1

The Breath of Life

Benedict told me later that it was the curse that made him bad at making friends. But
before I even knew that, as a five year old kid I could tell he wasnt a people person. I wasnt
even sure he wanted friends. He would just sit in the corner of the classroom and sniffle. Pretty
soon all of us kids in Mrs. Persons class, learned to do our work without being distracted by the
sound. Day in and day out Benedict would sit in the corner and cry, cough, and shake. He told
me later that the curse was still growing then and thats why hed lasted so long in school. I dont
remember seeing anything unusual until suddenly one day Benedict collapsed to the ground. He
kept breathing in but he never breathed out and no one was sure why.
It was pretty cool though when the cops showed up, their bright carnival lights still
circling even when the cops were in the building. He got a Darth Vader mask and was carried out
to the carnival lights on a white bed with wheels. We all watched enviously from the window.
After that he became a quiet legend. Sometimes hed be seen at the grocery store or a park, and
those who saw him were revered by their kindergarten counterparts. But it wasnt until first
grade that I became part of the legend myself.
First grade had more homework, and since I lived out in the country closest to Benedict I
was charged with the task of taking Benedict his homework. For half the school year I never
even saw him. And then one day he was outside swinging and I stopped to watch him. He would
swing really high and jerk upwards on the chain. It confused me so I asked him what he was
doing. He regarded me with large amber eyes for several seconds before shrugging. My older
brother always tried to push me all the way around the bar. I said thoughtfully.
Did you make it? He asked.
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Nah my mom came out and yelled at us. Never got the chance. I said.
Benedict looked up at his brightly painted house. My moms upstairs. He said. She
wont be back down for a while. When his mom did come back down I had a black eye and
Benedict, a bloody forehead. Id tried to push him first, but had accidently pushed him right out
of the swing. Hed then pushed me into the vertical pole as he took a running start to try and get
some momentum. For the rest of first grade, Benedict and I would sit on the swings after school
and try to figure out how to do a 360, without getting caught.

Benedict figured out what was wrong with him in third grade. They think I have
asthma. Benedict said as he defeated Bowzer for the umpteenth time. I glanced at him quickly
before looking back at my own screen. Hed been going to a new doctor every two weeks or so
since the start of second grade. I dont have asthma. Benedict assured me.
You dont? I asked.
Nope. He said turning back to the screen to restart the game.
I waited but he didnt continue. So what do you have? I asked.
A curse, he said from the Gods, or fairies. Im not sure yet.
I set my controller down and stared at him. Huh?
Ive been cursed. I cant breathe when Im around a lot of people.
How do you know? I asked.
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Think about it. I always hyperventilate around large groups of people. I literally have
been cursed with the inability to be around people. Youve seen it. And besides all those stupid
inhalers they give me, they dont help. I just cant get air into my lungs.
So?
Keep up Nick. The doctors dont know what theyre talking about. When its the two of
us in your treehouse I breathe just fine, but at school, or the library, or parties I cant. I cant
take a single breathe until I leave. I think my lungs stop working all together. Ive been cursed
and weve got to figure out how to break the spell.
Do you remember who cursed you? I asked feeling the enormity of the task at hand
settle over me.
Well no. But well figure it out.

The curse followed Benedict very closely after we discovered it. Benedict like to call it
his shadow, and it made things difficult as we got older and wanted to go see movies, buy Pepsi
at the grocery store, or even walk down the street. We always had to be careful about what times
we went anywhere because Benedict liked breathing. We worked very hard to outsmart the curse
and Benedict hated all of it at first. His parents were thrilled that we were out of the house but
walking out in public bothered him; especially after we ran into his old Catholic Preacher.
Benedict had decided to stay out of churches since he still hadnt decided if God had
cursed him or not. He hadnt been to church in weeks and if his parents tried to make him go
hed fake an asthma attack. Not coming from an especially religious family myself it didnt
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bother me. But it bothered Father Mettle, or Preacher Meacher as he was called by all the
children. He had a habit of talking swiftly until his words ran together. The mayor had told him
to separate his words so as to be mediating preacher and not a meacher, and the nickname spread
like wild fire.
