Man, this shower felt good and damn, did I need it. I must’ve scrubbed for a good 20 minutes. I stepped out of the shower, grabbed a big beach towel off the wall, and looked at myself in the mirror.
What was I doing? What did I think I could accomplish? I didn’t have any real chance at finding Chris, and in reality there wasn’t really anything I could do to help. For some reason, though, I couldn’t just LET it happen. I needed to do something. I glanced at myself in the mirror and mumbled, “What you need to do is get a haircut, you afro-puff motherfucker.” A shave was next, but at the moment Amy didn’t have any men’s shaving equipment in the house. I’ll have to take care of that before I see the folks. Clothes would need replacing as well. I had talked to Amy for awhile and discovered some interesting information. None of which actually surprised me, though.
My parents figured that I’d show up again sooner or later. They had a whole plan in mind. All I had to do was consent to taking a couple new drugs that would help me with the bipolar shit and they would pretty much “babysit” me, at least until I was able to handle some sort of regular life again. Sure would be nice. I actually wasn’t sure how possible that was. Hell, I had just killed a guy because I couldn’t control my actions. How would I be able to go to a job, day in, day out, and still be able to function? Amy’s voice broke me out of my daydreaming...
“Kevin! Your mom’s on the phone! Pick up the extension in the bedroom!” Mom. Boy. This would be hard. I walked out of the bathroom and looked at the phone sitting on the bedside table.
Next step to a new life.
Next step to getting rid of you.
I picked up the receiver and went blank.
“Kevin? Is that you, baby?” I could sense the emotion in her voice.
“Yeah, Mom. I’ve missed you.” I could hold back the tears for mom.
“Kevin....baby....your father was so happy to hear that you’re back. He’s at work, but he’s going to call over there in a few minutes,” I knew she wouldn’t last long, and then it came: the crying. “Oh, Kevin, I’ve missed you so much, baby. We love you so much. We wished day in and out that you would come back.”
Why DID you run away, Kev?
You.
“Well, I’m back, Mom.”
“Baby, you’re going to....” I knew what she was getting at. I told her the truth.
“Mom, I’m not sure. I haven’t really thought about it yet. I’ll let you know. I came back for Chris, not for you or Dad or Amy or anybody. I came back for my son.” She was balling now. I couldn’t really handle much more of this. I never really could stand Mom crying.
“Mom, I’ll see you soon. I’m going to hang up now so Dad can get through.” Sure, Amy had caller waiting, but I wasn’t going to cry, not for Mom.
“Okay. I love you, Kevin.”
“Same here, Mom.” I didn’t have to act sincere when said THAT. I hung up. I realized that I was still naked and wondered what I would do about clothes for the time being. I REALLY did not want to put those smelly clothes back on. “Amy?”, I shouted downstairs.
“Yes, Homeless Boy?” Damn sarcasm. She always had a full tank of that shit.
“What the hell should I wear?”
“Put on one of my robes for the time being,” she shouted. From the tone of her voice I guessed that wasn’t a happy notion for her. I opened the closet and rummaged around, trying to find suitable attire. I settled on a white terry cloth robe that looked like it had been taken from a cheap motel. Did I mention she was also quite frugal? I marched down the stairs in my new outfit. Amy came out of the kitchen and looked me up and down. I held out my arms in question.
“Denzel Washington, you’re not,” laying on more sarcasm as she walked back in to the kitchen.
“I don’t care, I was trying for Karl Malone,” I replied haughtily as I followed her, following the scent of pancakes I could feel wafting from somewhere in the kitchen. I discovered that my nose had not deceived me as I spied a big stack of golden brown flapjacks on a plate on the counter.
“I figured you would be hungry,” she smirked as she watched my eyes grow in anticipation of the fine meal I HOPED was for me.
“Thank you, Amy,” I spoke almost solemnly.
“Kevin, what did you expect. You’ve been gone for years. We all missed you. It wasn’t OUR choice for you to leave. It was yours. Everything could’ve been worked out. You never listened to us though. What did you expect to happen when you finally came back?” Her little tirade took me off guard. I wasn’t really listening, anyway. I was maneuvering the cakes on to a plate.
“I couldn’t handle life, Amy,” I spoke quietly as I sat down at the kitchen table and looked around for syrup.
“Kevin.....you weren’t expected to....you know that. We would’ve taken care of you!” She sounded somewhat sympathetic as she handed me a bottle of maple syrup.
“I’m not a baby, Amy.” I was digging in to my pancakes with a fork and knife. I didn’t really want to talk about this at the moment.
Do you ever?
“Kevin, we knew....we understood....” I cut her off.
“NO ONE KNOWS, AMY!” I screamed at her, “NO ONE KNOWS!”, I wanted to cry. I couldn’t though. There wasn’t going to be any crying. Not yet.
“Okay, Kev, just eat your pancakes.” She said it the same way they did at the hospital. The same exact way. Right now, it sounded like a good idea though. I finished wolfing down the pancakes as the phone rang. Amy walked over to answer it. She simply said, “Hello,” and then a few seconds later, “That’s fine,” and then hung up. “That was your dad.”
“Why didn’t he ask for me?” I wondered.
“Because he’s coming over.” She smiled as she said it. Lots of people smile when they talk about my dad.
“He works in Stockton though.” Its a small port city about an hour away from Sacramento.
“He dropped everything and started heading over here when he heard you were home.”
