August 12th, 2008 (Late Morning)

Take me back.

Back to what I know. Back to what I want. Back to where I’m supposed to be.

These are the words I wanted to scream at my mother. Instead, I sat silently next to her as she drove the two of us away from the only home I could remember. The words remained in my thoughts, and did not evolve to spoken word.

I had been leaning my forehead against the hard glass surface, watching the landscape pass by as we drove further away from civilization. I hadn’t bothered to even look in her direction since we’d left Toronto city limits over an hour ago. She’d spoken to me, and I’d answered in short, succinct monotone, but it hadn’t required me to turn my head an inch. Nothing she had said was anything of meaning anyway, it never was with us anymore. It hadn’t been for years, really. My neck was beginning to ache and my forehead was sore from the times it’d been bounced against the window due to the numerous potholes that littered the highway.

Resigned, I sighed and turned to face forward. I saw mom glance my way, but thankfully she didn’t try speaking to me again.

My relationship with mom somehow managed to be the most complicated interaction within my life. And none of my interactions were simple anymore. Not the way they were when I was younger. Long before my angsty teenage years began; simplicity ended. Even interacting with the local coffee shop employee who was my usual customer service agent when I needed a dose of java in the early morning hours, was complicated.

No more though, because where I was going, I doubted they even had a coffee shop. No more strained relationships with the giver of my caffeine. Quite possibly no more caffeine.

“Do Darlene and Richard have a coffee maker?” My question broke the tense silence.

“Why would you ask that?”

“Because, I like coffee. If you’re relocating me to the middle of fucking nowhere, there better be coffee easily accessible to me. At the very least, you shouldn’t be depriving me of caffeine.” I turned toward her finally, but only so she could get the full eye roll effect I was going for.

She rolled her eyes back at me. “Watch your language,” she chided, simply out of obligation of being my sole parent; this was her lame attempt to follow through with that role. “Of course they have a coffee maker, Lily. Don’t you remember visiting over Christmas when you were fourteen?”

I scoffed. “Yeah, but why the hell would I have noticed a coffee maker?” My caffeine addiction had just developed suddenly in the last year. I’d begun smoking at twelve but had dropped that habit cold turkey last summer and turned to coffee to fill that void.

Mom sighed and shook her head. “But of course not, you were too wrapped up in your own world to notice anything going on around you. As per usual, Lily?”

“Whatever,” I answered, not willing to enter into a battle right then. We’d already argued as we’d loaded the car with the last of our belongings earlier that morning. Argued over the move, of course. Pretty much the only verbal interaction I had had with my mother this summer pertained to my forced relocation and ninety-five percent of that interaction consisted of arguments.

When mom dropped the bomb that we were moving back to her hometown, I had internally freaked out. I’d gotten very good at keeping my emotions at bay and keeping everything bottled up. Mom had explained to me very clearly that I did not have a choice in the matter and that she felt she did not have a choice either.

In May, she’d been passed over for a promotion at the publishing company she’d been working for, for the last fourteen years. She hadn’t even realized she had any competition for the spot, but the promotion had gone to a new addition to the company- an employee with a fresh Bachelor of Arts, next to mom’s stale college education. A college education she had somehow managed to achieve between working full-time and raising me.

The snub was a huge blow to her on a lot of levels. I hadn’t told her how sorry I was that her company had screwed her over, even though I was angry at them and sad for her. Mom and I hadn’t been big on sharing for over six years now. After my tenth birthday, we went from being two inseparable souls to two individual souls dwelling in the same downtown apartment; leading completely separate lives from one another.

She tried to continue in the same position but it wasn’t the same for her anymore, so after a few weeks of being miserable both at work and at home, she quit. And then announced our upcoming move.

Mom had taken me and left her hometown when I was two, and moved to Toronto, landing a part time entry level position with the publishing company. That she’d even gotten a job was impressive, as she hadn’t completed her last year of high school yet, and would only do so through correspondence and evening courses.

