A second knock, louder than the first, prepped Ali to action. Hiding the gun behind her hips, she slowly opened the door. Her body tightened when she saw who it was.
“What do you want?”
Holding the handle of a large hardside briefcase with a disoriented look on her face was Mary, Scar’s older sister. Her hair was back in a low ponytail, and she had what appeared to be a cold sore on her lip that had lip balm applied to it recently. She eased the suitcase to the wooden porch and let go of the handle. “Uh, I came to give you this.”
Ali’s eyes lowered to the bulky slate gray suitcase. “You came to give me that? Is this a joke or something?”
“No. Scar told me to give this to you, but you, like, haven’t been around in forever. So I heard about town that you were in rehab and getting back today. You weren’t at your house, so I figured you might be here.”
Confused, Ali’s eyes raced from Mary to the suitcase. “When did he give that to you?”
“The morning before he died,” Mary bluntly answered. “I remember it vividly. I had woken up and was watching the Today Show, or maybe it was Golden Girls.” Laughing, Mary scratched at her nose before abruptly halting her humor. “Fuck, maybe I don’t remember. You see, I usually start my mornings with a hydrocodone in my orange juice…and vodka. My wisdom teeth hurt, you see, and-”
“Just get to the point. Why are you giving it to me?” Annoyed, Ali didn’t believe she needed her gun anymore, but she was at least wanting to shoot at Mary’s feet just for fun. She knew a lot of people who were addicted to drugs. Mary was by far the most annoying.
“Yeah, uh…I don’t know. Scar just told me to give this to you if he…well, didn’t come home.” A rare hint of genuine emotion cracked out of Mary’s lips.
Mary scooted the suitcase toward Ali. Her hand hesitated in grabbing it, but after another nudge from Mary with her foot, Ali took the surprisingly heavy suitcase in her hand and dragged it inside, dropping her gun in the floor out of sight. Mary wiped at her eye and turned around to head back to her car, an older Toyota Corolla. Ali watched her walk all the way to her car, then took a look at the suitcase. The first thing she noticed was the lock, a four digit combination lock. Her fingers moved the brass numbers, randomly inputting numbers in her attempts to unlock it. Quickly giving up, she ran out the open door, flagging Mary down before she had backed out of the driveway.
“Hey, wait! How the fuck do I unlock this!?”
Sticking her head out of the window, Mary gave a keenly surprised expression. “Oh fuck!” She laughed louder than the car’s engine, which sounded like it needed some maintenance. “Scar said, uh…dammit, what did he say?”
Muttering, Ali was beside herself. “You have got to be fucking kidding me.”
Mindlessly staring at the dirt and gravel driveway below her, Mary thought long and hard, trying to take herself back to that moment three months ago. Both women were high school dropouts, but Ali’s mind luckily wasn’t as destroyed by drugs as Mary’s was. It was almost sad watching her attempt to think.
“Oh yeah!” exclaimed Mary. “I got to thinking about screwdrivers and hydrocodone. I named that a hydrodriver. That’s the queen of breakfasts.”
Ali had an intense glower. Mary could feel it. “Oh yeah, oh yeah. Scar told me to tell you that the code is the price for a kiss. That doesn’t make sense to me at all.”
Oh boy, a riddle. Ali didn’t expect opening a mysterious suitcase to be such a chore. Exhaling with frustration, Ali gave an insincere wave goodbye to Mary. “Thanks.”
Mary waved back. “If that thing has some pills or ‘shrooms or something good in it, you mind sharing?”
“If it’s drugs, you can have it all.”
Smiling, Mary seemed giddy at the prospect. “I’ll cross my fingers!”
After watching her vehicle pull out of the lengthy driveway, Ali turned around and looked at the suitcase from outside the house. Contemplating what Scar meant as she entered and closed the front door behind her, she didn’t have to think too hard about it. Price of a kiss? That one night, when he kissed me, the price? That Maker’s Mark in there, I purchased…no, he bought it! The price!
