Page 10 of June First
“My grams let me pick it out for the new baby.” Theo shrugs. “I told my parents I was naming her Butterfly since she was a girl, but they didn’t like that name.”
“Why not?”
“I dunno. They said we don’t name new babies after bugs, but then they named her after a month. That doesn’t sound like a people name either.”
Pondering this, I stare down at the pink and yellow butterfly toy. “Do you like her, Theo?”
He flops down onto his back, head to pillow, and situates his arms behind his neck. He lets out a long sigh and says, “Yeah, I really like her. I love her, even.”
“More than your video games?”
“Probably the same amount.”
Our conversation in my driveway stirs in my thoughts, bringing back images of colorful adventures and battles. Swords and weapons. Mazes and monsters.
At the center of it all is a little princess.
I wonder if Theo still wants to pretend we’re heroes, just like Mario and Luigi. I’m about to ask him; I’m about to see if he wants to create our own grand adventure together, with June as the princess, but it’s almost like he read my mind.
“We’ll protect her, you and me,” Theo says, gazing up at the glow-in-the-dark galaxy stickers pressed to his ceiling. “I’m Mario, and you’re Luigi. And June is Princess Peach.”
“Okay,” I tell him.
“You still want to, right? You didn’t forget?”
I quickly shake my head. “I didn’t forget. We’ll keep her safe from all the bad things in the world.”
As I say it, I realize I don’t know how to do this yet.
And then I think—
Neither did my mom.
A loud cry startles me awake.
I shoot up in bed, sweat dotting my brow, my chest already tight with fear.
“Forgive me. Don’t go downstairs. Cover your ears.”
My heart pounds against my ribs, and when that cry rings out again, I do cover my ears.
At first I don’t know where I am. Memories bury me like an avalanche, and I think I’m walking down my staircase with Bubbles held close for protection. My mom said she’d protect me, but she’s not here. I don’t know where she is.
It’s so quiet. I’m breathing really fast. Something is wrong, but I don’t know what.
I’m scared.
I want my mom.
I guess I say it out loud because Theo answers back.
“It’s okay, Brant. That’s just June.” He sits up from the other side of the room, slightly illuminated by the neon-green dinosaur lamp on our shared bedstand. “She does this every night. Don’t be scared.”
My heartbeats start to slow as the fear dissipates. I lower my hands from my ears, staring at my friend through the darkness. “She sounds so sad.”
“Yeah. Mom says babies cry a lot because they need something.”
I wonder what she needs. When I was scared or sad, I would always reach for Bubbles. He made me feel better.