Return

It's never an easy task, and it's always a long one.

Return

 

I grow tired of hearing the slicking noise of the windshield wipers as they move across my front window. That of course makes me aware that the rain has cleared up a little, and my wipers are just swiping at dry glass.

 

Reaching my fingers under the controls for them, I turn it off.

 

It’s dark out. Only the tapping sound of light rain hits my car now as it drives down the freeway. I take a turn at the next exit and slow up a little as my car rolls down the ramp. The roads are still wet.

 

I take a few more turns, following the directions on my paper printed with information from Map Quest. The next left brings me into the neighborhood. I exhale deeply, trying to calm myself. My stomach won’t stop churning. I curse lightly under my breath as I move past street signs, but then I have to force myself to not even think of words like those. Not the best way to make an impression.

 

A stop sign approaches as I hit a four way street and do as ordered. I’m the only car on the road. I take a moment to glance around out my side windows. It’s a very good neighborhood. Each one has a porch with individually placed trees and bushes and flowers. To my right, a gentleman sits in his rocking chair on his porch. He stares at my car, knowing that I don’t live in this area. Either that or one of his neighbors got a new automobile. It’s a small neighborhood.

 

It’s cold and rainy outside. Not the type of view someone would just want to stare at or go out in. The type of rainy day that no matter how quickly you walk outside and back inside, leaves always stick to the bottom of your shoes. The man though, quietly relaxing in his chair, in the cold, is enjoying himself.

 

I drive on.

 

Finally, after a few more turns and one missed street sign that took a little time to locate, I arrive at my destination. I’m late.

 

Not entirely my fault. This neighborhood has changed a lot since the last time I saw it.

 

It’s stopped raining now, and I slowly move across the street before the house’s drive through comes upon me. I hesitate. Should I pull in, or maybe just park on the side of the road? Would they be offended if I didn’t? There are already cars on the street in front of the house and one pulled in the drive way, room for two more.

 

I get nervous, and decide to pull in. I shake my head. I must be crazy doing this.

 

Parking, I switch off the headlights and just sit there for a moment in my car, looking through the windows of the house. I can see a few people inside. Sighing, I slowly take the keys out of the ignition. I open my car door and step out, shut it and tug my brown jacket closer to my body as the cold air enters through and grasps me for the first time since I stopped at the gas station hours back.

 

Placing my hands up to my mouth, I breathe into them and rub them together. But I know I’m not that cold. I’m nervous and that’s causing me to shiver.

 

Shaking my head in frustration I take a few steps to the right, along the sidewalk. The porch is beautiful. Made of wood, with a freshly painted door it looks like. The steps are made of brick.

 

When I take my first one, I stop.

 

I reconsider.

 

Do I really want to do this? It’s been quite a while and especially now? There are a few people inside already. I can come back tomorrow, when it’s just me alone. No distractions.

 

People are distractions.

 

I’m thinking of turning away right then, when the next car I hear drives down the street. I can hardly believe my luck as I watch the four seated Honda pull up right behind my car.

 

I breathe sharply out as my teeth grit together.

 

You got to be kidding me.

 

And now I’m forced into this. To leave, I’d have to go back, and ask the young couple in the car to pull out, not before explaining my story, telling them I’m too chicken to stick around …

 

Without thinking I press the door bell. The cold sweat that takes me is unlike anything I’ve ever had to feel before. I’ve prepared for sweaty hands. Two dry napkins from Wendy’s have been stuffed in my jacket pockets and I press my damp palms against them.

 

I know I have to calm down. This isn’t going to be easy.

 

And when she opens the door, I could kick myself. I’ve forgotten something extremely obvious and that’s going to make this moment very awkward.

 

She stares for a few minutes with a slight smile, one that is filled with little surprise. I immediately want to leave her, the house, and the entire state of Ohio for that matter because what am I supposed to say? I don’t know her age, though she’s probably in her early twenties. She’s really pretty. And even though she gives me a warm smile, I know she must be thinking I’m the pizza man or perhaps a neighbor, asking what the occasion is. But how can I stand telling her the truth?

 

The truth is we’re related … in some way.

 

I don’t even know her name.

 

I cough for a moment, and when she finally realizes I’m not a neighbor and have no food, she questions me.

 

“Hello, may I help you?” Her voice is sweet.

