The Acolytes of Crane "Updated Edition" Read Online Free Page B

there is excruciating inconsistency in how they
address my basic needs. I hear the plop of a filled paper cup hit the floor.
The vault closes, and my control is wavering.
    I
run over to the water and drink it, lapping it up like a dog on all fours. I
stop, because I want to ration this water. I place it in the corner next to my
mats to prevent it from falling, and I pick up the tablet to continue.
    “Where
was I? Oh yeah, the tree near the courtyard of the apartment complex—the oak.
It was a beast. I was now at the top of the tree, nearing the apex, and could
see beyond the Red Bricks. The amulet shone even brighter the higher I went.
For the first time ever, even in living daylight, it hurt my eyes to look
directly at it.”
    Now,
I was stable and secured between two thick branches. My thoughts of the
extraordinary amulet were interrupted by the sound of a dispute coming from
Travis’s apartment, through his screen.
    The
screen was duct-taped to fix a large hole. I could only see the outline of
their bodies through it, because the sun was blinding and the screen’s mesh
obscured my view.
    The
voices escalated in intensity and volume, as if a fight was building up.
Despite the amulet being the object of my intense fascination, I could not
ignore the urgency of the situation unfolding several feet away from me. One
voice was Travis’s for sure, but there was a man angrily out-shouting him. I
looked in their direction and squinted my eyes to see further.
    I
saw something that was etched upon my mind forever. It was weird to be a
witness to something so private, so shameful that you knew you were not welcome
to watch. The man, whom I assumed was Travis’ dad, was smacking Travis’ face!
Shocked, I covered my eyes with my hands and leaned against the tree.
    ‘I
hate you!’ Travis yelled to his dad.
    I
had to see more, and even though I was sick to my stomach with what I was
observing and hearing, my curiosity prevailed. I edged closer.
    They
say curiosity killed the cat. It appeared as if that was going to apply to me
too.
    I
lost my balance. 
    With
a loud creak, the branch cracked beneath my feet. In an instant, my body was
flailing out of control. I felt a blow to my leg, then arm, and shoulder, as I
struck branches on the way down. I landed on the grass below with a thud. I
rolled around in the grass as I struggled to block the scream that was
desperate to emerge from the back of my throat.
    I
felt like I was inside a submarine with a marching band. The horizon spun, and
my vision was littered with swirling blues and blacks. As I stood up, I felt
nauseated. I walked unsteadily toward the park bench, crunching the dried-up
crabgrass as I did so.
    Unable
to keep my balance, I stumbled. I braced for my fall by extending my arm
downward, but my elbow easily collapsed during the jolt on the ground. Every
sound was amplified, and my head was like a speaker ready to explode. I laid my
body upon the sun-warmed concrete and blacked out.
    It
was about seven minutes later that I was awakened by a garbage truck lifting
the dumpster behind me. My head felt like it was bashed with a baseball bat, or
the butt stroke from a rifle. I pulled myself together, and I thought about
what I witnessed. My instincts were correct. From my memory of Travis being
smacked across the face by his dad, I recalled he had a look on his face that
defined pain. He was in misery, because he was abused like me.
    I
felt shaken. The return to my apartment only required a forty-yard walk to the
door and an ascent of three flights of stairs, but it seemed like the longest
walk ever. I was dizzy and still seeing stars. My mouth was dry.
    I
had to cup my palm over my eyes to block the sunlight, which was searing my
brain. I knew what I saw, but I could not distill my scattered thoughts into a
clear image. The fall had struck the exact memory from my mind. Once inside, I
staggered up the stairs, and gripped the rail to hoist myself to the next
flight. In