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Eight Years Old

Moving Day

The road was so long and Tommy had seen all the dust clinging to the humid air when it was daylight. It still choked at his lungs, even though he could not see it anymore. He wanted to cough, but he knew it already. It just made his throat feel worse.
They had been driving in the dark forever it seemed.
"Aunt Lynn?" he asked, looking up to her.
"Yeah, baby?" her voice asked back quick. It was so dark he could hardly make out anything besides the flash of white teeth and her curly, dyed blonde hair. Messy. Always messy like Momma's.
"This is really far away," he replied.
"Yeah, baby, I know. But you are gonna like it. It's where your Momma is from, you know?" She paused.
"Well, me too," she added a little laugh.
"I ain't ever even been there before," Tommy grumbled.
Aunt Lynn reached over, laying her arm across the long blue seat and let her fingers drag through his hair.
"I know, baby, I know," she sighed. "We will be there soon."

"Tommy, Tommy, Tommy," Aunt Lynn's voice ran through his head and he opened his eyes to see where she was.
They were both still in the car.
"Tommy, we are on your new street!" she said. He could see her now, the town was lit. He struggled up and tried to look around. It was hard to grasp an image when nothing made sense to him.
"Where?" he asked.
"Right up here," she pointed. He followed her finger. He could see a large, white moving truck up ahead, but still could not see the house.
He leaned closer to his aunt and peered out her side window.
She pulled up front, on the road of a two floor yellow brick house.
"Are you ready, baby?" she asked looking at him, as she unbuckled her belt.
She turned her head.
"Oh, shit," she said aloud.
Tommy moved his eyes from the house.
That is when he saw him.
Just as Aunt Lynn was pulling away. She did not buckle back up.
"Stop!" he screamed. "Stop, Aunt Lynn! Stop!"
But she did not stop. She just keep driving, mouth drawn, biting down on her lip.
Tommy wanted to hit her. Scratch her. Bite her. His body ached with it. He wanted to scream at the top of his lungs. He wanted to cry. He wanted to be able to breathe and not be able to, all at the same time.
He said nothing for five minutes. Then he could not just do nothing any longer.
"Aunt Lynn," he hissed, barely hanging on. "Aunt Lynn, you take me back there to see my Dad."



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Comments

Phoesable said…
on. the. edge. of. my. seat.

have a great weekend, you marvel.
Friday, 13 August 2004 at 12:54:00 GMT-4
Jennifer said…
Tommy stories make me want to cry... They also make me want to be a better mommy.
Friday, 13 August 2004 at 22:22:00 GMT-4
Queenie said…
Ah, Jennifer.
I read your blog.
You already are.

Q
Friday, 13 August 2004 at 23:16:00 GMT-4
Jennifer said…
Awww you are so nice... Thank you... you made my day!
Saturday, 14 August 2004 at 12:18:00 GMT-4
Queenie said…
Thank you, Jules, for taking the time to read so much of my blog.

Q
Thursday, 26 August 2004 at 18:35:00 GMT-4
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