Carefree

Stella

I woke up first to my son bothering me, and then the second time, to my son handing me an odd mix of toasted cheese and French toast. I don't know who ever taught him how to cook like that, but it was good, that was certain. I was thirsty but it didn't really matter, I was still too lazy to get out of bed.

Apparently, we were going hiking today. Earlier, he had told me so, but I had been half asleep, lost in a peaceful dream about a less stressful life. I had been kissing someone in that dream…illustrating proof that, yes, I did need a boyfriend.

As I ate my French toast, I realized that my dreams had escaped me like hot air out of a popped balloon. Anything I had dreamed about was gone from my head and I couldn't get it back. Oh well – there would always be more dreams to dwell on.

I finished the sweet taste of cheese and licked my fingers off. I had woken up underneath my blankets, but my body temperature was alright. I didn't stink either, as far as I could tell. I set down the plate on my stand and stood up, yawning. I leaned back, hearing a satisfying (yet disturbing) cracking noise coming from my back. That over with, I took a look at myself in the mirror.

A raggedy, worry crease lined mother stood staring back at me. What ever happened to the teenager in me anyway? It left so long ago, and how I wished it was back. My hair was a mess. I couldn't stand it, and I picked up the brush off of my dresser. I patiently ran a gentle pattern through my hair, working through the knots and putting it back in place. I was good at brushing my own hair. I never ever pulled my own hair out or did something to cause myself pain.

That civil service done, I looked at myself once more. I was slightly more presentable, but it wouldn't really matter because we were going into the middle of nowhere to hike anyway. Most people and their kids would spend the day at the beach, not in the woods sweating their butts off. But we were going to a special spot, a forbidden spot in the state park. I grew up by it, so I knew all the secret ways to get in, and Adam followed me easily, if not surpassed me with sneaking in silently and skillfully. It was almost worrying how well he did it.

We only go and hie around in this…cliff…plateau area…because it is such a beautiful view. Devil's Nose, as it is called, was actually a checkpoint for smugglers during the Prohibition times. There were little caves dotting the shoreline. It was closed off now mostly because parts of the cliff were so eroded that they would fall without warning, sending whoever happened to be on them onto the rocks below. Dangerous? Yes. But still fun. I wasn't really sure if I was a good example to my son by sneaking him into the park the back way to go hiking, but it was worth the risk.

Deciding I was fit enough to be presentable to the public, I put of a T-shirt over my spaghetti strap shirt that I wore to bed. I changed my pajama pants to shorts, then took the paper plate out to the garbage. Adam was sitting alone, just finishing his food. I smiled at him.

"Ready?" I asked him. He looked surprised.

"I'd think you would have wanted to take a shower or something mom. You always do. But sure, I'm ready. What do we need, anything? Trail mix? Water?"

"Yeah, bring some water. We can get some soda pop, like coke, and subs before we begin to hike. We can have a picnic lunch or something, if that's alright with you." I said, thinking furiously. If we did that, it would cost a tiny bit more money but would be more enjoyable. The nearest place to sell subs was right on the way too, in the only plaza in Hamlin.

"Should we bike or just hike?" He asked. I shrugged.

"It'll be easier and safer to just hike. I trust my own feet on those trails more than I trust a bicycle." He nodded in agreement with me. That settled, I moved over towards the door and put my sneakers on. He followed as soon as he had thrown his paper plate away. The kitchen was spotless, which was surprising. He must really have missed hanging out with me or something, because it's been a long, long time since I've seen him act this good.

"I'll be out in a second Adam, go to the car."

"What?" He asked me, not hearing me the first time.

"I said go out to the car, and I will be out there in a moment…" I repeated myself. He grinned.

"What did you say mom? I can't hear you…"

He ducked as I moved to hit him."Get out to the car!" I muttered at him, and he exited the house, letting our screen door slam with a decided thud. I walked back into the kitchen and sought out my purse and keys. Finding them, I shouldered the purse and walked out the front door, closing the heavy wooden one behind me.

