Torn Souls

by Cattabriga, crystal

  Climbing out of bed, I slid on my slippers and headed down stairs to the kitchen where I could smell Mom cooking breakfast. There, already on a plate waiting for me, was scrambled eggs, bacon and toast with a glass of orange juice. After eating, Mom and I started wrapping knick knacks and picture frames from the living room. Then she suggested we start packing some of my stuff. I knew my room was going to be an all-day project.

  Half way through, the only thing we had really packed was my books. Mom asked me if I wanted to give some of them away to Goodwill, but I explained to her that even though I had read them all, I was attached. “Mom, you know how you’re attached to your shoes?” I asked.

  “Yes, Julia,” Mom said, knowing what I was about to say next.

  “Well, that’s how attached I am with my books, but if you want me to donate some other stuff, I will,” I said smiling at her.

  “Maybe, you can clean out your closet. Let’s put a box over to the left and I’ll write donate on it and you can throw whatever you want in it. Then Monday on my way to work I’ll drop it off at good-will,” she said with a proud look on her face.

  The time was going by pretty fast and half of my room was packed up. Mom suggested we stop and take a break to eat lunch. Dad had called while Mom was making BLT’s to see how the packing was going and if Mom needed anything before he headed home. Bubble wrap and a bottle of wine she told him. I was kind of shocked at the request for wine. I mean, the only time I’d ever seen Mom drink was at holiday gatherings.

  After lunch, we headed back to my room hoping to finish up. Mom’s plan was for me to only have clothes and the necessities to get me through the next week. The moving truck was coming next Friday and we were to be in New York on Saturday. I still couldn’t wrap my head around the fact that we were no longer going to live in Ohio. Here in my small little town the houses were not that close. Our nearest neighbor is at least a football field away. There are farmers that own lots of corn fields, chicken houses, and dairy farms.

  Mom and I finally finished packing the last of my stuff just before Dad came home. I was so exhausted I could hardly stand up. The only thing I wanted to do was take a shower and go to bed, but I knew that wasn’t going to happen for a while. Taping up the last box and writing “miscellaneous” on it, I heard Dad calling through the house, “You guys, I’m home and I come bearing gifts.” Great, more bubble wrap was all I thought.

  “Come on, Julia. Leave that stuff on the bed,” Mom said while walking out of the room.

  I found it a little weird that I had to go with her. I mean, it’s not like every time my dad came home I greeted him at the door. In any case I was glad that we were calling it quits on the packing until tomorrow. Ugh, that reminded me. There went my sleeping in on Sunday, too. Following Mom in the kitchen, I noticed Dad putting bags on the table. I really couldn’t tell what he brought home. It sure looked like more than just bubble wrap and wine.

  “Hi, honey,” Mom said while kissing Dad on the lips.

  Ugh, did they really need to make out in front of me? That was the last image I wanted stuck in my head. Did they not know that eventually I’d need some serious counseling if they kept on doing stuff like that in front of me? No kid wants to see their parent be all mushy in front of them. Clearing my throat and tapping my foot on the floor I said, “Hello, I’m standing right here.”

  “Oh, Julia, I didn’t see you standing there,” Dad said with his face all flustered.

  “Yep, well I am. Can I suggest something to both of you?” I asked.

  “Sure, all right,” Mom answered.

  “Now, I’m just saying, so keep that in mind, but maybe you guys should get a room,” I said while snickering at the both of them.

  Just then Dad decided to darted after me saying, “Oh, really. You think so.” I hated when my dad chased me. He somehow thought I enjoyed being chased through the house while screaming, knowing he would eventually catch me. I really think my parents should have had another kid. Clearly he didn’t see that I wasn’t a little girl anymore. Thank God for Mom. After a couple of minutes of me running through the living room, out the door, around the house, and then into the garage while opening the door that lead back into the kitchen, Mom whistled loudly which stopped both Dad and I in our tracks.

  “Okay, both of you, enough,” Mom command like we were two pit bulls chasing each other.

  I couldn’t believe how out of breath I was. Come to think of it, I was kind of panting like a pit bull. As Dad was catching his breath he laughed a little as Mom stared us down. I wanted to say, “Oh, Mom, relax, have a glass of wine,” but I didn’t want to push her, so I kept my mouth closed.

  Once Dad stopped breathing so heavily, he said, “All right, we’re done being foolish.”

  “Good, can we just all wash for dinner then?” Mom asked.

  Boy, did she look like she was about to break. It was probably due to all the packing and getting up at the crack of dawn. I was hoping she’d think about sleeping in a little later tomorrow, but knowing her she’d still be up early again. Just as I was making my way toward the bathroom to wash up, I realized I smelt something wafting in the air. It actually smelt like Chinese.

  “Is that dinner in those bags?” I asked being nosey, and of course because I was hungry.

  “Yes, I knew I’d be exhausted from packing, so I asked your dad to pick up some Chinese. I know what you’re thinking. Mom’s not cooking. What’s the world coming to, an end? I figured that seeing as we’ll need to pack up most of the kitchen tomorrow, why dirty some dishes?” Mom said as if she had to explain herself. I think the guilt of not cooking like she usually does was kind of bothering her. Heck, I didn’t care what we ate, as long as I fed my growling stomach.

