The Henderson Boy:

As Ashleen and I walked to school, I looked up and noticed someone watching us. I paused and looked deep into the thick brush. Ashleen paused and looked with me in curiosity.

“See something interesting, Faye?” she asked. I didn’t turn around.

“There’s somebody watching me in the bushes,” I whispered as I pointed to the brush in front of us.

“Huh?” she asked she looked on with me. A boy was staring at us in the bush. Out of the corner of my eye, my friend shook her head.

“Oh,” she said flatly. “It’s just the Henderson Boy.” I raised an eyebrow at the brush.

“Really?” I asked.

“Yeah, look,” she said as she pointed deep into the brush. I squinted deep into the direction that she was pointing in. It took me a second for me yo spot him out. The light bulb lit up in my head when I saw him.

“Oh! I see him!” I paused for a moment as confusion sank onto my face. “What does he want?” Ashleen shrugged.

“Who knows? Nobody can understand what goes on in that guy’s head. He’s just creepy!”

“I don’t think so.” Ashleen looked at me oddly.

“Are you funny in the head or something? The boy is a creeper!” I shook my head as the Henderson boy retired back into the woods.

“Nah, he’s just misunderstood, just like my family and I.” Ashleen breathed out as if she didn’t believe me and I was high, just like my parents were.

“You know Faye; you sure say some funny things sometimes.” I didn’t respond. I can’t narrow down anything about the Henderson Boy in just one sentence. He has had it rough than I ever had. I don’t really know the full story about him. I only remember bit and pieces about that boy.

First off, I don’t really know his name. I don’t think anyone ever really knows. We all just called him the “Henderson Boy.” He looks about nine or ten years old. That boy never talks at all. I think he lives in the same woods that the Firefly House is. He spends most of his time in the woods. We rarely see him come into town. When he is in town, he is usually with some older drunk woman who is always dressed in black. She always swayed through the streets in a Jack Daniels-filled daze with the Henderson boy following close behind her. We don’t know what his relationship is to her, even though some assumed that she was his mother. Though, he never did look like her. We all just kept guessing about him. We probably will never know to this very day.

The Henderson boy always looked so not at all there growing up. His eyes all looked like two small black holes that led to a colorless vacant space inside of him. That boy looked rather strong for his age. His body looked chunky, but he wasn’t fat. At least, we know that the Henderson boy manages to get food from somewhere. I betted that close up, I towered over him with my chin on the top of his head. (Not that I would try to do so at any point of time.) I can’t remember a time that I ever saw the Henderson boy at me school at any point that I lived in the town of Wurtland. No, I just saw him in the woods when I was running away from my parents violent fights or in town on a Saturday on the rare occasion that he would appear with that loud drunk woman. He never spoke at all. The people in the town wondered if he even *could* talk. But, the Henderson boy never really talked to anybody or seemed to have any friends at all. He just stared at people intently—especially me. This is why many try to avoid him.

Like Ashleen, the people of Wurtland, Kentucky thought that the Henderson boy was, as she puts it, funny in the head. I don’t really know the details of what happened to him. Most people just think that he was some serious brain damage from when he was born. Some suspected that the woman that he is seen with in town beats on him daily. (I don’t believe this at all. I never have never seen any bruises or injury to his body. Not that I had a chance to look at him close up.) Others think that he is just weird. I don’t think any of those things. I can’t really explain what I thought about the Henderson boy at the time or even now. I just felt like I saw a mute mirror image of myself in him. He always seems so lonely, so sad to me. I wish that there was some way to help…

“Faye!” I heard someone yell behind me. I quickly whipped around. Ashleen stared at me with an impatient look on her full-round face.

“We have to go! We have school, remember?” she pointed out. I blinked at her for a moment.

“Huh?” I asked, clueless. My friend sighed and shook her head at me as she rested it against the palm of her head.

“You are so hopeless without me, Faye Palin!” she announced. “Come on, let’s go!” Ashleen then grabbed me by the arm and dragged me further down the road to school.

“Hey!” I screamed. “Let go, you’re hurting me!” Ashleen didn’t listen.

“There’s no time for that!” she yelled. “Keep up with me or we’ll get in trouble with the teacher for being late again!” I sighed aloud in defeat.

“Fine!” I said at last. “Yes ma’am!” I didn’t argue anymore after that; I just let Ashleen run to school—dragging me along with her. She always hates to be late for anything.

	Jimi Hendrix - The Wind Cries Mary .mp3
	Found at bee mp3 search engine