I looked down at my drawing I made in art class, checking it again and smiling as I admired my work. I yanked the paper down and charged towards the door. I swung it open and bounded in.
"Mama! Look what I drew in school!"
My cheeks ached as I smiled hard and held up the drawing. I waited for her to round the corner, gasp, and tell me how beautiful it was, but I didn't hear any of that. Instead, I heard clattering in the kitchen. My brows furrowed as I dropped my arm. My heart sank as I stared out at my empty living room. The couches, tv, and tables were gone.
"Mom?" I muttered. Another clash came from the kitchen. I walked down the hallway and turned the corner to see her ripping the silverware out of the drawer and shoving it in her bag. I cleared my throat and held up the drawing again.
"Mom, look what I drew in art class!"
She didn't look my way. My eyes drifted behind her where three huge suitcases lay. I smiled, excitement ripping through my body. Suitcases usually meant a trip to the beach. "Are we going to the beach?"
My excitement quickly dwindled as her narrowed eyes flicked to mine. My smile twisted into a frown. She didn't have to say anything. It all clicked for me then. At that moment, I remembered all of the screaming, all of the fighting that Mom and Dad would do. All the times, they swore to each other that they would leave. My heart sank, clashing to my feet and breaking into a million pieces. I glanced around the house again. She had taken the silverware, the pots, pans, clothes, furniture, everything she thought she was entitled to. I guess at the time, that didn't include me because she flung the bag of silverware over her shoulder, grabbed her suitcases, and started for the door. The drawing slipped from my fingers as I latched onto her arm.
"No, Mom! Don't leave!"
I curled my fingers around her arm, and she literally dragged me to the door. She threw it open and placed her stuff on the porch.
Tears burst through my eyes, and I shook her arm repeatedly.
"Mom, please! Please don't go!"
She shook her arm out of my grip and knelt down in front of me. She gently placed her hands on my shoulders. I sobbed as I stared at her, my tears blurring my vision, causing her to look like a blob of olive skin and black hair. She pressed her soft thumbs into my cheeks, wiping away my tears. "Why—why are you leaving me?"
Her face softened, her brows pulled back. She ran her fingers through my hair.
"I'm not leaving you," she said. She sighed and pushed me into her chest. I coiled my arms around her waist, sobbing into her chest. "When you're scared of doing something, you just have to do it scared, Miles."
I didn't say anything. I didn't know what to say to that. I didn't even know what she was talking about. She pulled away from me and planted a kiss on my head. The tears continued to stream down my face as she flashed a gentle smile my way and turned. I stood in my doorway, watching as she packed all of her stuff in the car and drove off. The bitter cold slammed into my body, reminding me of how my mother's warmth was taken away. My brows shot towards the ceiling as I remembered something. Dad. He could fix this. I slammed the door shut and rushed into my parent's bedroom. The only thing that occupied the space was Dad's dresser. The rest of the room was stripped bare. I rushed to his dresser and threw open the cabinet, grabbing the spare phone he kept in there for emergencies. I quickly typed in his number and waited for what felt like an eternity for him to answer.
"Hello?" came his voice.
"Dad!" I sobbed.
"Miles? Why are you using the emergency phone? Is everything okay?"
"M—Mom left! She took the whole house and left me!"
Dad sighed a long, drawn-out, exasperated sigh.
"I'll see if I can get off work, okay, bud? Right now, you just lock the doors and stay inside. I'll be home as soon as I can."
I did as he said, locking all of the doors and staying inside. I didn't know what else to do, so I kind of just...stood there in the empty living room, staring down at the matted carpet, letting the tears slip from my eyes. My stomach clenched and growled. I wandered into the kitchen and opened the fridge. It was completely bare except for tortilla shells and some cheese. I remembered Dad making quesadillas. I never made them, but I would watch him. It was just cheese and tortilla shells. It couldn't be that hard, right? I grabbed two tortilla shells and spread an unholy amount of cheese onto both sides. I put it on a napkin since there were no plates and finally put it in the microwave. Honestly, I wasn't even that hungry. Or maybe it was more that after what had just happened, my appetite left along with Mom. I guess I just needed something to do to take my mind off of what happened. Once it was done, I grabbed it and took it outside. The cold swallowed me in its icy embrace as I sat on the porch and waited for Dad to come home. I wished over and over that I would see Mom pull up in the driveway. That she would come back and say how sorry she was. That it was just some mistake or cruel joke and that she was actually staying, but deep down, I knew that would never happen. I knew that this moment was building for years. I just prayed that it would never happen. The day turned into night. The temperature was plummeting. Finally, I saw headlights cutting through the night, and Dad's car entered the driveway. I'll never forget the look on my dad's face as he stepped out of the car. His eyes were wide, a weird, indescribable mix between vacant and utterly sad. He slowly walked up to me, staring down at me with those big, sad brown eyes. My lips quivered as I held up the quesadilla to him.
"I made this for you," I said, my voice shaky as I tried to hold back the tears. He swallowed hard and sat down next to me. He curled his arms around me and pulled me into his side.
"Thanks, buddy," he whispered. Even though the quesadilla had long since grown cold, he ate it. Every last bite. We both just sat there for a long time, neither of us talking. I glanced up at him to see his eyes swelling with tears. His face was hard, his jaw clenched. I knew he was trying not to cry. I tried so hard not to either, but the tears kept slipping.
I let out a deep, shaky breath as I pull my mind from that memory. Thinking back on it makes me wish I had talked to my dad longer on the phone. I shouldn't have been such a douche. I should've told him I loved him. Or at least thank him for not abandoning me like Mom did. I bite my lip as my mind wanders back to that memory. I still, to this day, have no idea how, but she won custody of me. Then again, she was the breadwinner of the family, so I guess that helps. But she took me away from my dad and the rest of my family. Our family used to get together every weekend and have dinner. My best childhood memories stem from there. The weekend was always the best time of my life because of it, and she took all of that away from me. I barely got to see my dad, and I still haven't seen my Aunt Nancy, Uncle Austin, and cousin Daniel in years. My grandparents, yeah, haven't seen them in years either. I joined the Navy as soon as I turned eighteen, and my mom wouldn't let me leave her side until then.
I shake my head, trying not to think about it anymore. I glance out of the cave. I stare up into the sliver of black, glossy sky. If I'm gonna get out of here, I have to have a clear head. My heart pounds against my ribs as I stand and glance over at Akio. He still looks so freaking calm as he stands. I don't understand it. I get some people let stuff roll off their backs, but this is on a whole different level. I swallow hard as I start towards the mouth of the cave. I take in another deep breath and look at Akio.
"You ready?" I ask.
He nods. I try to swallow the lump in my throat as I push my hands through the snow. The snow crumbles to the ground. I glance up to see the moonlight shining through the thick trees. I pull my handgun from my holster and glance back at Akio.
"Keep your eyes open. Let me know if you hear the even tiniest of noises, okay?"
He nods.
I pull out my radio, seeing if being in the open would help at all. I pray it does; that way, I can avoid the death climb up the mountain. I press the button only to be met by static. I groan and shake my head. "No signal."
I lean my head all the way back to stare up at the mountain. My gut sinks as I stare at the high peak. Death climb indeed. There's only one way to get out of this tundra, though, and it's up that mountain.
"If we can get high enough, we should be able to get a signal."
Akio follows my gaze as he stares up at the mountain.
"Sounds like a plan, Binky."
I swallow the lump in my throat and start to push through the knee-high snow.
Remember your training, Binky. SERE. Survive, evade, resist, escape. You can do this, Bink. I can do this.