 

“How you doin?” Without waiting for an answer I continue by handing her a letter with a signature she should know signed at the bottom. “I was invited. Nice to meet you.”

 

I reach out my hand and she takes it, though she’s now fully shocked and blinking. She’s wearing a nice dress I notice that’s emerald in color. It suits her fine; actually quite beautiful in it. That’s when I turn my head slightly to look over her shoulder, and see everyone else is dressed well. Me? I have a brown coat, black collar shirt, blue jeans.

 

Not that I look bad or too rugged. But I can’t help but feel slightly embarrassed since these people are wearing dress shirts - some suits - and I can only stand there in my causal brown jacket. The invitation had explained to dress well … my mistake I suppose.

 

We exchange names and she nods, and stares because now she knows exactly who I am. I just move past her and enter the warm house. I can a feel a few finger tips on my arm as she reaches out, but I really have got to move in there and walk further. Get rid of that awkward feeling. Really, I’m only here for two people.

 

The fresh aroma of food fills my nose and I can swear I smell chocolate chip cookies. Must be for the little children running around, and there are a bunch of them. One group laughs and plays on the couch, little boys and girls giggling, playing with a ball and the family dog. Another group has two little girls sitting quietly at the table, listening to an old man " their grandfather? Not mine " tell them a story. Their eyes are very large with curiosity, as most eyes of young children are.

 

Finally one group of teenagers are sitting slightly away from the adult filled crowd. One girl is sitting comfortably in her chair " dressed well of course " speaking with two boys around her age. They aren’t a part of the adults and hesitate when one comes to speak with them. It’s understandable, just not ready to talk yet, unaccustomed to growing up.

 

One of the boys is having a good time talking with the girl about something that’s making them laugh aloud.

 

The other boy is looking right at me. He isn’t frowning, but there isn’t a smile. It’s more of a question, his look, seeing through me, not old enough to determine whether I’m a problem or not.

 

Are you okay? Are you lost?

 

Children have a way of asking those questions through a look, and seeing things you don’t want to see, or have forgotten how to. I nonchalantly slide my gaze from the young man’s staring eyes and concentrate on something else, though inside, I’m anything but calm.

 

A few people also stare, some ignore me " there a lot of people here " and some recognize me. Some frown and some few, smile. I can’t smile back at those, because I can’t remember who they really are. It’s been such a long time since I’ve been in this house. All these people … how am I supposed to talk with them? After six years? Six long years away from home, never turning back to give them a second glance?

 

Half of these people are related to me. Or friends of the family, which if so, in my family means you are family. If that makes sense.

 

No, I’m looking for two people. That’s all that matters now.

 

Should have came by later.

 

I slowly turn my head and gaze at the crowd. I don’t see them.

 

Moving slowly, I head into the kitchen, which is just as warm as I remember. For some reason, I stop just before entering the room. My breathing quickens when I hear her voice.

 

The memories flood in, and I bite my lower lip. I refuse to let this get to me. I’m stronger than this. Leaving home was no easy task, especially at seventeen, moment I got out of high school. Voices being raised, tears having fallen … a kid yelling like a man, at his parents for things that "

 

Happened. Things that just happened.

 

I’d gotten calls of course. Sometimes it’d be my mother, other times my father. Sometimes I’d call them, letting them know I was moving again. It could turn into a fight when things were brought up. Not all the time were rough words exchanged, most of the time it was just … talking with them. Six years just go on. I still have no family and my job is a dead end, but I am somewhat happy. I’ve come a long a way, and no one can say I haven’t.

 

Then one day I get a call, mom asks to be there on this reunion. Just for a couple days, I remember, not even that if I didn’t want to. But my father and mother express their need to see me. Want their son to come home.

 

Return.

 

I’m stronger than this, but returning is sometimes the hardest thing you have to do. To go back where you once were, and ask yourself if whether or not what you’ve done was the right thing. If it wasn’t, or you fall, then to admit it, and ask for forgiveness to those people, that’s tearing. It tears at you, rips you up, until you get it done. Until you get that stone off your chest.

 

I stand for that long moment, shake it off. And walk inside.

 

She’s standing, slowly mixing a pot of some stew on the stove. I can see the steam rise out of it. She’s looking down at it, with a small smile on her face. Her hair is dark brown, and put up nicely in some style which is unique and equally lovely. She’s slender and, six years later, still a beautiful mother who makes you feel at home.