My mom was only sixteen when she left home. I was two at the time, though I recall nothing from before the age of four and my memories beyond that for a couple years are pretty fuzzy. My first clear memory is my sixth birthday in the apartment we had just vacated; a little over ten years later.

Mom had just reached a milestone birthday earlier this year-thirty. Turning thirty and then being fucked over by a company you’d dedicated almost half of your life to had left my mom pretty emotionally wrecked. As my mom delicately put it when explaining the move to me, she now missed her home and having her parents in her life full time. Darlene and Richard, my mom’s parents and my grandparents had reluctantly agreed to us moving in with them, at their home which had long been an empty nest. Mom’s plan was to stay with them until she had a stable income and then she would find a place for us to live. Darlene and Richard had decided that sounded reasonable and opted to give it a try.

I couldn’t help but wonder if they also agreed on the off chance that they could make up for lost time. Lost time both with mom and with me.

Becoming grandparents in their thirties had come as a huge shock to them. Mom was their eldest daughter, with only my Uncle Rick ahead of her by two years. Even now it was obvious to me that they hadn’t adjusted the role of grandparents well, and probably hadn’t adjusted to that role until seven years ago when Rick and his wife Peggy had given birth to their first child, a boy, Jacob. Jake was my first cousin, although now I had four total, divided amongst Rick (Jake and Joe) and my Aunt Lynn (Becky and Darryl). All my cousins were under the age of seven, and I’d only met them each a couple times. They probably wouldn’t recognize me if I showed up at one of their birthday parties, not to mention if I saw them on the street.

I know that for the first two years of my life I lived with Darlene and Richard, as well as my mom and her siblings- Rick, Lynn, and Beth. I naturally have no recollection of that time period. I can count on one hand how many times I’ve visited Darlene and Richard’s in the last fourteen years. Mom did a pretty good job at severing our ties with her family although there was always a loose thread that still connected us to them.

June 30th, 1998 (Late Afternoon)

“Who’s that one from, Lily?” Mom’s voice revealed that she knew exactly who the card I’d just ripped open was from.

“Darlene and Richard, and Aunt Beth,” I answered dutifully. “This is in it,” I said as I held up the bills. I didn’t understand money yet, although mom was trying to teach me. I handed the money to her.

“Forty dollars, you lucky girl.” Mom grinned.

“Next!” I clapped my hands, excited for my next gift.

“This is it, kiddo. From me.” Mom passed me the perfectly wrapped present.

It didn’t stay that way the moment it entered my hands as I tore the shimmering purple paper from the box. I ripped the box open, only to find nothing. Nothing but a sheet of paper with a message written on it. My friends leaned over the table, trying to get a glimpse inside the box I was staring at with wide, curious eyes.

“What is it?” Scarlett asked, squinting her eyes as she peered over the rim of the box.

“Ms. Talon, I think you forgot to put Lily’s present in the box before you wrapped it,” Ryan, with her big brown eyes, told my mom with the most serious tone she could muster from her six year old self.

Mom’s laugh told me that wasn’t the case.

I reached my small hand to the bottom of the box and pulled out the paper, tossing the box aside. “You... will...” I read slowly, still in the process of learning how to read. My friends were all really good at reading, but I was still struggling with it. “Find your... real... pres-ent... in your... room.” I looked at mom. “But mom, we were just in my room before you called us to open my presents. My present isn’t in my room.”

Mom winked at me. “Go and check. I promise you it’s there.”

I glanced around the table at Hannah, Ryan, and Scarlett seeking their approval. As soon as I knew I had it, I scrambled from the table and ran across the open all-in-one concept apartment to my bedroom, with three pairs of feet scampering after me. Flinging open my bedroom door, I shrieked at the sight of the shiny red bike I’d been admiring down the street at a department store only the week before.

There had always been something magical about my mother but now I was sure of it.