I looked at my car in distaste. I really needed to get a new one. The car was a little Pontiac, light blue. It didn't even have back doors for people who wanted to sit in the back. They had to crawl in through one of the front seats. Adam was already in the car, waiting for me. I walked down our concrete steps and onto the heated blacktop. I gripped the door's handle and as I opened it, for a brief second, my dream came back to me.

We were in the backseat of my car. He was on top of me and he smelled like Old Spice or something. He was a few years older than I was, and much, much more developed in all areas. The physical, emotional, spiritual areas of life, that is. He wouldn't have sex with me, I trusted that…but he was a really good kisser…

I pushed the fake memory out of my head, getting into the car. I molded my face into one of neutrality show as not to show Adam that something was wrong. My dreams did that often to me – flashed back in little scenes while I was going about my day. They would be the most pointless parts, but would leave me feeling frustrated because I could remember no more.

I put the key into the ignition hole and twisted it. The engine revved into action and noisily invaded the atmosphere. I moved the gear shift to "reverse" and backed out of the driveway. I glanced over and Adam turned his head away. He had been avidly watching me drive. I was attempting to forget that in less than a year, he too would be driving. In less than a year, he would be considered more adult than child, and would be expected to have a job as well as beginning to actually mature. This was his last summer of being a child.

I focused my attention on my driving, stopping at the stop sign at the end of our housing track. This road ended, and went into Lake Road. Since we were going to Hamlin, this meant I needed to take a left, onto one of the busiest streets in our town. Lake Road traveled south all the way down to mid-state, and went up all the way to the lake (hence its name). Many, many people used it to get to work or church or wherever they had to go. It wasn't a lonely road.

There were cars coming from both directions, so I sat back to wait. As we waited for the cars to clear out, Adam looked at me with an odd expression on his face. He stuck his tongue out at me, bobbed his head once and said, "Dorf!"

I burst out laughing. He grinned at me. That was something he used to do a long time ago when he was a small child. It used to be his favorite word, and action to do, and for some reason it always made me laugh. It was complete nonsense, and I was extremely taken back that he had remembered it. Trying to focus, I turned back to the road.

A moment later, seeing my chance, I pressed the gas down with my foot, savoring the feel of power as I took a left out onto Lake Road. I straightened the little Pontiac out and we began our journey down to the Lake.

Oddly enough, if you backed up, that is, went further south, on the highest point in the town, you could make out the lake about 20 miles away from you. But, now, driving, we were too low to be able to see it.

We traveled down this road at least once a week. My sister lives in Hamlin, and at least once a week she needs help with groceries or something in her household. She's in apartments, and is in a wheelchair, so she can't do everything herself, but she does try. So once a week, usually on Saturdays, Adam and I would go down and visit with her, take her shopping and things. Adam almost wouldn't go – I don't really blame him because he basically hangs out with two old ladies for the day – but he loves his Aunt Stephanie to death and beyond. He's her light – not me. It is her that keeps him going and him that keeps her going when either of them gets depressed.

The houses were all not so modern, from the 60s and 70s mostly. The newer houses were like ours, situated in housing tracks. The older ones were cozier, but what we had was a home to us.

I swear that I could name each color of every house on either side of the road as we rode down the street. I could have perfect, accurate dreams about this road and be perfectly correct in each house, and each car that was in the driveway, and the people that lived there. I knew each bump in this road – such was the consequence of growing up in this part of the state. I've been traveling this area since I was a small child, and I was proud of it. Not too many people have pride in their place of origin anymore, which is sad.

People should always respect their ancestors and the places they live in. Without either, they wouldn't be where they are today. Honestly, how many times in a day does the average person count their blessing? I have so many – I grew up here, in a mostly unpolluted, not crowded area. I'm comfortable in the outdoors – we don't have smog or natural disasters(besides blizzards and the occasional small tornado). I have a son, and a sister, both who mean the world to me. I was married for a while – I'm not lacking in experience. I have a house, a car, and a job where I get to help people. What more could I want?

