Distant Memories
Chapter Three
Pulling up to my house, I thanked Sam for the ride, both of us practically out of breath. Whatever was under the hood was sure as hell fast. I swear we could top, maybe, 200 if we really let loose. However, Sam didn’t want to get a ticket on his first day of freedom, so we settled on half that speed. Of course, it was enough for us both to scream out the windows in excitement.
“No problem. Oh hey,” Sam’s holler had me pause, “I’m going to a party later. You wanna come?”
“No thanks. I gotta help my mom finish unpacking. Some other time,” I waved, opening the front door. Sam waved back before speeding off, another scream of excitement ripping through the interior. I laughed as I walked into my new abode, seeing my mom placing books up on her book shelve. I could see that she had been working hard, the furniture already in its place throughout the building.
“So, how did it go? Does my baby finally have a boyfriend?”
“Ewe, no mom,” I rolled my eyes, setting down my bag. I quickly picked up another box of books, holding it up so my mom didn’t have to keep bending down. “But I made a new friend. I just spotted him some money and helped him pick out a car. He was short only a few bucks.”
“Well aren’t you nice,” my mom smiled. She has been hoping for me to have a boyfriend soon, saying that I couldn’t be like her forever, but I just didn’t find anyone attractive. Save for Tom Cruise but hell, the man was famous. How the hell would I ever run into him? Never, that’s how.
“Yeah, in fact, he got a Camaro for only four grand. Now that was a deal,” I told her. Mom nodded as I explained the whole situation. It was then that she noticed my tattered sleeve, seeing the glass embedded in my skin. Her panic was almost immediate, her taking the box from me and dragging me to the kitchen table. Again, I couldn’t help but think that everyone just dragged me around anymore.
“Mom, I am fine. Really, it’s only like, a few shards,” I said as she suddenly appeared with the alcohol and the tweezers. I could tell this disturbed her more than me as she slowly removed the glass, pausing to make sure I didn’t hurt.
As she removed the last piece, she rubbed the alcohol on my arm before adding a few band aids to make sure I didn’t bleed everywhere. That was when I noticed the rag she used to rubbed the alcohol in. There was a fresh mark of blue on it, mixed in with my dots of red blood. Mom saw it too, but she dismissed it, throwing away the rag.
My eyebrows lifted in surprise as she laughed, holding up the box I had previously held. This wasn’t like my mom to pretend something didn’t happen but I wouldn’t press it as I finished helping her unpack the front room and kitchen before going to my room. It was smaller compared to the last one but I had my own bathroom this time and immediately began to set up my room.
Going over the plan, it was a basic square shape. So I immediately decided to have my full size bed near the window with enough space to walk along the wall. Diagonally from my bed, I pushed my desk, having an OCD moment as I continued to push it further away until I was satisfied with the distance. My dresser was, of course, directly parallel from my bed and my bookcase (mom thought imperative I have one) was on the opposite wall of my desk. Yes, I get my room had to be properly “in order” was a little strange. That is what having OCD meant.
After being satisfied with the set up, I began doing the decorating, hanging the pictures of family and friends on the wall that I remembered. Grandmother, of course, would always hold a special place on my desk as I finished with the last of my pictures. Some were drawings of my dreams, mechanical beings in almost every one. I even dared to hope that this house would stop the nightmares, bringing in a sense of peace for me.
“Nice,” mom walked in, holding a plate of sandwiches as I unrolled the round rug I had confiscated from the front room. My floor was hardwood and I wanted at least something soft to walk on. Mom didn’t mind as she sat on my bed.
“Yeah, makes it homey,” I laughed, hanging up my dream catcher above the bed. Grandma always had a thing for Native American artifacts. Dream catchers were one of them, having collected hundreds. She gave me her favorite when my nightmares started, hoping it would do its job. Mom nodded as I turned, going over every inch of the place to ensure that it did look how I wanted it. However, near grandmother’s picture, it just felt empty. That’s when I remembered my new item in my backpack, hurrying over and opening the bag to see the very object I was looking for.
“What are those?” mom asked as I carried them to the picture, placing them down next to it. It just seemed to fit where they sat as I finished my inspection, joining mom on the bed to enjoy some of her turkey, ham, and pepperoni sandwiches with cheddar. Oh man, heaven!
“Some glasses I bought from Sam. He asked me to buy something so he didn’t feel like a charity case, so I bought those. They looked vintage. Something about being his grandfather’s,” I glanced at them, “Which would explain why they look like they belong there.”
Mom nodded, taking another bite of her sandwich as we talked some more. She had found a new job nearby, working at a station. I told her I would find a job too to help out, but she merely shook her head, telling me to work on my school work. I knew she wouldn’t be too happy about me working instead of going to school, but I still told her I would as she grabbed the plate, kissing my head.
“Just graduate first baby. Then get a job, a man, and just be happy,” she told me with a sad smile.
“How about a job, a car, and of course, a house we don’t have to pay for,” I countered. She laughed as she walked out. I collapsed on my bed, thinking over her words of finding a man. At times I wished she would stop pestering me about it. I mean, I understood her meaning of not being like my mom forever. Hiding from the world and just being single. But she also understood that what we went through was enough to keep me from trusting men with the very thing I didn’t want to lose.
My heart.