Ali felt proud of her problem solving abilities. They did riddles and puzzles at the rehab facility in order to gear the recovering minds into something productive. She was one of the best there. Looking at the four numbers, she recalled the price of the bottle of Maker’s Mark. Ali had an eidetic memory for how much things cost plus the tax, though this skill was mainly used for the purchasing of alcohol and drugs. It was a sad talent, but one that came useful for this. Inputting the numbers 4-8-3-5, she heard the contraption unlock. Not wasting any time and curious as a button to see what was left for her, she lifted the upper section.
Her eyes almost exploded out of her head.
It was loaded with cash. Crisp $100 bills stacked neatly and bound in stacks of five thousands. She couldn’t fathom how much was in this case. Flustered, Ali assumed there had to be close to a million dollars in here, if not more. Placing both fingertips to cover her open mouth, she struggled to take in what she was seeing.
A white folded piece of paper inside of the suitcase separated itself from the pale green of the monetary bills. Intrigued, she picked it up and unfolded it. It was a note, handwritten by Scar.
Ali,
If you are reading this, then I guess I got killed by your dickhead father. Or maybe I had a car wreck. Either way, I’m dead. I’m sure you are surprised by what you’re looking at. All of this is for Austin. You may spend it on yourself too. Just do it wisely and not all at once. Don’t be too flashy, or else some people may grow suspicious.
I wasn’t very good at explaining how I felt the other night. I always was fond of you even when you were a kid. You had a smart mouth and enjoyed trashing your father. That’s changed now, but as you have grown older, you are way finer. You are a beautiful woman.
I do wish that I had lived Clint’s life. But since I am hiding behind a pen and paper and am now drinking beer from a waterfall in Heaven surrounded by sexy women, just know that when we kissed, I knew I loved you.
Goodbye Ali. I hope life treats you better.
Scar
For minutes, all she could do was blankly stare at the note, reading it again and again. Ali couldn’t describe how she felt. Confused was the word that most closely reflected her emotions, but even that word’s meaning was convoluted. He was nicer than most, but that could never upend the fact that Scar knew what Clint was doing to her. He only made his move when she was single and convenient. A real man would have stepped in long ago. But, she couldn’t dispute the fact that he cared for her. He especially cared for Austin. In the end, both Owen and Scar were winners. Her father fulfilled his mission of getting rid of both Clint and Scar, while Scar succeeded in giving Austin a stable future. It was up to her to raise him right. She was more than up for the challenge.
The crackling of tires meeting gravel sounded in Ali’s ears. Promptly closing the suitcase and placing it in the closet of her bedroom, she walked back into the living room and peeked out of the window. Austin was sprinting from the car to the front porch. His face was filled with anticipation. Ali could feel her chest pounding the same way. Three months had passed without any contact with her son. She could never again spend such a lengthy time away from him. Rushing to the door, she opened the door and met Austin on the porch. Both mother and child embraced each other in a comforting hug. Ben exited his car and silently looked on, a subtle smile on his face. Ali had no need to be tough or look strong. She was delighted that tears were streaming down her face. It confirmed that she was a nurturing mother who cared deeply for her offspring. Her wet eyes looked to the sky above. She knew that her parents were looking down on her, hand in hand. It greatly saddened her to know that both of her parents were now dead and gone. But she would always remember and cherish their sacrifices for her and Austin. Without them, she was a nobody who would still be hooked on drugs. She had
a new start at life and she planned on taking full advantage of it.
Austin courteously escaped the loving clutches of her mother’s arms. “I missed you so much, Mom.”
“I missed you too. I’m all better now. I promise.”
“I knew you would be.”
Ali examined her son, head to toe. His hair had grown out substantially to where his dark bangs could hang over his eyes. He might have been taller too. “You’ve grown, son.”
Ben shouted from the short distance away. “You ain’t the only one who thought that. Taylor swore he had grown from just his time with us.”
