Part Trois ...

The next day he woke to the smell of bacon and scrambled eggs. His mother had awakened early and began cooking. As he got out of the bed the dog ran in his room barking and giddy as usual. The sun had brightened their house and for once everything seemed right. His father had already left for work and from the looks of it he had missed the huge breakfast his mother was preparing. She smiled when she saw him confused, standing in the kitchen door. “I figured you would be hungry, and you never eat breakfast, you know they say it’s the most important meal of the day”, his mother nervously chattered. He didn’t question her, so as not to spoil the moment. He walked to the seat where she had made a plate and sat down. The food was still hot and the glass to his right was full with orange juice. He was so confused and puzzled he couldn’t keep it to himself anymore, he had to know what was going on with his mother. “What is this?” He didn’t mean to come off as rude, but he didn’t know what to think. One moment his mother was depressed and pitiful dragging herself around the house; the next she was a transformed Martha Stewart full of life and energy. She pulled biscuits out of the oven, placed them on the counter and walked over to him. She sat down and wiped her forehead. She glazed at him. She was thinking deeply. She explained that they would be moving in with her sister and she would begin looking for a job. When his father finally came home from his “vacation” he had told his wife that he would be leaving her, and that she had to leave by the end of the week. She informed him that his father would leave until they got out and didn’t want to have anything to do with them. “It’s just you and me now” she bluntly stated. She didn’t sound shock, or upset. The only worry on her face was ‘what’s next’. He chewed his bacon and thought about what this meant. No more relentless long nights of dealing with his father. No more watching his mother disintegrate into nothing. This did mean leaving the comforts of his home. The only place he ever lived, this was where he was raised. This meant living with his Aunt Marilyn, a kind and beautiful woman. She did live in the projects though and her house was the roasting pot for the entire family. Aunts and cousins flocked in and out of the house because of how close everyone was. When his mother married his father many women in the family stopped speaking to her out of envy. They were all envious to the comfortable lifestyle his father laid out for his mother while their husbands stayed unemployed and working odd end jobs. Aunt Marilyn stayed close to his mother and was always there for her whenever it was needed. Moving into Aunt Marilyn’s house would bring along drama and conflict he was certain, but he’d rather be surrounded by family than cut off by an uninterested father. He finished his food and helped his mother pack up all of her scattered things from around the house. He hadn’t much to bring, clothes and shoes and posters of his favorite skaters and rappers. She planned on leaving the next afternoon, after brunch she said. He lay in his bed looking at the ceiling thoughts cascading through his brain. He couldn’t get his face out of her head, or her voice. He grabbed his board and went out. His mother was tiding up the living room and drinking. She smiled at him and reminded him that they had a long day ahead of them tomorrow. As he skated down the street letting he let himself escape in the breeze. She was already sitting there when he arrived anxiously. As he walked up she stood. “I have something to show you” was all she said. He followed her; she grabbed his hand and tugged as if to inform him he was moving too slow. He hadn’t known the girl for long but he dreaded telling her that within day he would be leaving to the other side of town and probably wouldn’t be seeing her anytime soon. They walked for hours it felt, and all he wanted to do was sit down and talk to her. She stopped dead in her tracks. In front of them was a small spring with a beat down wooden bridge crossing it and a bench off to the side. The sun was setting and the scene was beautiful. He was glad that she had brought him there, but hated the fact that this might be his last time ever there. Her eyes looked tired but her smile was still bright. After a few moments of silence, he broke them with the heavy words of his current situation. She showed little expression, but he could feel her intense energy. She had been used to being left and abandoned, he could tell by the look in her eyes. He immediately pulled out his cell phone and blatantly told her that he needed her number. She rolled her eyes as if to blow him off but she knew he was serious and wouldn’t give up. She looked flustered and told him that he didn’t need it because he would never use it. As the words rolled off her tongue she knew they weren’t true but she felt open and her guard was definitely down. She recited her number to him, and he repeated it back to make sure that they were correct. He flashed her smile and once again she melted. They talked for a couple hours. The moon’s reflection was clear in the night water and the sounds of insects and running water was calming. With him moving to the other side of town, their friendship would be tested. Neither one of them realized that soon they would be all each other had and that their friendship was just beginning.