The Final Seven

Chapter 8

June 13th, 2014 - 3:14 P.M. 

After pulling into the driveway, we got out and loaded our arms with all of the items I had packed.  Underestimating my load, I stumbled on a clump of dirt, and fell to the ground. 

Cursing under my breath, Jason rearranged his gear and held out his hand for me to grab.  I had a quick flashback to the first time we had met, and he had helped me up from busting my butt.  This was becoming a habit around him. 

I grabbed his hand, and he pulled me up off the ground.  “Let me take some of that for you,” he requested. 

I handed him the majority of my items, until I was left with only the picnic basket in one hand, and the bag of snorkeling equipment in the other.  We walked around the side of the home, and made our way to the back of the house.  As we passed, I curiously looked inside one of the windows.  Though the glass was covered in years of dirt and grime, I could barely make out the furnishings of a family home. 

“Did you live here?” I asked directly.  I could see that most of the furniture had remained inside of the home.  Pictures were still hanging on the wall, and even the dishes had been left in the sink. 

Jason stopped in his tracks and turned back to me.  He was quiet for a moment, as if thinking of a response.  After a short silence he responded. 

 “It’s been years, but my family used to live here.”  His eyes wandered into the distance as he recalled his memories.  “This home used to be beautiful when we lived here.  My mother was an amazing florist.  We would have rows of different arrangements lining the side of our home.” 

He pointed to an old flower bed running along the side of the house.  The wooden braces were worn and cracking, with nails jutting out treacherously.  Vines and weeds had sucked the life out of everything that was once beautiful, and only the remains of withered roots littered the baked soil.  The vines continued to grow along the side of the house, weaving in different directions toward the sky. 

It was hard to imagine this house could have once been considered a home.  Even the walkway we traversed was laden with broken boards, and splinters the size of baseball bats. 

“Why did your family leave,” I asked him, as I tried to think of a reason why they would’ve stayed. 

Jason lowered his head to the ground and pretended to investigate a lizard crossing the path.  “We had to go somewhere else,” he said softly.  “Or at least that’s what my parents said. 

His soft tone turned into an angry growl.  “I asked my parents why.  Why did we have to go?”  He threw his hands in the air.  “All they said was that we couldn’t live here anymore.” 

His change of attitude startled me.  “I’m sorry, Jason.” 

He looked at me with pleading eyes.  “Why would my parents make me leave this place?  This was our home.  This place has all of my memories.” 

I stepped back in confusion while I watched Jason emotionally fight some invisible foe.  His voice was so full of hurt and confusion, and I couldn’t understand why.  Families move all the time.  What’s the big deal about leaving this place? 

Not wanting to put a dampener on our date, I changed the subject.  “Well don’t you have something else to show me?” 

Jason looked at me with a thankful expression in his eyes.  “Yeah, babe.  C’mon, and follow me.”  He turned and continued walking down the path, leaving his past behind him. 

Although it seemed completely inappropriate after his outburst, I cheered inside.  “He called me babe!”  I followed Jason down the path.