It was a dark and stormy night. A young boy stood at his bedroom window, his ear pressed against the cold, smooth glass. He liked to listen to the spattering sound the rain made. But mostly, he liked to look at the mark his ear left on the glass after he pulled away. He’d run his index finger around the edges of the mark, and as he’d do this, his mind would begin to wander, wander to a place far away, where green valleys seemed to go on forever and sheep gently grazed. This place was called Hollister, and actually, it was only about thirty minutes away. Why this boy thought of such a boring place is beyond anyone’s knowledge. Perhaps he was just a fucking idiot, an idiot named Earnest.
At school, Earnest wasn’t very popular. The kids would always tease him and call him “Ear.” This was because while other children were out doing fun things during recess, such as playing kickball or selling drugs to the teachers, Earnest would spend his entire break with his ear pressed up against the classroom window—even if it wasn’t raining. Seriously. This was one weird-ass kid.
When the children weren’t occupying their time kicking balls or selling smack, they would often torment young Earnest. They’d bang on the glass, yell, even pull his hair, but Earnest never budged. After a while, the kids got bored and just chose to ignore the child, which suited Earnest just fine. And that’s pretty much how it went. Until one day, when a new student arrived.
Her name was Maybee and she was from “the lend dan unda.” She was a somewhat attractive girl, with a freckly face and long, blond hair. But since she spoke with a funny accent and used weird words and phrases like “mate” and “cool beans,” the children at school weren’t very nice to her. They often called her names, like “Crocodile Maybee,” which made no sense, since they were all too young to even know who Paul Hogan was. Still, it was a pretty funny name and even the teachers would snicker a bit when they heard the kids use it.
As you might imagine, Maybee (pronounced just the way it looks, but for some reason, she pronounced it “MYbee”) did her best to fit in with the other kids. At lunch, she tried to share her Dunkeroos with her classmates, but none of the children were interested in dipping cookies into frosting. One of the kids did accept a bite of her Violet Crumble candy bar, however, but soon regretted it. Honeycomb and chocolate? Bleh.
Eventually, Maybee gave up trying to befriend any of the cool kids and turned her attention to Earnest. Oh yes, she was well aware of Earnest. After all, it was kind of hard to ignore a child standing with his ear pressed against the window. She became fascinated with the young boy. What was he listening to? Why wouldn’t he talk to the other children? Maybee was determined to find out the answers to these questions, as well as “Why is the sky blue?” That one always perplexed her. She started by just trying to strike up a conversation:
“G’day, mite.” Maybee said.
Earnest did not reply.
“Why do ya ‘ave ya ear prissed up’n the gless?” Maybee asked.
Again, there was no reply.
“Ya wanna bite of me Dunkeroos?”
Earnest just continued to stare off into space, his ear pressed up on the gless, I mean glass. And Maybee, she just stood there next to him and watched. Eventually, the other kids started to notice this attempt at interaction and they began to gather around the two weirdos. Maybee wasn’t sure what to do. The kids began to sing a song about Earnest and Maybee sitting in a tree, K-I-S-S-I-N-G. Why it was more humiliating to be in a tree while kissing wasn’t clear. Perhaps it implied that they had the brains of birds. Anyhow, the singing seemed to get louder and louder. Maybee looked at Earnest and suddenly she knew what to do. She turned to face him and pressed her ear against the glass. For a while, she just stood there and chewed on her Dunkeroos. But then she stopped and smiled. And that’s when it happened. Their eyes met and for the first time that day, Earnest smiled, too. Not a huge smile, mind you, but it was there. His eyes crinkled ever so slightly and his lips turned up at the corners. And then Maybee spat her Dunkeroos in his face and punched him in the stomach. The children cheered, high five-ing Maybee. Earnest couldn’t believe what just happened. He lied there on the floor, doubled over in pain, and watched as Maybee walked off with her new-found friends who suddenly really liked Dunkeroos. Earnest closed his eyes to escape.
Later that night, a terrible storm hit the town. The rain came down in endless sheets. As Earnest stood at his bedroom window with his ear pressed against the cold, smooth glass, a tear trickled down his cheek. But this was not a tear of sorrow. It was a tear of joy. For outside of Earnest’s window were all his classmates, hogtied and crying, getting drenched by the endless downpour. The bedroom door opened and Maybee entered, all bundled up in a yellow rain slicker dripping with water. She pulled back her hood and leaned against the glass, running her finger gently down the bridge of Earnest’s nose. Earnest smiled.
“Thank you,” Earnest said.
“My pleazya” Maybee replied.
Earnest moved his head away from the glass and together he and Maybee traced the edges of his ear mark. And as they did this, they held hands and watched the children outside crying, crying and shivering, during that dark and stormy night.