Preacher Meacher had come to talk to Benedicts family about his recent inactivity. And
it bothered him a lot that Benedict wasnt going to church. When we accidentally walked into
him as he walked out of the old folks home, Benedict and I cringed. Boys, He called us over.
Boys its been a long time since Ive seen either of you in church. I gave a half apologetic
shrug and hoped the subject would change.
Im sick. Benedict said preparing himself to walk around Preacher Meacher, but the
preacher grabbed his arm and looked him in the face.
Youve got to be careful Benedict. You dont want to get caught breaking the Sabbath
you know. Every week you must cleanse your soul or youll suffer the same damming fate as the
sinners in Hell. You dont want that do you? I both looked at him in awe. Preacher Meacher
was the only man I knew who could swear freely in public.
Benedict was less impressed however and squared his shoulders. What if God has
already dammed me sir? What if hes cursed me and its not worth my time to give Him a second
thought?
A look of panic appeared on Preacher Meachers face. Blasphemy, Benedict Johanson!
Your words are pure blasphemy. How dare you suggest that God isnt worth your time?
Preacher Meachers black shirt swelled with hot air and I groaned inwardly. I didnt want to
stand here for hours listening to him, even if he was going to swear. How could a young boy
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know the mind of God? He started. If God did curse you it would be because you pay Him no
mind. You must repent and come back to the fold of God, or I can promise you no mercy.
Benedict stared up at him completely frozen by the words.
I tried to roll my eyes as quietly as I could but Preacher Meacher turned on me anyway.
Or perhaps Benedict, your mind has been corrupted because you associate with the unsaved and
the unclean? He cast me a scathing glance.
I shower once a week. I protested. I looked to Benedict to back me up and it was then
that I noticed Benedict was choking. Hed turned very pale and made a gasping noise, and
stumbled back and off the curb, moving rapidly away.
Preacher Meacher frowned and reached a hand towards him. What on earth? He started
but I pushed his hand out of the way as I grabbed Benedict and began to quickly walk away.
Asthma attack. I apologized. Terribly sorry, well talk later. We waited until we were
out of sight and then booked it to the woods. It took Benedict a full thirty minutes to be able to
breathe normally again. It scared both of us because it normally didnt take so long for him to
calm down.
You dont think hes right do you? Benedict asked finally. What if I got it wrong and
Ive offended the Gods and now because of this stupid curse Im condemned to Hell? Im in
trouble Nick. There are too many people in Hell. Id never make it. Id suffocate and then what?
Can you die again? Am I going to spend all eternity dying and reliving to suffocate again
because of this curse?
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I only had more questions for him. Why couldnt you breathe when it was just the three
of us back there? Normally the curse kicks in around a lot more people.
Benedict could only shake his head. Maybe its getting stronger.

We tried to break the curse ourselves after that. We both wondered if it would go away, if
he could gradually adjust to a larger number of people. Wed tried the small candy shop on Main
Street, the old library two blocks down, and even the old drive-in theater that couples only went
to as an excuse to make out. Our results were always the same. At first he did all right but then
there would be about five people and the curse would get him and hed have to leave. We tried
for almost a year but after the incident, as Benedict called it, we gave up.
Wed been buying ice cream from old Mr. Grover, who liked to sell his wifes homemade
recipe. He always sold his ice cream for 35 cents cheaper than the drug store, so every kid in
town was a faithful follower of his. We thought wed finally caught him early in the morning
before everyone else, when seven or eight girls got us from behind. They surrounded us,
chattering about Kims new shoes and how ugly they were. Amanda Lockhart was there, with
her small nose and freckles. Benedict stared at her, his mouth open. It had been a long time since
the three of us were in Kindergarten together.
Hi. She said to him as she stepped forward to hand her money to Mr. Grover. Its
Benedict right? Benedict blinked and closed his mouth. Everyone turned to look at him waiting
to see if this was the famous and elusive Benedict Johanson.