My friends gathered around me as I ran to hug and pet the bike, just to be sure I wasn’t imagining its presence. I fingered the purple ribbons tied on the handle bars. Ryan, Scarlett, and Hannah were squealing, giggling and murmuring words of excitement.

As truly excited I knew they all were for me; they could never understand the pure joy I felt at having my very own bike. I had been taught by neighbours in the building how to ride a bike, borrowing their kids old, rusty bikes to learn. I had been begging my mom since my last birthday for my own bike. Having a new, shiny one had been a dream I thought would never happen in real life. Mom wants the best for me, but affording new things wasn’t really in the cards for us. The most I had allowed myself to hope for was a used bike purchased second hand.

I looked up at mom then, leaning against the door frame and beaming at me. Her tired eyes were shining. Her curly black hair was tied up atop her head, a few messy strands escaping. We had the same black hair and the same vibrant green eyes. Our faces were different but even so everyone was always telling me I’m my mother’s daughter.

“Thanks, mom!” I shouted, jumping up and down.

Mom nodded just as the phone rang in the kitchen. She left my door frame to answer it.

Ryan glanced over our tiny friend Hannah’s head at me and exclaimed, “You have the coolest mom ever!”

I grinned proudly. “I know.”

August 12th, 2008 (Evening)

I stared at the food on my plate, poking at the strange form on it that Darlene claimed was meat. It didn’t look or smell like any meat product I’d come across before and I highly doubt it would taste like meat if I were to garner the bravery to try it.

As if reading my mind, Darlene spoke. “Aren’t you hungry, sweetie?”

I shrugged. “Not really,” I answered without looking up.

I could feel the adults exchanging glances. We’d arrived at the old country house earlier that afternoon. Darlene had shown me to my room, which had once been Aunt Lynn’s. That fact alone made me feel as though it would never really be my bedroom. Not really. I had stayed there though, all afternoon. They probably all thought I was unpacking and settling in but really I’d been lying on the bed, staring at the ceiling, ignoring the boxes that contained my possessions. I hadn’t come down at all until I heard mom calling me to come down for dinner.

When I’d gotten to the formal dining room, I’d been surprised and dismayed to see my eccentric Aunt Beth seated with mom and Darlene and Richard.

Aunt Beth is mom’s youngest sister. She’s also my least favourite relative. When I call her eccentric, I’m not exaggerating. She’s only twenty-three, just seven years older than me but she has already declared herself destined to be an old maid and was already a cat lady to boot. Mittens, Larry, Toby, and Millie were her present cats although I was anticipating hearing she’d found herself some more feline friends before the end of dinner.

“Lily, sweetie,” Darlene began. I cringed at her overuse of the term sweetie.

Beth was without a doubt the spitting image of Darlene. Although Darlene put a lot more care into her appearance, compared to Beth’s fiery red waves which, honestly, resembled a rat’s nest, Darlene always had her hair pulled neatly off her face without a stray strand in sight. All four of us women at the table shared the same bright green eyes. Mom and I looked more like Richard apart from our eyes and pasty white skin. Richard’s a tall and sturdy man. He kept his appearance neat just as Darlene does. Richard’s dark hair was always closely cropped and his beard well maintained. Darlene and Richard have always struck me as exact opposites. Darlene was someone who always tried too hard to please everyone whereas Richard never sought anyone’s approval. He’s a man who keeps to himself, quiet apart from his occasional grumblings over what he’d read that day in the newspaper. He didn’t bother to put up a facade and he let everyone know what he thought of a situation when he felt his opinion was called for. Darlene, however, always seemed to put up a pleasant front even when a situation such as this was making her uncomfortable.

“Your mom and I are planning to go over to the next town, not the one with your school but the other way. Well, we’re planning to go there tomorrow morning to the farmer’s market. Maybe you’d like to come with us?”

I glanced at each of their faces, trying to figure out if they were making some sort of joke. When I determined that they weren’t, I asked, “What’s a farmer’s market?”

Beth stifled a laugh as I sent a searing glare in her direction.

“Sweetie, it’s a place where the vendors set up and...”

