Colors

This is a story about an almost entirely average kid named Cassius.

Cassius lives in in a tiny apartment with his mom and his sister. A year ago they lived in a house, with a porch, a big backyard, and a dad that opened pickle jars and mowed the lawn on Saturdays. In a lot of ways Cassius is your typical 2nd grader. He plays soccer and video games. He craves French fries dipped in Ranch—broccoli, not so much. He loves his mom, and his big sister too, even if he won't admit it. Yep, Cassius is an almost entirely average kid in every way—except one: He's color blind.

Cassius's whole life has been a black and white movie. No pink cotton candy or red licorice. That is, until a few months ago, when the strangest thing happened. It started with a white napkin. He noticed a spot on one of the corners. It was a strange spot. It wasn't white and it wasn't black, and it wasn't any shade of grey either—and Cassius knew every shade of grey there was. The not-white-not-black-and-not—grey spot on the corner of the napkin began to grow. It grew and grew until the entire napkin was covered in the strange spot. And it didn't stop there. The spot leaked out onto the table, except on the table it wasn't white, or black, or grey, or whatever it was on the napkin. It wasn't until the spot reached an apple in the middle the table that Cassius had an idea about what he was seeing. The only thing he could think of, was that the strange spot spreading out in front of him was color! It had to be! If it wasn't black, and it wasn't white, and it wasn't any of the shades of grey. was used to, then the strange coating covering everything around him had to be colors! It wasn't long before the entire room was painted in the most vivid hues imaginable. For the first time in his life Cassius could see that the dragon on his soccer uniform wasn't grey, it was a bold red, and the bland grass outside was actually a vibrant green. The sudden explosion of color unfolding in front of him lasted for exactly fifteen minutes before it started to fade back to the black and white movie he was used to. But that wasn't the end for Cassius and his color. On every other Saturday, for the last four months, the world around him has transformed into full high-definition color for no more than fifteen minutes.

To this day he hasn't told a single soul. It's not that he's afraid of sounding crazy. He's afraid of jinxing it. What if he says the wrong thing and the color leaves never comes back?

Cassius isn't the only one in his family without the ability to see color. Turns out his dad is color blind too. His mom says that's where he got it from. Even so Cassius misses his dad terribly. Things haven't been the same since he went away. His mom seems lonelier than he remembers. His sister plays tough, but she misses him too. Every time she learned a new dance she'd force him to do it with her. He always did, but it never looked the same as when she did it. You don't have to be able to see color to know that things are duller without him. Sometimes the colorful Saturdays are the only thing Cassius has to look forward to. He keeps a special notebook where he can write down all the things he wants to remember on the special day. His mom even put a calendar by his bed to help him count down the days.

Last night Cassius got to draw a big black X through Thursday. That makes today Friday, the day before the big day. School went by at a snail's pace. He managed to finish his homework in class so he doesn't have any distractions this weekend. When finally he gets home from school he sits at the kitchen table and draws in his notebook while his mom cooks dinner. After washing down a plate of light-grey macaroni, with a glass of dark-grey chocolate milk, he helps his sister clear the dishes. As soon as he's done he races upstairs to get ready for bed. He figures the sooner he goes to sleep on Friday, the sooner Saturday will come. He brushes his teeth with shiny white toothpaste and waits for his mom to tuck him in. She comes in with a black marker so he can cross another day off the calendar. He draws an X through Friday and jumps back in bed. "Get some sleep," his mom says. "Tomorrow's the big day." He closes his eyes and does his best to sleep through the night. He ends up waking up every few hours to check the time.

Cassius gets up early the next morning. He grabs his notebook and sits down to a bowl of grey Fruit Loops his mom poured for him. She caresses the top of his head and asks how he's feeling. He thinks for a second and says, "Good." She does her best to keep the kids busy by helping her clean up around the house. Every few minutes Cassius asks if it's time yet. Every time she says, almost.

At 5:50 pm after Cassius has taken out the trash and cleaned his room his mom finally calls him into the kitchen. He grabs his notebook and flies through the door. She pulls a chair out for him which he climbs in a flash. She puts her phone on the table next to him. He flips through the pages of his notebook while he waits. He stops at a picture of a kid playing soccer. After what feels like an eternity the phone rings. Cassius nearly jumps out of his chair. He almost drops the phone turning it over in his hand. Two blinking circles appear at the bottom of the screen. The one on the left reads, DECLINE. The one on the right reads, ACCEPT. He knows one is green and the other is red, but right now they both look grey. He presses ACCEPT, and holds the phone to his ear. He's been through this routine before. He knows he still has to get through the the robot voice before anything interesting happens. "This call is from an inmate at a Michigan Correctional facility. To accept this call please press 1." He presses 1. "This call may be monitored and recorded. Thank you for using GTL.”