As we passed, one of the houses caught my eye. That was the house that my best friend had lived in when we were growing up. I lived more out in the middle of nowhere when I was younger, with my parents. They still own the farm, but it wasn't really a farm anymore. They were steadily selling off our old land. They were too old to farm it, and neither my sister nor myself had the courage, patience, or brains to continue on with the family business.

The house was a light blue now, with what Julie's dad would have called cardboard for siding. It was processed wood, made in about foot thickness around the house, all the way up. Each doorway and window was surrounded by a light white trim, and the windows also had a clean white shutter on either side of them. The driveway was gravel, made of loose stone and dirt. It wasn't that long, but it had a slight curve to it, which made it longer than it appeared. Someone else lived there now. It had been years since my friend had lived there.

Billy was the friend that had lived there. Billy Jennings. He was a quiet kid when he was growing up, always wanted to see more of the world than he could. He died when I was 17 – he was 16. A plane, the one he was on, flying to Florida with his parents, crashed and he was the only one killed. His parents moved out of the house soon after, being unable to withstand the pain of his absence. Both of them were in a nursing home now, together but still not happy about their son's death. They refused to accept it, but nothing could bring him back.

Each time I remembered Billy, it brought tears to my eyes. I was trying hard to keep my vision clear as we drove by that house, but they blurred up. Adam looked at me concerned, and I slowed and pulled over to the side of the road.

"Hold on a moment, Adam. There's something I need to do that I should have done long ago. You don't mind, do you?" I asked, keeping my voice steady and strong. He looked at me, bewildered.

"By all means, mom. What's wrong?"

"There's a memory I need to confront. Someone I need to meet. I'll be back in a moment." I said, getting out of the car. I avoided a car and then jogged across the road and back up to Billy's house. I walked up the gravel driveway, feeling the small stones roll worthlessly beneath my feet. I ascended the concrete porch, still the same as it was so many years ago. Hands shaking, I rang the doorbell.

As I waited for someone to answer the door, memories assaulted me. Billy had been my first boyfriend, and I was the first and last girl he had ever kissed. I know this because I was there the day he left – I gave him his final goodbye kiss. He was only leaving for a week, but it was the longest he would ever be away from home. He didn't want to spend it without knowing that I cared for him, even though I couldn't be with him.

His scent assaulted me. His face, a tanned one with smiling brown eyes and light blonde hair spun around in my thoughts. His mouth, betraying him, spoke the words I had never heard, but could always sense."I love you." He said to me, so far away yet so close. His body flashed before my eyes – swimming with him, splashing him, and having fun. All those times we were together. The day he died was the day I grew up, and I began to live life as an adult. I sang at his funeral – the last time I ever did a song for other people, with all of my heart.

The door opened. A woman about my age, with worry lines around her eyes, stood before me, looking at me with an odd expression on her face. She didn't know what to expect. She opened the door wider, revealing a totally new house inside.

"Can I help you?" She asked me pleasantly, looking around outside for where I had come from.

"Hi. I used to know the people that lived here before you…" I said, not knowing what else to say. She cocked her head at me. I laughed, nervously.

"I just have the need to see the house one last time. The boy who lived here before you. He died in 1985, three days after his 16th birthday…" I stalled, trying to avoid my teary eyes. I shook it off."His parents never let me in again, after he died, in a plane crash. Every time I drive by here, I see his face and I want to know that he's not here, isn't going to come out and wave hi as I go by…"

"Of course…" She nodded. I think she understood, or maybe she just wanted to humor me. She opened the door.

"Come in, if you'd like. We haven't changed the house much at all from when we got it in 1986. I was just out of my teens then, I was 20, and I had just left my parents in Central New York. I bought the house with my husband. We had contraception problems for a while, but thankfully, 5 years ago, we were blessed with a little one." She walked into her house, motioning for me to follow her.

I could have sworn I smelled Billy on the air as I walked through. She was right – not too much had changed. It didn't have a sad feel to it, not at all. It was happy, loved, lived in. And then I saw her kid.

He was blonde haired, brown eyes, and had a devilish grin on his face. He had a bright yellow shirt on and little denim jeans. Seeing me, he walked over and clung to his mother's leg. She patted him on the head.