I cut her off. “Is there a mall in the town?”

“Well, no,” Darlene answered hesitantly.

“I’ll pass.”

“Lily.” Mom’s voice was laced with a warning tone.

I sat in silence for a few more minutes before pushing my untouched plate away. “I’m sorry,” I offered insincerely. “I’m not hungry. May I be excused?” I wasn’t waiting for an answer though as I stood and strode quickly from the room to the disapproving grunt of Richard.

“That girl of yours needs an attitude adjustment,” he said in his usual gruff voice.

Beth’s annoying high pitched laugh pierced the air as I ascended the stairs.

“Oh, come on, Richard. She’s just moved from all that she knows...” I heard Darlene chiding him before I was out of ear shot.

“Lily.”

I glanced over my shoulder as I reached the top of the stairs. Mom was following me, slowly. “What?”

“Try to be civil, please.”

“That was my civil,” I responded as she reached me. She looked the same as she had ten years earlier. Just a bit older, a few wrinkles now, and a few greying strands amongst the black. The most noticeable difference with her now was that her fatigue seemed to rule her now. Before, when I was younger, it was always there, but she could hide it. Now, she didn’t even try.

“Your grandparents are being very generous, letting us stay here and...”

“Mom,” I cut her off. “You told me I didn’t have a choice when it came to moving here. Well, I’m here. But guess what? You can’t force me to like it.” Before she could respond, I retreated quickly to my assigned room and slammed the door acting like every other angsty teenager in the modern world.

November 19th, 1999 (Evening)

“Why are you so annoying?”

“I’m seven. I’m supposed to be annoying,” I announced confidently. “How come your hair is that colour?”

Aunt Beth glared down at me, her hands gripping her hips. “How come you ask so many stupid questions?”

“I’m seven. I’m supposed to ask questions.” I was secretly thrilled by her increasing agitation over my endless questions. “Your hair is a stupid colour.”

Beth’s hair was cropped above her shoulders and bright pink. It was frizzy and big, and quite ugly.

I wasn’t impressed when I got home from another dull day in the second grade to find Grandma Darlene and Aunt Beth in our living room. Mom had explained that she was going to a show with Grandma Darlene and that her fourteen year old sister, Aunt Beth, was going to watch me while they went out.

They’d only been gone a half hour, but I’d managed to fire forty two questions at Beth already, and she had yet to answer a single one. Honestly, anyway.

“My hair is original. I don’t conform. Stupid conforming midget,” she growled at me.

I wasn’t sure what conforming meant but I knew what midget was. “I am not!” I stomped my foot. “I’m seven; I’m supposed to be short!”

“Stop telling me you’re seven. I’m twice your age, and I didn’t act this ridiculous when I was seven.”

“I’m not ri-dic-lous; you’re ri-dic-lous!”

“Go watch one of your fairy movies or go to bed. I’m done with your shit.” Aunt Beth walked away from the couch I was sitting on and went to the kitchen. She began to rummage through the fridge. “What does Sarah feed you?” she asked with disgust.

“Food, you dumb dumb.”

“Dumb dumb? What are you...?”

“I’m seven!” I yelled at her.

She scowled at me and muttered something under her breath.

How could mom leave me with that? Then again, mom had said to me recently that she felt like she didn’t know her sister Beth at all. Mom had moved us away from them five years ago and Beth was only nine at that time. Mom said people change a lot around that age. She said she knows she sure did.

“Your mom’s a slut, you know that?”

I looked up to see Beth had returned to the living room, and was standing next to the couch again. This time she was eating ice cream right out of the container with a fork.

“You’re supposed to use a bowl and a spoon.”

She made a face. “Who says?”

I didn’t answer because I didn’t know the answer.

“Like I said before, your mom’s a slut.”

“She is not!” I defended mom, though I wasn’t sure what I was defending her for.

“Yeah, trust me, she is.” Beth sat on the side of the couch. “You probably don’t even know what the word means.”