  It had been a long time since we had Chinese, so I told myself that I would eat it nice and slow to savor every bit, but my mouth had other plans. Before I knew it, I had inhaled my food like a crazed animal who just found a gourmet meal out of a dumpster. After dinner, Mom said she’d clean up so I could go take a shower and relax. Usually, I’d offer to help, but I was really wiped out and just wanted to get into bed.

  Once I was under my covers, I set my timer on my TV and fell fast asleep. The next morning I woke up not to my mom’s voice telling me to get up. No, I woke up to the sound of a chainsaw which startled me. Pulling off my covers, I walked over to my window pulling back the curtains and yanking up the blinds. Across the field was a man cutting down some trees. I couldn’t believe someone was up so early making all kinds of racket.

  Knowing I was never going to go back to sleep with all that noise, I slip my slippers on and headed for the bathroom. Standing in front of the sink, I turned on the faucet and splashed some cold water on my face to wake me up. After wiping my face, I looked up in the mirror. I hated looking at myself in the mirror. If I looked like Jennifer Aniston or Kate Beckinsale then I’d stare at myself all day, but I didn’t. I was just an awkward looking girl who had no beauty.

  Mom wasn’t up when I came downstairs, but Dad was. He was sipping his morning coffee as usual and reading the paper. I wasn’t ready to hear him rant about some article he found in the newspaper. I just wanted to grab a banana and head back to my room.

  “Hey, kid, want me to make you something?” Dad asked like he knew his way around the kitchen.

  “Cook me, breakfast? ”

  I looked around and then back at him. I wasn’t sure how to reply to what he was asking. Never has he cooked anything. Was I supposed to take a chance and let him? Then again it was strange that Mom wasn’t already in here cooking.

  “Sure, I guess, but where’s Mom?” I asked with curiosity seeing it was way past eight in the morning. There was no way she was still sleeping. She must have run out to the store for something.

  “She’s still in bed sleeping,” Dad answered with a weird look upon his face.

  “Sleeping? What’s wrong with her? Yesterday, she had me up before the rooster was even up. Oh, no, it’s my turn to ge
t her moving,” I said walking toward her room, but Dad grabbed me before I made it very far.

  “Julia, let her sleep,” he whispered while we stood next to the closed door to their bedroom.

  I wasn’t sure why he was letting her sleep in. Slowly walking back into the kitchen I asked, “Is Mom sick or something?”

  “No, not exactly, sick. It’s just; well you know how your mom hardly ever drinks unless a holiday comes around, right?” Before he could say anything else, I began to laugh my butt off. Quickly, Dad put his hand over my mouth and said, “Shhh, Julia.”

  “So what you are saying is that Mom has a hang over?” I asked.

  “Yes, she does and when she gets up you better not tease her,” Dad said with a serious look on his face.

  “Okay, I won’t. So what can you cook for breakfast?”

  “Hmm, that’s a good question. How about you and I go into town and eat at Flap Jack Joe’s?” Dad asked with a smile as if to say, “Please don’t make me cook because I can’t.”

  “Sounds like a plan. Let me just get changed and I’ll be down in a minute.”

  After enjoying a nice morning out with Dad, we headed back to the house. Mom was awake and dressed up like she was heading to the office. I was sure Mom said she had the weekend off, but then again her job is demanding. I was sure Dad was going to be a little upset, so I quickly made my way to my room to get out from the line of fire. I didn’t hear any bickering back and forth. Instead I heard my mom say she’d be back in a few hours and then the door closed. Knowing it was safe to go back down stairs, I went looking for my dad to see what he was up too.

  I headed straight for his bedroom where I saw him tossing some stuff into a box marked junk. He did seem a little peeved. I wasn’t sure if it was because of my mom leaving or if it was because my mom marked a box that read “junk” telling him to get rid of some of his stuff. I love my mom, but sometimes she could be overbearing.

  “Hey, Dad, I’ll help if you want. My room is basically done,” I said while patting his back for support. I knew he was trying not to show how upset he was. My parents hardly fought or if they did, they never did it in front of me.

  “You don’t have to, Julia. Wouldn’t you rather go outside?” He asked sounded like he really wanted to be alone.

  “Go outside? What am I supposed to do outside?”

  “Take a walk or pick flowers,” he suggested even though he knew what he’d just said sounded silly.

  “Sure, that’s what I’ll do. Run through the field and pick flowers, really, Dad?” I said in a playful but sarcastic tone.

  “You’re right. Just hang with me. It’s probably better that you help anyways. Knowing me I’ll mess up packing and your mom will have my head on a platter,” Dad said with a smile on his face which made me feel better.

  Chapter Six

  Mom came home three hours later while Dad and I were just finishing up filling the last box in the room. I was surprised when I didn’t see any bags in her hand. I was expecting dinner. Maybe she’d have Dad run out to get something. After Mom changed into more comfortable clothes, she headed in the kitchen and pulled out a frying pan from the cabinet.

