—made a weird choking noise. His stomach rose into his throat.

He kept falling.