I fumed quietly, not wanting to prove her right. “She’s your sister.”

Beth pulled another face. “So what? She’s still a slut.”

“Who says?”

Beth let out a shrieking, high pitched laugh.

I covered my ears until it stopped.

“Everyone. Your mom,” Beth started as she leaned forward, waving her fork in my face in a taunting manner. “She gave it up to a jackass three years her senior before she even turned fourteen. My age! Can you imagine slutting it up at thirteen with some lame basketball jock?” She let out a short version of the horrific laugh. “My mom and dad had no idea what their precious little Sarah was up to while out with her ‘friends’. She wasn’t very smart about the whole affair either, going and getting herself knocked up then refusing to do anything about it. Of course, your father wanted nothing to do with you and bailed long before you were even born.”

“You stupid, hateful... stupid... dumb... moron!” I screamed at her as I stood up. I regretted that I couldn’t come up with smarter insults. I honestly had never heard much mention of my father before then; my mom was always just reminding me if I ever wondered about him that it wasn’t something I should worry about. She would say that it’s just us girls and it’s better that way. And because I didn’t want to think otherwise, I believed her. “I hate you! I hate you! I hate you!” I screamed at her.

Beth, startled at first by my outburst, had recovered and was laughing once more.

I stomped off to my room and slammed my door. I turned on my stereo, blaring Spice Girls to drown out her heinous laughter from the other room.

Even though I hadn’t understood most of what Beth had been saying, I had heard her say that my father was a dumb basketball jock, and that he’d wanted nothing to do with me after mom found out she was pregnant. Oh, and he was three years older than mom which would make him twenty four right now.

It was a lot more than I’d ever known before; but I still hated Beth for her words. I knew they were mean even if I didn’t understand them. I had the best mom in the world. It didn’t make sense to me that somebody else might not see her the same way I did.

September 1st, 2008 (Early Evening)

Dinner the night before my first day at my new school consisted of sharing a box of Kraft dinner with mom. I got the feeling that mom felt awkward about living in the home she’d grown up in because on the nights Darlene didn’t cook, mom wouldn’t make a meal for us either. That was really unlike her as all my life she’d loved to be in the kitchen cooking or baking whenever she got the chance. Not that she had much time for either before, but now she had plenty of time for both and she seemed to be making an effort to avoid the kitchen. I figure she feels like it isn’t her kitchen.

This development sucked for me because whenever I did get a break from Darlene subpar cooking, I never got to experience my mom’s expertise cooking and I found myself missing it.

After eating in silence, and just as silently washing our dishes and cleaning up; mom retreated to her room. Mom divided most of her time between hibernating in her room and out looking for employment in neighbouring towns. She wasn’t looking in the nearest town, the one considered to be our town even though we were a twenty minute drive from it. Mom didn’t appear to want to go into town at all.

This was our twenty first day here. Yes, I was counting. Three weeks since leaving the urban lifestyle of civilization and adopting the rural, isolated lifestyle I was now stuck with. Thanks, mom.

A typical day for me had become mostly about exploring the house and surrounding acres of property. Richard had revealed to me that morning (in a rare moment of small talk with him), that if you walked through the fields then through the wooded area to the next field that if you veered to the right at the next wooded area, I would find a creek that led to railway tracks no longer in use.

After dinner, I decided to venture out and try to find the tracks he’d spoken of. It had been a scorching hot day in Ontario, and now that the sun was just beginning its descent, the heat had lifted and left behind perfect weather. A slight breeze rustled the trees as I walked.

I had to admit that I was getting used to the relaxing solitary lifestyle of country living. Isolation was something I’d found myself craving the last year. At home, in Toronto, people were always around. Since last summer, I’d felt as though I was always alone, even in the company of friends or random strangers. And since that feeling of loneliness remained no matter what was happening; I found myself craving true isolation.

I never told anyone what had happened to me. Not Ryan, nor my mom. I was pretty sure I would never be able to tell anyone. I’d gone over a year with my secret, and couldn’t imagine opening up to anyone about anything anymore.