  “Oh, I see you’re going to cook tonight,” I said with a surprised tone.

  “Yes, I figured this way we won’t all get too comfortable eating out all the time.”

  “What are we having?”

  “I’m going to make something simple. I was thinking some grilled cheese. Does that sound good?” She asked as if I was going to say no.

  “Sure, that’s fine.”

  “Julia, where’s your dad?” Mom asked as if she didn’t know he’d still be in the room packing.

  “He’s just finishing up in the bedroom. I’ll go get him.”

  I was so happy to be almost done with packing up the house, but I was dreading the next part. Once we arrived at our new place we’d have to unpack everything. I was sure hoping Mom wasn’t going to make me start school on that Monday. After dinner, Mom and Dad spent time together watching an old Clint Eastwood movie while I went right to sleep.

  When I woke the next morning to get dressed for school Dad came in my room to let me know that I could stay home only if I agreed to finish packing around the house. Of course, I agreed. I didn’t even see the point of going to school for the rest of the week knowing Friday would be my last day there. Now that I was somewhat awake and had no intentions of trying to go back to sleep, I headed downstairs.

  I found Mom in the living room. She was already chatting on the phone and by the tone in her voice I could tell who she was talking to. “No! I think the price I’m asking for is fair. This is non-negotiable, Nancy,” she said as she paced back and forth. I wasn’t about to stick around and find out how that conversation was going to end, so I grabbed a muffin from the kitchen and headed back to my room.

  Sitting up in my bed, I messed around with my phone for a while. I downloaded a couple of free books on Amazon for my Kindle App, played Angry Birds, but then found myself becoming bored. I had no one to text or call. I was hoping I’d at least make a friend at my new school, so this way I could actually use my phone for what it really was intended for, to talk or text. It was just about twelve in the afternoon when I realized I hadn’t packed anything. If I didn’t get moving, I’d sure to be in trouble, so for the rest of the afternoon, I found whatever needed to be pack and threw it into boxes. I gave up when it was time for dinner. After I ate, I decided to go for a walk through Mr. Andrews’s field just to get some fresh air.

  On my way back home, I noticed that Mr. Andrews’s porch light was on and he was sitting in his old wooden rocker, so I decided to pay him a visit. He had always been nice to me growing up. Thinking back, I remember watching him and his daughter from my porch ride horses together in the field. Sometimes I could hear their laughter in the distance which always made me giggle. Sadly, five years ago, his daughter died. I never really sat down and asked him what happened, but it was in the local paper, and I did however read the article. It stated that she was thrown from her horse while riding and broke her neck.

  As I walked toward the porch, I waved while saying, “Hello, Mr. Andrews, it’s Julia. ”

  I knew he didn’t get much company and by the look on his face he was happy someone had come to visit him. He lived alone. Apparently, after the loss of his daughter, he fell into a deep depression I heard and no longer works. Most of the time, I see him taking care of his farm and sitting on his porch just rocking back and forth.

  “Oh, this is a pleasant surprise. I haven’t seen you in a long time, Julia,” he said sounding like I had just brightened up his day.

  “Yes, it has been a while, Mr. Andrews. I was taking a walk when I noticed you sitting out here by yourself,” I said, then realizing what an idiot I was. It was bad enough he knew he was alone, but for me to remind him was like kicking a man when he’s down.

  “Can you stay for a while or do you have to hurry back home?” he asked with a spark of hope in his voice.

  “Yes, I can stay for a while. I don’t have to be home anytime soon,” I replied while smiling.

  For over an hour we chatted about all kinds of things. I told him that I’d be moving to New York in a week and I was scared. He reminded me that no matter what I did or where I went in life it’s always scary at first, but taking a risk on something new is an adventure. It sounded good when he said it, but it didn’t change the fact that I was still scared. As the sun started to set, I knew I should be heading home, so I politely thanked Mr. Andrews for all the advice, and told him I’d send him a postcard.

  While I was getting up to leave, he stood up and placed his hand on my shoulder and said, “Well, Julia, it’s been a pleasure. Remember the only way to conquer fear is to look it straight in the eye. You’re going to do just fine, Julia. Don’t ever live with the two words 'if only' in your life, because if you do then you will also have to live with the word, 'regret'.”

  “Honestly, I do feel tha
t if only I had come to visit you more often I wouldn’t be as sad as I am right now. I’ve truly enjoyed myself and regret not taking the time to come see you more and now I’ll be leaving,” I said to him with tears forming in my eyes. It sucked. All this time I thought I had no one, but I did, and he was right across the road.

  While reaching out, he wiped the tears that fell from my eyes and said, “My child, you have a good heart. It’s alright. I’ll see you again. You can come back and visit me anytime you want.”

  He was right. I’d make sure to come back and visit him. When I arrived back home, Dad was sitting in the living room watching CNN and eating ice cream out of the carton. I was shocked because I knew Mom hated when he did that.