After a few seconds of silence a voice on the other end says, "Hello?" He knows the voice well.

The picture in his notebook shimmers.

"Cassius?"

"Dad!"

His dad's voice leaps with excitement, "There's my boy?! Man I missed you!”

The grey grass in the picture flickers green.

"I missed you too," says Cassius.

"What happened with your game last week?" asks his dad.

"Guess?.." asks Cassius. He doesn't wait for him to answer. "We won, 5 to 2." The uniform in the picture goes from a dull grey to a vibrant red. "And I scored the last goal!"

"Oh my goodness. That's awesome Cash. I'm so proud of you."

The colors begin to spill out from the notebook. They run across the mahogany table. The placemats turn a blinding yellow, and the napkins take on a sweet orange color.

"And how's school going?" his dad asks.

With each exchange the colors spread. Before long it's everywhere: the walls, the door, the pictures on the refrigerator, the food in the pantry. Cassius tries to remember every little detail for later. What he doesn't know is that, for the last few months, the same things has been happening on the other end of the phone. There's not much color to be had in prison, but on every other Saturday his dad watches his grey prison pants slowly turn a deep blue, and the stripes that run down the legs become bright orange.

The two of them smile the same smile at the exact same time, each one believing that they're alone in this strange little miracle. Both are afraid to tell anyone what they see. They talk about everything they can think of during the fifteen minute phone call, except the explosion of color unfolding around them. Their hearts swell as they watch their worlds transform. The time passes in a blur.

Before they know it they're interrupted by the robot, "You have one minute remaining." Cassius's dad does his best to squeeze in as much as he can in the last few seconds. He tells Cassius to be a good person, to help his mom, to be nice to his sister, and to do his homework. Cassius says he will, and he tells his dad how much he misses him and how much he loves him. Before the robot ends the call his dad says, "I'm gonna be home before you know it Cash. I love you, more than anything. You're my son, and you're always on my mind. Whenever you feel like you're alone or struggling I want you to take a deep breath, quiet your mind, and just listen. If you concentrate hard enough you might even be able to hear my voice. I want you to remember I'm always with you, and your sister, and your mom, even without a phone. Give mom a hug for me, and tell your sister I'll call her tomorrow. And remember, I love—

"Thank you for using GTL." The robot always gets the last word.

The phone cuts off. Cassius says, "I love you too." He wonders if his dad can hear him.

After the calls Cassius can hardly ever remember what they actually talked about. The feeling, that's easy to remember.

The feeling is love.

His mom comes in the kitchen and kisses the top of Cassius's head. She asks how it went. He thinks for a second and says, "Good." The walls, and the table, and the napkins, and the place mats, all fade back to their individual shades of grey. It feels like his heart does the same.

As he climbs down from the table something catches his eye. It's his notebook. He stops and rubs his eyes, to make sure he's not hallucinating. He takes another look. His eyes go wide. The grass in the picture looks as if it has a greenish hue. Could it be?

He grabs the notebook and races up to his room. He shuts the door and sits down in front of the window. He closes his eyes and does his best to concentrate. After a few moments he hears what sounds like a whisper. He slowly opens his eyes. He knows it could just be his imagination, but the world outside looks a little less grey than usual. The light from the sun looks almost yellow. The fire hydrant across the street might even be red. He closes his eyes again and listens. Even if it is all just in his head, he's grateful, because for the first time in a long time he can feel his dad without using a phone. He wonders if his dad can feel it too. He hears his dad's words, "I'm always with you."

Cassius gets up and walks over to the calendar. He flips through its pages until he finds one that reads: DADDY COMES HOME!!! He reaches in his desk and grabs the first crayon he sees. He circles the words three times. He knows it might just be his mind playing tricks on him but circles look red. But what if they really are red? He could check the paper sleeve wrapped around the crayon to see what color it actually is. But what of it says BLUE, or ORANGE, or any other color other than RED? A part of him wants to rip the paper sleeve off and just throw it away so he can keep seeing the colors. But what if they're real? He remembers what his dad told him, so he closes his eyes and listens. And maybe it's just his imagination again, but he hears the faintest whisper behind his ear. It says, "I'm always with you." It sounds like his dad. He opens his eyes and decides to look down at the crayon. He rolls it in his fingers until he reads three little letters: R-E-D. Maybe it's not all just in his mind. A smile spreads across his face. Maybe the world still has a little magic in it if you know where to look. He opens his notebook and, in bold red letters, he writes, "I can't wait to tell dad about this."

Maybe, even if you're color blind, love and hope and a little imagination are just enough to color the world.