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Benedict made a choking noise. You all right kid? Mr. Grover asked. Benedict
pounded a fist against his chest trying to activate his lungs. He dropped his cone of half melted
ice cream, and it splattered all over Amandas pants. She jumped back and squealed in protest. I
watched him run down the street towards the woods, as I tried to push my way out of the crowd
without dipping my ice cream in hair. I found him at home curled up with Harry Potter.
Sorry. I said.
He shrugged. Nah, I wouldnt want to be around a single one of them anyway. I could
tell he wanted to believe it.
We could go back for ice cream tomorrow. I suggested.
Benedict rolled his eyes. Right, so the curse can find me a prettier girl to cover in ice
cream? You know how I am. If the curse doesnt kill me through suffocation, Ill die from
embarrassment. Id nodded and let the subject drop. If Id dropped ice cream on Amanda
Lockhart I wouldnt have gone back out in public either.
Benedict spent a lot of time in my treehouse after that. The curse seemed to follow him
even more deeply. We were both certain we could see a shadow of it in his reflection. He was
mostly alone when I was in school, and some days even after hed been alone all day, I was one
to many people. Wed learned sign language to help in those situations. He grew pale and
listless. He read every fantasy, religious text, and mythology book he could get his hands on. I
helped when I could but we found little to help. His parents had to start taking him into the
doctors once a week to do breathing exercises, because he started having attacks when he was
alone.
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It wasnt until the last quarter of seventh grade that Benedict worked out the curse. It was
after Id had the unfortunate honor of being picked as the class representative to speak in an
assembly for the Mayor himself. I was supposed to talk about how good leaders need to have
good people skills and use an example from history to prove it. When my mother found out she
insisted that I go to the museum in hopes that I might learn actual useful knowledge. Id
argued that someday my life might depend on how well I could beat the Boss on Zelda and shed
rolled her eyes. Nick one of these days youll look up from your video games and notice a
theres a whole other world out there.
I rubbed my fingers together as I thought about the way some of the girls had nearly
jumped back into me when Benedict spilled his ice cream on Amanda. I stole a quick glance at
my mother. Theres nothing out there mom.
What about your friend Amanda? I jerked up a little too quickly for my liking.
What about her?
She and her little friends were over here the other day selling girl scout cookies. She
asked if youd like to come to church with her sometime.
When? My voice chose that unfortunate moment to squeak and my mother grinned.
I guess youll have to ask her that. I seem to have forgotten.
I gave her a deep glare of loathing and turned back to my video game my heart racing.
Amanda had asked about me. Maybe Preacher Meacher wasnt such a horrible guy after all. I
mean if Amanda could sit through church I certainly could. I moved the controller blankly as my
mind raced to catch up with what itd just heard.
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My mother sighed. Honestly Nickolas put down the games and get out of the house.
And take Benedict with you to the museum or at least the library. He at least will know what a
book looks like. She sent me from the house to do homework and Benedict and I, unaware of
the danger, walked to the museum of Ancient Life. We wandered, bored, passed the statue of
George Washington and Abraham Lincoln as we tried to find anyone of interest to give a report
on.
Benedict had just mockingly suggested I do it on Martin Van Buren after he noted the
president was called Blue Whiskey Van, because he drank so much, when we heard the
pattering of dropped items and voices coming around the corner. Benedict frowned heavily
before he realized the sound was a large group of people near us. The second he realized, he
grasped his chest and began to spin looking for an exit. I could see the curse taking affect as the
shadows in the room seemed to grow and sharpen. A bright tour guide brought the group right to
us. Good afternoon gentlemen, would you like to join this tour? Her bright red lipstick seemed
to have a voice of its own.
There was a choking gasp as Benedict reached for my shirt. I looked around and saw that
the room held least forty people. I could see the panic in Benedicts eyes as I realized he might
never have been around so many people before. Anxiously I turned trying to push past the high
kids. But the room was too small and people couldnt get out of the way. Move. I yelped in
frustration. My friend is sick move!
Sick? An adult suddenly asked. She was bossy, so she must have been a mother from
the school group. She grabbed Benedicts arm. Whats wrong honey?