I could feel my thoughts pulling me to a darker place, so I stopped thinking about anything except the present.

The beauty of the outdoors was not something I’d recognized before this summer. The immense vastness of the wooded areas and fields could take my breath away. As I walked through the hilly second field with the second wooded area in sight, I closed my eyes, breathing in the sweet floral scented air. When I opened my eyes, and continued toward the woods I couldn’t help but wish I could spend tomorrow exploring again. Spend it out here instead of in some stuffy school with a bunch of hillbilly teens I have no desire to befriend.

Once I’d reached the woods, I paused before following the way Richard had instructed earlier. I could see two sparrows perched on a tree a few feet into the woods.

When your days were filled with nothing to do but wait; when you weren’t even sure what you were waiting for, simple things tend to capture your attention. And so, the sight of the two sparrows drew me closer. They were chirping quietly, as though caught up in a secret conversation. I carefully stepped onto a dead tree log a couple feet from where they were perched. I found myself leaning forward and on the tips of my toes. I was watching and listening to them with an intense concentration that I didn’t realize I was no longer alone.

“What are you doing?” a male voice asked from somewhere behind me.

Startled, my heart skipped a beat as I lost my footing and tumbled backward off the log. The sparrows flew away before the guy’s arms caught me. His hands were beneath my elbows and the back of my head and top of my back landed against his sturdy chest. I jumped away from him, almost tripping over the log forwards but managing to step over it without actually falling. It was by no means graceful, though.

I turned to face the intruder whose unwelcome hands had touched me. My hand rested on my chest as I tried to slow my beating heart.

“I’m so sorry; I didn’t mean to scare you.” The teenager’s shaggy light blond hair fell into his eyes as he spoke and he quickly ran his hand through his hair, pushing it back from his face. He’d obviously spent a lot of time in the sun this summer, evidenced by his dark tan. He towered over me, which only resulted in my feeling more intimidated than I already felt and I stepped back a bit more away from him, leaving an awkward distance between us.

Before I could even stop myself, my bitter survival instinct kicked in as it always did these days and I snapped, “What’d you expect sneaking up on a person like that?” I scowled at him, unable to help it.

He looked wounded by my attitude and stepped toward me. I stepped back. The wounded look on his face became more severe, and he tilted his head, studying me.

“I’m not going to hurt you,” he stated. When I didn’t say anything, he continued. “My grandparents live just that way,” he pointed to his left. “I just brought Maggie out here for a walk.”

I narrowed my eyes at him and tried to subtlety seek out this ‘Maggie’ in my line of vision.

Subtlety was never my forte.

“Maggie,” he called over his shoulder without taking his eyes off me.

A golden retriever came bounding through the trees, barking. My hardened resolved faltered at the sight of the beautiful dog, but I quickly resolved to keep up the appearance.

Maggie came to a stop at her owner’s side and sat down, panting and watching me as closely as her master was.

“Would you like to pet her?”

“No,” I stated abruptly, shaking my head. I did want to though.

“Okay.” He glanced away from me finally, looking in the direction I’d come from. “I’ve never seen you before.”

I shrugged.

“You must be the Talons’ granddaughter. My mom said something about you and your mom moving back here. I’m Brady Alexander, by the way.”

I glared at him. I couldn’t help it. His good looks and the kind disposition he was emitting had to be put on. He had to be too good to be true. Isn’t that always the way? I wasn’t about to open myself up to that bull shit again.

He shot me a look of exasperation and shrugged his shoulders. “Okay, then. Maybe I’ll see you at school tomorrow. I guess.” He waited for another awkward moment before turning and walking hastily away from me. He called for Maggie and she bounded after him, disappearing into the woods.

I felt ashamed of myself as I walked back to the house; abandoning my search of the railway tracks for now. Shame was a constant with me now; it stayed with me all the time. But for some reason, at this time, the shame felt different.