"This is William. He's the miracle. Billy dear, meet…I'm sorry, what did you say your name was?"

"Stella. Hey there buddy." I said with a smile, and I extended my hand. He took it eagerly. I felt the warmth and power within him, and for a brief moment, I was assaulted once more by memories.

His face was framed by the pale light. His parents stood behind him, talking to each other with their backs turned. He grinned, an impish expression forming on his face. Theatrically, he mouthed the words, "I love you", and then attacked me, tickling me for all I was worth. Before his parents turned around, he stole a kiss, his tongue sliding across my lips, teasing. That was the last time he ever touched me.

I felt warm, and the world spun for a moment. The woman looked at me, and I realized she didn't see my change, my quick delving into memories. I felt a warm presence behind my back, but knew that if I turned, nothing would be there.

"Thank you. That helped me a lot. I must be going now. Nice to meet you Ms…?"

"Karen Waters. Please stop again sometime. It's been nice to meet you too." She said, shaking my hand with a friendliness unusual between complete strangers. She was a blessed soul – that was sure.

I walked out of their house, trying to hold back tears that weren't coming any more. That was solved. We could continue on our journey. I descended the steps, my soul mate's essence in one hand and my heart in the right place. I would find his true incarnate soon – my heart said. Someone worthy of taking his place. Someone to love me and my son, like Billy would, had he been here today.

The gravel rolled under my feet as if saying farewell. I knew that I wouldn't step into that house again…I didn't have a need to. Later on, I would visit Billy's parents, or at least I would look their address up. And on the way to the lake, Adam and I needed to have a talk. I never really told him about his father, his father wasn't important. My memories of my soul mate were – had Billy been alive today, he would be Adam's father. I know it.

I jogged back across the street, the sun warming my healed body and soul. I felt happy – happier than I had ever felt before. I was bursting with energy. I was grinning from ear to ear as I got back into my car. Adam looked up from the house he was examining out the window. He raised an eyebrow.

"What was that all about? Why are you so happy?" He asked me, unable to not smile as I restarted the car. I pulled out, and back onto Lake Road.

"Well, a long time ago, a friend lived in that house that I just visited. In 1985, I was 17, and my friend, Billy, was 16. We were in love. He always wanted to go out of state, and his parents never had time, but on his 16th birthday, they made time. Three days later, they left on a plane to go to Florida. The plane crashed in South Carolina. Billy was the only one to die out of the entire plane."

No tears were forming in my eyes, and I was blatantly telling the truth to my son. Adam looked at me blankly, wanting me to continue. He could tell that I had a little more to say before I had the full story out.

"Billy was more than a friend. He was my best friend, my school mate, and my soulmate. My boyfriend. He was the first I ever loved – and the only other person that I have truly loved is you: my son. I had a need to meet with the past, you see. Every time I went by the house, images of him would flash through my head. My eyes would blur and I'd get into a bad mood. I don't know if you ever noticed – I tried to hide it."

"You hid it pretty well." Adam nodded."So wait…this guy…you loved him…and he died? That sucks, mom, it really sucks."

"Yes, it does suck. But without him dying, you wouldn't be here. I can finally accept that. And I think that in a way, he's in you. He's in the little child who's in that house now. And I hope that very soon, his spirit will be inside a guy I meet. I want to move on in this life. I want to love again. Billy is a part of me, he's in my heart. I know that by now he would want me to love another."

"Of course he would, mom. If he truly loved you, then in the very least he would want you to be happy after he's passed on." Adam stated bluntly. He was so aware, so smart…at times. I nodded in agreement, then continued.

"I tried to kill myself after he died. I took my mom's bottle of Valium and took at least 10. Right after, I realized what an idiot I was, and forced myself to throw them all up, about 2 minutes after I swallowed. I still got sick, but my parents didn't really notice. About the missing pills or me being sick. After that I basically slapped myself and told myself to stop being dumb. And that’s when I grew up. I shut it off inside of me and sought another boyfriend. Next one I met was your father. The day I turned 18 I married him, and by the time I was 19, I had you. By the time I was 22, I was a single parent. You know the rest."