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Benedict collapsed to the floor his fingers ripping at his chest as his mouth opened and
closed, he couldnt gasp because he was out of air. He began to speak to me in sign language.
The curse. He said. The curse is trying to kill me!
Call 911! Someone yelled in my ear. I jerked and looked around trying to orient the
doors. The bossy mother grabbed Benedicts arms and forced him to hold still. Benedict looked
up at me his eyes desperate. His fingers moved but I couldnt understand what he was saying.
Move! I yelled at the mother, trying to pull Benedict away. Its just asthma he needs
to get outside.
She unhooked my hand and glared at me. Young man you are not a doctor. I have been
certified in CPR, and I can clearly see your friend does not have asthma. But dont worry hell be
just fine. She began to pump his chest with her hands and Benedict paused sincerely puzzled by
her actions.
Are you sure thats how its done? The tour guide questioned. There was a crowd
gathering around us. Great, just what Benedict needed, an audience.
Of course. The bossy mother sniffed. And now I shall save his life.
We laughed about it later; the mouth to mouth thing she did. Benedict said it would have
been such a good idea if shed been pretty. But she was old and ugly, so he said he didnt enjoy
the experience. Benedict said though it would have been more disturbing to see her give him
mouth to mouth, but Id disagreed and said that having to receive mouth to mouth from her,
would have only been preferable to breaking every bone in your body; twice.
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I stared for a good four seconds as she forced air into his lungs before she pulled back
and wiped her mouth. Benedict lay stock still watching her. His eyes were wide and she patted
his shoulder. Trust me, I can save you. She informed him.
Thats not how CPR goes. Someone protested. Get out of the way. Hes not even
unconscious. People began to agree and the volume of the room escalated. If I didnt move
quickly the curse was going to take my best friend.
I blinked only once before pointing into the crowd and screaming at the top of my lungs,
Fire! The crowd turned with one breath, and I shoved the bossy adult into them, dragging
Benedict to his feet. He was limp, face blue. My arms burned as I dragged him to the boys
bathroom with a couple adults hot on my heels. People peeled around them to get out of the
building as I slammed the bathroom door and locked it. Curled up in the back stall Benedict
heaved for air his eyes shut tightly. I stood back giving him his space.
We could hear someone yelling at us but Id locked the door and she couldnt get in. I
watched Benedicts face waiting. Id never seen the curse leave his face and I wanted to catch it
this time. But in the ten minutes it took for the mechanic to unlock the door and the doctor to
arrive I didnt see anything of interest. Benedict was on his feet, pale, but I certainly hadnt seen
the curse leave. We both denied that anything had happened, saying it was an asthma attack and
providing an inhaler as evidence. We left them muttering about incompetent adults trying to be
doctors, and left the building through the back door accidentally setting off the fire alarms. Of
course the fire trucks were already there, so it wasnt a big deal.
As we walked home the long way to avoid the city, I stole glances at Benedict. He hadnt
said a word since leaving the museum. I could hear him breathing normally and it was a
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comforting, but finally I couldnt stand the silence anymore. Do you ever want to go back? I
asked nodding towards the city.
Nope. He said immediately, his voice stronger. Think about all those germs and idiots
who wander all over. They ought to require permits to protect the public.
I let that sink in before hesitantly asking, But what about going to school? Dont you
want to move to college or be on a sports team, or anything? You cant. Not after that. The curse
will kill you the second you try. Dont you feel angry or anything?
He shrugged. No. No Id rather be alone anyway, besides how do you breathe around all
those people Nick? What could possibly be life-giving about all those people and crowds and
ideas attacking you all at once?
I shrugged. I dont know, I just do. Ive never thought about it.
But if youve never thought about it, how do you know youre really breathing then?
It was my turn to laugh. Benedict, part of breathing is forgetting youre breathing. How
do you know youre breathing if youre so aware of it?
He shrugged as we came to the crossroads behind his house. I guess I never caught my
breath to begin with. Then he paused. But Nick Im wondering, is it really a curse to be by
yourself and enjoy your own company?