~XXXXXXXXXX~
I ran to the window as I heard a honk outside, seeing Sam waving at me from the car. Bolting out my room, mom waved at me as I dashed out the front door. I couldn’t help the laugh as Sam’s jaw dropped when he saw me as I pointed to the driveway. He had called me, asking me if I wanted the honor of washing his car first. Of course I screamed hell yes and I immediately got the supplies needed as I waited for Sam to show up.
“Is this what you wear outside of school all the time?” he finally asked me as he got out, making sure all the windows were up. I laughed as I looked at my clothes. I had put on my star spangled bikini top and a pair of shorts. I had always thought the shorts were modest, being at mid-thigh, but mom would always whistle at me as a joke. Apparently they were a bit too tight.
“No, this is my swim wear, perv,” I laughed as I switched on the water. Sam went and sat on the steps of our porch as I got to business, washing the car down. I swore for a moment I saw it shiver as I continued to wash away the loose dirt before grabbing the sponge, rubbing all over. As I did the tires, I swore I heard a giggle and immediately looked up. Sam was busy talking with my mom.
“I must be going crazy,” I whispered, continuing my scrubbing. After another wash down, I used a towel to dry off the car, careful not to ruin the paint anymore. Afterwards, I stepped back, admiring my handiwork and the shine of the car.
A low whistle caught my attention as Sam looked over his car, admiring the new shine it gained. My mom even looked over it, rather impressed with the look of the car.
“You weren’t kidding. This thing is smexy.”
“Mom?” my shock at her choice of words threw me off as Sam got in. He paused for a moment before asking me if I wanted to go for a drive but again I declined.
“Do I look like I am ready for a drive?”
“I can wait.”
“Zynith, go have fun!” my mom grabbed my shoulder, pushing me toward the house to change. I sighed as I went inside to my room to change into more appropriate clothes. So I dug through my closet, pulling out a pair of jeans, work boots, and my favorite tank top. Still feeling like it wasn’t enough, I grabbed my blue plaid button up shirt, throwing that on but not bothering with the buttons. Satisfied, I brushed my hair, pulling it into a ponytail, and walked out. Sam nodded toward me as I climbed into the vehicle, waving bye to my mom as we pulled away.
“So what’s up?” I asked as we hit the main roads. Sam looked a little uncomfortable as we drove around until he finally opened up.
“Your mom wanted me to take you to the party,” he stated. I sighed as he stopped in a McDonald’s parking lot. He didn’t move as we sat there in silence for a moment before he spoke again.
“I know you don’t want to go so, I was wondering, so I don’t have to lie to your mom, do you wanna just sit in the back seat?”
Um….no.
“Take me to Walmart.”
“What?”
“Walmart. You know the super-giant chain store?”
Sam playfully punched my arm and said sure as he took off, dropping me off at Walmart as I asked. I told him thanks and that he didn’t have to worry about lying to my mom. I would tell her I threatened him or something. Sam just laughed as he took off, leaving me to do what I wanted. But instead of going inside, I just started walking home. I didn’t understand why mom wanted me to go to a party. I didn’t party.
Still, it was sweet that she wanted me to socialize. Mom was always the type to have friends and I guess she was beginning to feel bad about me always being home with her. She was my mom though and I didn’t want her being lonely. So I trekked on, finding my street after about a half hour. At least I learned how to get to Walmart and back.
As I walked up to the front door, I realized it was open. This wasn’t like my mom to leave the front door open like this. In a panic, I ripped open the screen door, screaming out her name as I rushed in. But I stopped, staring at the figure on the couch. The man was wearing a suit, his glasses sitting high on the bridge of his nose. Mom was sitting in her recliner, staring wildly at me in shock as I stepped back when the man slowly stood. His brown hair was styled to the right, trimmed and kept proper.
“Dad?” my voice was barely above a whisper as he sighed before mom got up, deliberately moving slow. I stared at her for a moment before looking at him, seeing an ID badge attached to his coat, the words Sector Seven prominent on them.
“Zynith, now don’t panic. We need to talk,” he said. I shook my head, backing away as he stepped toward me.
“Get away you bum!”
“Zynith, please, we need to tell you the truth,” mom finally said, placing a hand on his shoulder. I couldn’t believe my eyes as she held onto his arm, watching as he reacted. It felt like my heart burst as he looked at me, pained eyes meeting angered.
“Zynith, I think it’s time you know the truth. We have been meeting for a while and I convinced your mom to move here because, well, we needed to protect you. I had to be an ass to ensure you never tried to look for me. I left to protect you,” he waited as I processed his words. The anger that built in my chest started to hurt as I clinched my fists.
“From what?”
Another pause had me grinding my teeth as I seethed at him. The man who insulted my mother and hurt us as a family, who had the audacity to say he had to pretend, was standing in what was supposed to be my safe haven. Instead, it was turning into my hell as I waited.
“Well,” mom started, looking rather sad as she broke the news that I was not expecting. A part of a story that I did not see coming and I felt tears prick my eyes as I screamed, running for my room. Slamming the door, I pushed my dresser I had gotten the other day in front of the door as I heard banging and a pleading voice telling me to come out. I couldn’t believe my ears as they apologized, saying that they needed to tell me the truth now. That I was in danger.
“GO AWAY!” I screamed again as I collapsed on my bed, my throat choking on a sob. Placing the pillows over my head, the voices stopped with the banging as I was left to wallow in my pain. I stared out my window, tears falling down my face. Everything I knew was a lie. Everything I thought I was, my heritage, wasn’t true.
I was adopted.