I watched the backyard tortoise, Themis, sit in the cool shade provided by our roof that hung over a certain area of our lawn. Her dusty grey rock of a shell has been home to her long before either of my parents. Oh, to be Themis. She could eat all the plants she wanted. I never actually knew how much she ate. I never went outside. My mom didn’t let me anymore. With the rumors of all kinds of people disappearing from the town, she didn’t want to risk me ending up in the newspapers. So I was left in what I thought was a spacious house that belonged to my hardworking dad, where the windows always let in breezes that’d kiss you goodnight before you sleep. Where during rainstorms, the ceiling let water through so you could play in muddy puddles while staying safe inside on the green and brown kitchen floor. Where the yellow wallpaper would smile at you in case you ever felt sad.

     I always believed that not all children were as lucky as me. The parents of the other children must not have cared that much, because I always saw Rosa and Ollie playing tag out by the curb, playing a bunch of games in broad daylight like they didn’t care about someone taking them. And their houses were never as cool as mine.

     Nonetheless, I still wanted to go outside, to see what all the fun was about. But my mom said I had to stick with the toys that I had.

     Every day, along with seeing Themis and Rosa and Ollie, I’d always see a man with a cane on the opposite side of the road. His cane was decorated with all sorts of markings. I could only recognize the English letters. On the top of the cane was a baseball-sized eye. It was the only eye belonging to the man that I could see because he wore a mask that covered where his eyes should be. He always held the cane in front of him in his gloved hands, covering the eye except during when he’d walk. Then, he’d bring his hands down just below the eye on the cane. The Cane Man, I called him.

     In the reflection of the kitchen window, I could see my dad sitting in the corner of the dining room. He stared blankly at the newspaper my mom handed to him before she went out to work. His beard was growing unevenly around his face. Maybe that’s why my mom stopped kissing him. She must’ve found it uncomfortable and scratchy.

     Movement from the Cane Man regained my attention. He pointed the tip of the cane, the eye, at me and used his free hand to beckon me. I held my breath, looked at my dad, then back at the Cane Man.

     “Dad?” I started slowly towards the front door. “Can I go outside?” The eye drew me in. I could only imagine all the things it has witnessed over the years. Much more than me. I was slightly jealous.

     “What did your mother say?” he grumbled, eyes still glued to his paper.

     I cracked the door open. “I’ll be back.” He didn’t respond. I took that as my chance to leave.

     I rushed out the door and ran across the street to meet the Cane Man. He didn’t move his head to look down at me. We stood in silence for a moment as I waited with an expectant look for him to speak.

     “Hello, sir,” I eventually said. “My name is Joseph Blackburn?” I hadn’t meant for my words to form a question, but I was uncertain of what the man wanted from me. It hadn’t dawned on me that the man couldn’t hear until I saw a blank spot on his face where his ears should’ve been.

     He gestured his hand to make a semicircle around me, so I looked around. Rosie and Ollie weren’t outside. The bushes seemed smaller and the sidewalk beneath my feet looked further away. All the greenery appeared duller than I remembered.

     “Mr. Blackburn,” a voice in my head said. I whipped my head back to find the Cane Man’s mouth filled with the eye from his cane. I no longer needed to look up at the man to see his face; it was right in front of me. “How does it feel?”

     “How does what feel?”

     “To see your surroundings differ from how you last recall.”

     “I hadn’t even noticed…” I kept moving my head in slow figure-eights to try to comprehend when everything outside my house lost its color–its joy. And my house itself was now a whole new entity. My house, I remembered, belonged to my dingy dad that always sat like a rejected school backpack in the corner of the room. Our windows were stuck, letting in the evening wind that froze our toes. Where during rainstorms, water could be heard seeping through the kitchen ceiling, creating a dirty pool of water on the moldy, wooden kitchen floor. Where the pale, yellow wallpaper clawed at you from the corners, lifting to reveal cold, concrete walls underneath. 

     “Let us go to the backyard,” The Cane Man spoke in my head, interrupting my thoughts. He waited for me to start walking so I could lead.

     “How did everything change?”

     “No, nothing changed.”

     “But you asked me about the change of my surroundings.” I swatted a fly that buzzed around my house’s trash bin on the side of the road.

     The man simply replied, “It is not the surroundings that changed.”

     “Well, why are we going to the backyard? What’s in there?”

     “A constant.”

     “What do you mean?” I kicked my legs higher, shaking off the dead leaves that began piling into my shoes once I started crossing the front lawn. The Cane Man never gave me an answer.

     I unlocked the side gate and pushed into the weeds that had taken over the yard. I moved the tall, itchy grass every time I stepped. The Cane Man had the luxury of wearing pants. 

     He instructed me to remain in the backyard so I can find whatever it is he wanted me to find. By the time the sun rose to the middle of the sky, beads of sweat stuck to my forehead and my eyes strained to keep looking amongst the thick weeds. Eventually, I trudged over to the little shade provided by the roof of the house. I almost sat in the grass until I noticed something was already occupying that spot.

     Themis sat bigger than I had last seen her. Her eyes squinted at me, giving a permanent, sullen smile. When I found her, I bent down to hold a hand out to touch her. Tears streamed down my face.

     "I'm outside," I breathed. "Everything looks so different so suddenly...I wish my mom had let me out more." I broke down and cried to the reptile at my feet over the times I had missed out on hanging with my friends and experiencing the world outside. I had been too blind to realize the passage of time.

     Themis just blinked at me, occasionally munching on the closest edible leaves near her. 

     After I finished my rant, she got up and started walking into the grass where I lost her, but I knew our one-sided conversation was done. The Cane Man’s eye returned back on his cane. He gave me a signal which I understood. I went into my house, packed a couple bags, then walked down a couple blocks to the bus stop for a bus to part me from my childhood home.