Jack makes his way to my dad. They hug and say annoying things about how it's been too long. Bullshit lies that adults tell each other. Jack and my dad have grown apart. I am not sure whose fault it is. I mean, my dad can't keep his word to anyone and Jack has cut ties with the rest of the human race. To tell the truth, I am surprised that Jack would even agree to letting me stay here considering how disconnected he is from my family.
He turns to me and offers a handshake. I let out a small laugh and slide the strap of my backpack into his open hand. His mouth curls under at the edges and a small twinkle in his eyes seem to dim.
Before I step by him to go to the trunk, I can't help but notice all of the gray that has overtaken Jack's beard and hair. He has gotten old—or is it just the mountain man look?
As I climb the porch stairs, I notice what poor shape the cabin is in. Missing planks on the floor of the porch make it easy to see to the ground. Almost all of the shutters are hanging on by the last of their strength—some already gave in and are lying beside the house on the ground and scattered on the front porch roof. The glowing yellow paint now looks terrible up close. It's peeling and cracking everywhere. I guess the nostalgia that hit me on the way up the driveway blinded me from seeing these things. Frankly, the place looks like a shit hole.
Perfect. Could there be a better metaphor for my life right now?
Right before I step inside, I feel my heart sink a bit when I see the remains of the old swing resembling Stonehenge in the corner of the porch.
Suddenly, I am young again. Jack sings "Wild Horses" beside me on the swing. Mom and Dad are cuddled on the wicker loveseat. We drift back and forth dreamily, relaxing under the starry sky. It's just him and the crickets serenading us on a warm August night.
My parents couldn't be happier. I feel sleep taking over my body and mind as I swing softly, listening to Jack's deep voice. I feel the thick summer evening and smooth lyrics wash over me. My eyes close and his lullaby starts to fade out as I think about wild powerful horses being no match for Jack.
"Tyson?"
I am pulled back to the present realizing Jack is holding the screen door. I stare at him.
"You okay?"
"I'm fine! The place looks like hell froze over. Great job on the upkeep," I spit at him as I push past into the foyer of my childhood memories.