“Thank you so much, Ben. I can’t appreciate what you did for him while I was gone.”
“Don’t mention it. Well, I’m gonna skedaddle. Gotta do some sort of work today. You two need some time alone anyway. Why don’t you two come on over for supper tomorrow night? Taylor was thinking about enchiladas.”
“Oh, can we, Mom?” blurted Austin. “Aunt Taylor’s enchiladas are freaking amazing!”
Ali smirked. “Yeah, of course, but uh...my-”
“We’ll get your car back to you today,” Ben interrupted, as if reading her mind. He withheld the information that the seat was cleaned of Owen’s blood.
Mother and son waved bye after Ben brought Austin’s bags full of clothes and toys into the house. Once he left and the two of them were alone, Ali wasted no time in giving him another hug. The two talked for hours. She asked many questions. How was the start of school going? Meet any pretty girls? Are you behaving yourself? Austin answered every question truthfully, even admitting he got into trouble last week for talking too much.
Time passed quickly. Before they knew it, the sun was already going down. Austin had the bright idea of playing catch. Ali agreed. There was still just enough light left to see the ball. Finding the gloves, he stopped for a moment, holding Owen’s glove in his left hand. Ali could tell sadness still lingered within the boy. Owen had been the one playing catch with him for all these years. This must have been tough for him. There were bunches of fatherly roles that she had to fill. One of thm was playing the simple act of catch. God, she was pissed remembering all the times she declined his requests in the past. But those days were over, and a new mother had emerged. This boy could now only depend on her and her alone. She was ready for the challenge. Her father helped her see the light.
After fun-filled minutes of throwing the baseball around, though her rustiness of catching and throwing probably dampened some of the fun, Austin stated that it was getting a little difficult to see. She agreed. The last fastball he threw almost hit her in the face. Walking toward the house and her son, she noticed Austin was transfixed, his gaze locked into the setting sun.
“The sunset sure is beautiful, isn’t it?” Ali pointed out, rubbing his slightly sweaty neck with her thumb and middle finger.
“Me and Grandpa watched the sun set a lot.”
She suddenly remembered her father’s final words to her. “Yeah? I can see why.”
Austin turned his head to his mother. “Grandpa always said that no matter what happens in life and no matter how many times the sun sets, it will always rise again. He told me that whenever I was down.”
She didn’t dare pry what he was down about in the past. Ali was sure it related to her. “Your Grandpa was smart.”
Feeling the mood take a downward spiral, Ali showed Austin the baseball in her right hand. Then, inexplicably, she threw the ball high into the sky above them. Austin’s eyes grew wide. For a moment, he tried to locate the ball in the sky. But with the dusk heavens already making it almost impossible to see, he thought it safer to turn tail and flee from the area. Ali had done the same, her plan of replacing the depressing ambience with inexplicable and dangerous excitement was a success. Running away and turning around, the two watched as the ball plopped onto the hard August ground just a few feet where Ali was standing.
“What was that for, Mom!?” Austin inquired with laughter.
Ali just shrugged her shoulders and smiled so widely that it made her cheeks hurt. Austin ran to the ball and picked it up with his glove. He jogged back toward his mother, where she rubbed his head and parted his bangs away from his eyes. She could see her father in a lot of his features, something she was thankful about. Owen had made his mark on both of them, and that would be a fact neither could deny for the entirety of their lives. Ali bent down and kissed his forehead, meanwhile realizing that things were on the right track. Before retiring into the home, the mother and her son took one long look into the orange setting sun. Feeling such warmth and contentment, she felt like her father was right by her side, taking in the sunset with them.
That was all she ever wanted to feel.
Copyright © 2016 by Dustin McWilliams
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law. For permission requests, email the publisher at [email protected]
Cover photo copyright © 2016 by Samir Dave. Other pictures can be viewed at samirdave.com
Comin' Home to You Page 39
