Walkabout Then Back Home

Out in the fairly warm October air, Nick glanced up and down the road in front of the house. Turning to his left, he set a purposeful stride, strolling through the neighborhood toward the sun settling out over the ocean in the west, lighting the sky on fire. There were so many houses, virtually indistinguishable from the rest. He understood now why Calista has teased about getting lost. On the surface, she seemed well meaning and intentioned and he knew he was being kind of a dick but he didn’t know how else to express his frustrations. He would grad in just over eight months, so why couldn’t they have just let him be? Why did they have to do this thing and drag him out here? Was it spite? His father’s way of sticking it to his mother? Why hadn’t she fought harder to intervene? These questions rattled around the interior of his mind as he walked, hands buried in his pockets.

After a while, he stopped to assess his surroundings, realizing he had covered a fair bit of distance. Turning around, he retraced his steps. By the time he returned home, the sun had been swallowed by the sea, orange sky surrendering to magenta stars speckling the eastern horizon.

Ascending the stairs at the front of the house, the door opened before he could take the knob in his hand.

“There you are,” Marty said, smile on his face as he held the door open.

Nick nodded, “Yep, no drive by shootings or LA turf wars,” he said sarcastically, removing his runners.

Marty chuckled, “We usually don’t see any of that out this way,” he assured.

Nick looked to the stairs leading down, then back to his father, “I guess goodnight then,” he mumbled.

“Oh, another thing,” Marty said, recognizing he was in the way, “I’ll take you into school tomorrow if you could be ready by quarter to eight? That would be great. There’s cereal and stuff in the kitchen if you want to make yourself something to eat in the morning,” he added.

Nick smiled disingenuously, “Swell,” he replied, sidling passed Marty into the house.

“Anything else I can get you?” asked his dad, closing the door after the boy had entered.

“Not unless it’s a plane ticket back to The Land of 10,000 Lakes,” Nick replied, shaking his head and vanishing down the stairs and into the shadowed hall.

Marty frowned but said nothing, knowing only time and support could possibly bring the boy around. Knowing how delicate and fragile currently Nick was, he didn’t have the heart to tell the lad it was his mother that had voluntarily surrendered custody, struggling with her own demons. Shaking his head, he climbed the stairs and joined Calista in the TV room.

Entering his room, Nick flicked on the light and closed the door. Crossing the room to the night table and the lamp, he could hear muffled sounds coming from the room directly above his, female voices, something else, TV, music maybe. It was indistinct and annoying.

Scowling, he clicked on the lamp before returning near the door and shutting off the overhead light and then grabbed his iPod from the desk. Pulling the duffle bag off his bed, he put the headphones in and turned on the device, Natalya Kills Problem mid song, as he sat on the side of the bed.

Setting the alarm clock for 5:30am, he threw his feet up on the bed and closed his eyes. He definitely was not looking forward to going to school in the morning. Being the new kid absolutely sucked. Then there was Asha. There was no doubt in his mind that she was one of the school’s queen bees. A girl that looks like she did, same as her friend TJ, no chance they weren’t the ones who held sway over the court amongst the school’s ‘in’ crowd. What kind of reception had she prepared for her new stepbrother? Was he to be left to make his own path? Or had she set it up for him to be shunned like an interloper into her space, a pariah? He didn’t know. One thing for sure he did know though, was the first kid to mouth off and he would hang an epic hockey style beating on him, definitely rattle some teeth and make a lasting impression on anyone else who wanted to poke fun at the new guy. He really didn’t care if he got suspended or not, but he sure wasn’t going to let anyone take liberties. All he had to do was make sure the other kid threw the first shot. Just one.

He wondered how his mother was doing, alone back in Minnesota, a pang of homesickness in his gut as he thought about her. He could tell the divorce was having a profound effect on her, the way she withdrew into herself in the last while. Turning off the iPod, he slid his hands up under his head. It was a lot of change to process, for her, for him. A small consolation, at least he wasn’t still stuck on the bus with the odiferous snoring drooler sitting beside him. He was glad that guy was only along for a short leg of the trip.

There was still a bunch of noise coming from the room overhead. Frowning, he stood up on the bed and thumped his fist against the ceiling, “Keep it down!” he bellowed, lying back down on the top of the bed.

His protest was immediately met with silence, followed shortly thereafter by a sequence of three loud thudding noises, sounding like stomps near the center of his ceiling.

He glared up at the ceiling, frown etching lines into his face. “Really?’ he seethed, slight shake of his head.

After another pause, there was muted giggling, distinctly girly and feminine. It had to be Asha and TJ.

“Fuck,” he muttered under his breath. Letting out a long exasperated breath, he decided this was not a fight he needed to pursue, so he turned his iPod back on, greeted by Elle King’s Ex’s and Oh’s, before clicking off the lamp. Closing his eyes, he was able to blank out all the noise of the world.

The bed under him was very comfortable, maybe a tad too soft, but overall not bad for new accommodations. Weariness, both physical and psychological taking their toll on him, he slowly drifted off to sleep.