"Wow." That was all that Adam could manage to say. We rode in decently comfortable silence for a time. He was ingesting all of what I just told him, and I was regretting telling him about the weakest time of my life. But then, he needed to know.

We rode in silence. The wind wrapped around the car as it hurtled down the street at forty miles per hour. Birds were perched on the power lines. I was ever aware of the position of the sun in the sky. It was a clear sky, for the most part, with a few high, fluffy clouds in the west. The sun's rays hit those clouds with a magnificence, making them bright white instead of a creamy color. I felt so much better – I felt like I could fly.

"Mom?" Adam said after a moment, looking at me. I glanced over at him for a moment before keeping my eyes attuned to the road, ever wary of the other passing cars. Today wasn't a day to get into an accident.

"Yeah?" I responded. The green building of a karate school passed on my left, as did the local gas station – K and K. Its orange sign was like a billboard, advertising it's inexplicable existence. The sun glinted off of it, rising about one fourth of the way in the south eastern sky. The sun pierced the seats of our care too, glinting off in an almost blinding display of heat and energy.

"I don't know, exactly. Are you sure you don't regret having me? Wasn't it hard? Why did you marry my father? Why did you have me if you still loved Billy?"

"I needed to move on. Your dad didn't want you, and I think it was his not wanting you that made me determined to bear you and raise you. We were married because it was convenient, not because we loved each other. We broke when it stopped being convenient for him...when you came along. I loved you because I didn't particularly like him. And then when you were born, I loved you because of the beauty you brought to my life. You were a beautiful child, Adam, and you're a handsome young man now. And I love you because you're my child, and you're the result of my pain, my suffering, my joy, my experiences."

I slowed the car down as we came to the fork in the road. It was here that the road split off into 2 roads – Lake Road East and Lake Road West. I took a left when there were no cars, switching over to the West fork.

Not a moment later, a dark brown cluster of buildings passed us on our left. That apartment complex was where my sister lived. They were apartments, yes, but at very cheap pricing, and rather nice too. I fought the urge to stop and say hello to her. She would be very happy with me that I finally found what I needed to. I was alright. She didn't have a need to worry about her little sister anymore.

The church on our right was car filled but silent. It was short, more horizontal than vertical, but it still had a bell tower. It had been there ever since I could remember, but it couldn't be that old.

Julie

I told you…a voice whispered in my head. I told you he was after you…and now you're caught, and you're gonna die…and no one's going to know. Fuck off! I shouted at the cruel voice. This is all a dream! I'll wake up in my own bed in my own room and all of this will just be a fucked up memory!

Oh yeah? The voice asked. Then why do you have such a headache? Did you magically get hit in the head with a rock while in bed?

Fuck you! I yelled again in my head. Even if I am somewhere I shouldn't be, I can get out. I always have in previous times…

I slowly realized I was awake. It was pitch black, and I could hear my own heart laboring from the stressful dream. I forced myself to calm down and not move.

Where was I? It was kind of cool, and I must have been inside because I could feel no breeze. Where had I been last was the most important question. I couldn't remember, and I had a splitting headache.

I woke up today…and I went to go get my skateboard… started down the road. Oh. That dude was chasing me…I ran into the woods and lost him…got down from the tree…and blacked out.

"Someone?” I called out. My voice echoed against the concrete walls dully. "Hello?”

I slowly tried to sit up and realized my hands were cuffed together. I jiggled my feet. They, too, were cuffed. And my head didn’t feel too great. And I had to pee. Where was I?

I moaned involuntarily as I used my abs to sit up. My entire body was sore for some reason. My stomach hurled and I realized there was no way to keep whatever I had eaten down. I rolled off of the bed I was on as quickly as I could, then got jolted back by my neck. A collar?

Well, in that case – as my stomach heaved again – I would just have to keep it down.

"Hello?” I yelled as loud as I could, my throat cracking in need. It was parched. How long had I been asleep?

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