Blow My House Down

Chapter 35

The winter solstice came and went. Micky and I found ourselves on one train after the other to River City. It would take a few days to get there, so we bought 5 boxes of saltine crackers and a box of Pop Tarts. We weren't sure if it would sustain us, but we hoped for the best. Lord knows both our mothers would throw a fit if they saw what we were living off of. At least, I'd like to think my mother would care.

I realized Micky was a packing wizard because he had fit an unprecedented amount of science fiction novels in his bag. I didn't know how he fit any clothes, he had that many books. It was almost something out of a science fiction book itself.

As he dug deeper into the realm of science fiction, I studied his face. The lines of concentration etched in his forehead as he immersed himself in the world of intergalactic civil war. His eyes were slightly red from lack of sleep, and occasionally he'd rub his eyes then go back to reading. His hair was a sleepy mess, and he was starting to grow a beard. He looked like an innocent angel, but the beard made him look slightly more like a man and less like a 12-year-old fairy. That wasn't an insult -- in fact, it was a compliment. I had never met a man who could be so feminine and masculine simultaneously. The perfect balance, the perfect harmony.

It occurred to me that I often found myself looking at him, like he was one of the most fascinating things to observe. I was starting to realize I cared more than a friend. I could never say anything to him though. It would ruin what we had. He was sweet relief to the tired soul, but I was a goddamn mess.

When we arrived in River City after multiple connections on Christmas Eve, I was almost relieved to see my mother. Almost. Maybe it was the familiarity of being home, maybe it was regaining something I lost when I lost my father.

My mother wore the same face of displeasure as always -- but there was blank look in her eyes. Almost there, but not quite. So many almosts, I didn't where they ended or where to begin.

She greeted Micky coldly, giving him a curt nod and stern handshake. She greeted me hesitantly, like I was the one thing she couldn't stand to face. The one reminder of him. The one reminder of her mistakes. She managed to let some warmth seep into the squeeze of the hand she gave me.

Often times, I had violent mixed feelings about my mother. I felt the distance she put between us. I knew she loved me in her own way, but it wasn't good enough for me. Maybe that was selfish, but she was my mother. I got enough love from my father to last me a lifetime, but I wanted her love. I wanted her to look at me with the same love she afforded my father. Instead, I only got the loose change of her affection. The cradle of her hand and a squeeze. A part of her died with my father.

Back to the house we went. Back to the life I once had. Coming back to River City made me feel like time had rewound itself. I felt like a child, but I didn't feel safe like I once had. I always knew the world was changing, the world wasn't always safe, but River City had been like a cocoon. Nothing bad happened to me here. But I left the nest and it made me realize I had been living in a bubble my entire life.

I glanced over my shoulder at Micky sitting in the backseat, looking out the window at the snow drifting down around us. My mother got out of the car, quickly running inside to escape the cold. Micky climbed out and I followed suit. He pulled his luggage out of the trunk and handed me mine.

I looked up at the house. All the light had been sucked out of it when my father died. Or maybe it was just how I viewed the world now.

Someone's hand took mine in theirs. I looked down, then looked at Micky. He gave me a small smile.

"Are you okay?" Micky asked.

"It doesn't look the same," I said, studying the house. "Nothing's the same."