A Quiet Piece of Longing – Eleven

I had bought a used car with my money from working construction. And before I knew it, I was back on the road. The only problem was that the radio was attached to nothing but wires. So it’d randomly fall out when driving. I never got it fixed. The radio just sat on the seats.

Now I was driving through Texas in a beater that reeked of cigarette smoke. And as I went over a bump, the radio fell out again. Oh well, I thought. At least this piece of shit is still running. The air conditioner also barely worked. I’d crank it all the way to ice cold. But it would only blow out lukewarm air. It was just like my old car.

There was something about traveling on limited funds. The grit. The struggle. It gave you meaning. There were no people to worry about. No responsibilities. Just you, and the miles you’ve put between yourself.

I suddenly got a call from an unknown number. I declined it at first but they called back. I growled and picked it up, “Who is this?” I asked.

“Oh my God!” The woman on the other line squealed. “Isaiah? You’re alive?”

“Yeah, I am. Who is this?”

“I’m your mother! Cassandra gave your phone number to me.”

“Oh…”

“Where are you? Where have you been?”

“I’ve been traveling.”

“For two years? Two?”

“Yeah, it’s been that long.”

“Are you ever coming home? Cassandra’s still waiting for you, you know. She doesn’t have a boyfriend!”

“I’m never coming home, mom. I’m staying out here.”

“You’re never coming home? You know, your sister’s been worried sick. I’ve been worried. And Cassandra won’t stop waiting for you to come back.”

“Never.”

She grumbled and said, “Then can I at least see you sometime? Do you have a car? You can drive into town and stop by.”

Just what I needed. My own mother trying to drag me back home. I felt that there was no point. It would be a waste of gas and funds. What was there for me? All except broken dreams and broken relationships. Going back would be confronting the very thing that set me out on the road. It’d be pointless. But then again, she was my mom.

“Where do you want to meet?” I asked.

“At our old dining place? Where I’d take you as a kid?”

“Sure. That’s fine. When?”

“A week from now? At Twelve?”

“Sure.”

“Okay. See you, please.”

“We’ll see each other, mom. Goodbye.”

“Goodb—“
I hung up.

I promptly turned around and headed for California. I was just about to exit Texas, too. It took three days to make it to LA and I spent the rest of that time in a motel. It’s not that I didn’t want to see my family. It’s that I wanted to avoid anything around them. I couldn’t face them without feeling trapped.

And yet, they still wanted me back. Even with my mom being on the bitchier side, she still fed me my entire life. She changed my diapers when I couldn’t. So I had to go. I only hoped she wouldn’t try to checkmate me into staying. That’d ruin things fast.

* * *

I sat in my motel room waiting for noon. The television only played HBO so I was stuck watching dramas. I was pretty stoned, and drinking a beer I had bought at a gas station. Then eleven arrived, and I packed into my car.

The dining place was just a shop that sold sandwiches and hot drinks. Every time my mom took me there I got the hot chocolate with as many cherries as they’d give. Then we’d sit on the benches outside. My mom would ramble and I’d be silent, staring off far away somewhere.

I sat at the table and waited, smoking a cigarette. It was the middle of the day and there were many people about. LA never slept. LA never went quiet. As a kid I’d hike up the roads at night and look out over the city. I could see the Capitol Hill building and many apartments and towers. They glowed in the night.

Over in the distance, I saw a women in jeans walking with a lady in a skirt. They came over and sat down at the table. “Isaiah, I can’t believe it’s you.” The woman with bright red hair said.

“Cassandra. Haven’t seen you.”

She reached out and touched my chin. I moved away. “I can’t believe you’re actually here.”
“I’m just unable to believe he’s back.” My mom said.
“Who said I’m back?” I objected. “After this, I’m off to Northern California. Haven’t been there in a while.”

“How’s the traveling life been?” Cassandra asked. My mom clutched her coffee and stared at me with wide eyes.

“Oh, you know, I’ve been to jail, I’ve fucked other women, and I’m never staying in one spot.”
“You’ve been to jail!?” My mom said.

“Just for a little bit. Not a good place.”

“Why joke about that, Isaiah? Why?” She said. “We want to make sure you’re okay.”

“And who asked you to make sure I’m okay? I’m here for a visit, not an intervention.”

“You’ve lost weight. And look at your clothes, they’re tattered.”

“Can we stop attacking me? I’m alright.”

“Isaiah. I have something to say.” Cassandra interjected.
“Yeah? What is it?”

“You left without a word. We were in bed one night and you were gone the next. I thought you had gotten kidnapped or something. I was going to call the police.”

“And?”

“If you’re going to travel, can you at least have my phone number? So we can talk?”

I paused for a moment and stared at her. “I’d rather be alone. Plus, you have my phone number. You can call me anytime, I guess.”

“Please?”

“What would we talk about?”

“You know, you could call me and we could talk about your day or whatever.”

“If I recall, you told me to go fuck myself, and then you fell asleep. Now you want to talk?”

“That wasn’t me talking, Isaiah. That was me upset.”

I stood up. “I thought this was a visit. Not a quest to bring me back to reality. Trust me, I’m fine on the road. I can breathe easier on the road. My old life is dead and there’s no bringing it back.”

“Please sit down.” My mom said.

“Why?”

“Because now I want to say something to you.”

I sighed and sat back down. “What? What is it? What do you need to say?”

She took a deep breath. “It’s fine if you want to travel. It’s fine if you don’t want to be here. But can you at least call? You’ve spent all this time as a ghost, I don’t get why you couldn’t have said anything.”

“I left because everything that was important to me got washed down the drain before my very eyes. The pregnancy was the one thing keeping me going. I was going to have a son! I was going to get to watch him grow up and marry a lady. I finally had something worth living for. A dream.”

Cassandra drew back and wiped a tear from her eye. “You can’t blame yourself for that, Isaiah. It was a miscarriage.”

“I see no reason in staying.”

“Can you at least talk to us sometime?”

I growled. “Fine. We’ll trade numbers, I’ll call. But I’m leaving right now.”

I got their individual contact numbers and left. I high-tailed it to Eureka, California, and stayed at a hotel. I laid down on the bed, staring up at the ceiling, smoking a joint. I didn’t feel like a human being. In fact, I felt rather dead. I wished something could bring me back to life. Traveling wasn’t working anymore, but home didn’t feel like home. That’s what the visit revealed to me. I wasn’t human. I am not real.