Nope, I knew I couldn’t avoid crying for long.
It’s okay.
Because Dad always makes it okay.
What was I doing? What did I think I could accomplish? I didn’t have any real chance at finding Chris, and in reality there wasn’t really anything I could do to help. For some reason, though, I couldn’t just LET it happen. I needed to do something. I glanced at myself in the mirror and mumbled, “What you need to do is get a haircut, you afro-puff motherfucker.” A shave was next, but at the moment Amy didn’t have any men’s shaving equipment in the house. I’ll have to take care of that before I see the folks. Clothes would need replacing as well. I had talked to Amy for awhile and discovered some interesting information. None of which actually surprised me, though.
My parents figured that I’d show up again sooner or later. They had a whole plan in mind. All I had to do was consent to taking a couple new drugs that would help me with the bipolar shit and they would pretty much “babysit” me, at least until I was able to handle some sort of regular life again. Sure would be nice. I actually wasn’t sure how possible that was. Hell, I had just killed a guy because I couldn’t control my actions. How would I be able to go to a job, day in, day out, and still be able to function? Amy’s voice broke me out of my daydreaming...
“Kevin! Your mom’s on the phone! Pick up the extension in the bedroom!” Mom. Boy. This would be hard. I walked out of the bathroom and looked at the phone sitting on the bedside table.
Next step to a new life.
Next step to getting rid of you.
I picked up the receiver and went blank.
“Kevin? Is that you, baby?” I could sense the emotion in her voice.
“Yeah, Mom. I’ve missed you.” I could hold back the tears for mom.
“Kevin....baby....your father was so happy to hear that you’re back. He’s at work, but he’s going to call over there in a few minutes,” I knew she wouldn’t last long, and then it came: the crying. “Oh, Kevin, I’ve missed you so much, baby. We love you so much. We wished day in and out that you would come back.”
Why DID you run away, Kev?
You.
“Well, I’m back, Mom.”
“Baby, you’re going to....” I knew what she was getting at. I told her the truth.
“Mom, I’m not sure. I haven’t really thought about it yet. I’ll let you know. I came back for Chris, not for you or Dad or Amy or anybody. I came back for my son.” She was balling now. I couldn’t really handle much more of this. I never really could stand Mom crying.
“Mom, I’ll see you soon. I’m going to hang up now so Dad can get through.” Sure, Amy had caller waiting, but I wasn’t going to cry, not for Mom.
“Okay. I love you, Kevin.”
“Same here, Mom.” I didn’t have to act sincere when said THAT. I hung up. I realized that I was still naked and wondered what I would do about clothes for the time being. I REALLY did not want to put those smelly clothes back on. “Amy?”, I shouted downstairs.
“Yes, Homeless Boy?” Damn sarcasm. She always had a full tank of that shit.
“What the hell should I wear?”
“Put on one of my robes for the time being,” she shouted. From the tone of her voice I guessed that wasn’t a happy notion for her. I opened the closet and rummaged around, trying to find suitable attire. I settled on a white terry cloth robe that looked like it had been taken from a cheap motel. Did I mention she was also quite frugal? I marched down the stairs in my new outfit. Amy came out of the kitchen and looked me up and down. I held out my arms in question.
“Denzel Washington, you’re not,” laying on more sarcasm as she walked back in to the kitchen.
“I don’t care, I was trying for Karl Malone,” I replied haughtily as I followed her, following the scent of pancakes I could feel wafting from somewhere in the kitchen. I discovered that my nose had not deceived me as I spied a big stack of golden brown flapjacks on a plate on the counter.
“I figured you would be hungry,” she smirked as she watched my eyes grow in anticipation of the fine meal I HOPED was for me.
“Thank you, Amy,” I spoke almost solemnly.
“Kevin, what did you expect. You’ve been gone for years. We all missed you. It wasn’t OUR choice for you to leave. It was yours. Everything could’ve been worked out. You never listened to us though. What did you expect to happen when you finally came back?” Her little tirade took me off guard. I wasn’t really listening, anyway. I was maneuvering the cakes on to a plate.
“I couldn’t handle life, Amy,” I spoke quietly as I sat down at the kitchen table and looked around for syrup.
“Kevin.....you weren’t expected to....you know that. We would’ve taken care of you!” She sounded somewhat sympathetic as she handed me a bottle of maple syrup.
“I’m not a baby, Amy.” I was digging in to my pancakes with a fork and knife. I didn’t really want to talk about this at the moment.
Do you ever?
“Kevin, we knew....we understood....” I cut her off.
“NO ONE KNOWS, AMY!” I screamed at her, “NO ONE KNOWS!”, I wanted to cry. I couldn’t though. There wasn’t going to be any crying. Not yet.
“Okay, Kev, just eat your pancakes.” She said it the same way they did at the hospital. The same exact way. Right now, it sounded like a good idea though. I finished wolfing down the pancakes as the phone rang. Amy walked over to answer it. She simply said, “Hello,” and then a few seconds later, “That’s fine,” and then hung up. “That was your dad.”
“Why didn’t he ask for me?” I wondered.
“Because he’s coming over.” She smiled as she said it. Lots of people smile when they talk about my dad.
“He works in Stockton though.” Its a small port city about an hour away from Sacramento.
“He dropped everything and started heading over here when he heard you were home.”
Nope, I knew I couldn’t avoid crying for long.
It’s okay.
Because Dad always makes it okay.