 

My father is beside her, maybe quietly asking how everything is going outside. He has one hand wrapped around her waist. And she laughs lightly. He’s much taller then she is. Lean, with dark brown hair. He’s a guardian to everyone he knows.

 

I stand there just for a moment longer and hesitate, because I can see their faces. They’re thinking about a person they feel is beyond their reach. It isn’t selfish of me to think like that, because I know they are thinking of me and I know what it’s like to long for reconciliation. I know how they feel because I’ve been imagining, wanting to see them for so long as well ... no, that’s not selfish. My mother stops stirring the stew for just a moment, and my father’s speaking quietly once more. She nods with sudden sadness.

 

It’s been such a long time.

 

I cough lightly, catching their attention. She turns sharply toward me, somehow knowing I’d be there before ever catching my sight. My father slowly looks up and gives a smile as recognition comes to his face.

 

I stand awkwardly, looking at them. I can barely move but I smile lightly. It is good to see them.

 

I’ve come such a long way, and now is when I can’t move. I just stand there, looking at them completely frozen.  So many miles travelled, now immobilized with emotion at the last step.

 

It’s alright though. They rush forward and make the rest of the trip for me.

 

 

 

Author's Note

This was written about five years ago, definitely not my newest work, but one of my firsts. Hope you enjoyed it. =)

Reviews

[Sesame]

Hello Marcel,

Good story, I have read it very carefully. I like the build up, the atmosphere and the fact that you have spent just enough time in the car, the drive way and the house. It is well balanced. Besides all the praise I have a lot of suggestions that might improve your story. I hope it helps:

That of course makes me aware that the rain -> "It makes me aware that.."

Reaching my fingers under the controls for them, I turn it off. -> "I reach for the controls and turn them off."

It’s dark out. -> "It is dark outside."

following the directions on my paper printed with information -> "information" equals "directions" and "paper" and "printed" are also of the same meaning. Try editing your sentences to make them more direct and powerful. And Map Quest is not something that everybody knows. Try: "following the directions that I have printed out."

A stop sign approaches as I -> "stop signs" do not approach, approaching suggests moving. It is the guy who approaches the stop sign, not vice versa.

o glance around out my side windows -> "around" and "out" is too much Try: ".. glance out of my side window."

t’s a very good neighborhood. Each one has a porch -> what does "each one" refer to? I understand it to be houses from logical reasoning, but as it is right now you are actually saying that 'each neighborhood has a porch" so refrase to. "Each house has a porch"

"swiping at dry glass." vs. "It’s cold and rainy outside." If it is still rainy, how can you be swiping dry glass? It is a bit confusing.

Not entirely my fault. -> You seem to be adding white space in the middle of paragraphs. The white line before 'Not entirely my fault." makes it unclear what exactly is 'not my fault'.

It’s stopped raining now -> "It has stopped raining now"

before the house’s I slowly move across the street -> slowly moving across the street suggests that your character has already left the car. This is confusing because then comes "Should I pull in, or maybe just park on the side of the road?" Try: "I let the car roll slowly along the street, when I reach the driveway I hesitate..."

Parking, I switch off the -> "I park the car and switch off.."

You start a lot of sentences with verbs in the progressive tense: Parking, Reaching, Sighing, Placing, Shaking... -> you might want to write in a more active style here: I park, I reach, I sigh, I place.

I open my car door -> what other door is there to open? Try: "I open the door."

drive through comes upon me -> "drive throughs" do not come upon people (see the suggestion on the stop sign), I have already given a suggestion for rephrase in a previous comment.

I’m nervous and that’s causing me to shiver. -> Try either "I am nervous and shiver." or "I'm nervous and that is what is causing me to shiver." I would prefer the last one, because it contrasts with the reason not being the cold better.

Made of wood, with a freshly painted door it looks like. -> "Made of wood, with what looks like a freshly painted door." And consider that rainy autumn days are not the most ideal to repaint doors.

You got to be kidding me. -> "You have got to be kidding me."

She stares for a few minutes with a slight smile. -> A few minutes is a very long time to stare at someone, you should try it!

with a signature she should know signed at the bottom. -> "Signed with a signature well-known to her."

she’s wearing a nice dress I notice that’s emerald in color. -> by describing the dress in a story with a first person point of view it is evident that the character is noticing it. Try: "She is wearing a beautiful emerald-color dress." And avoid words like "nice", it is the single most undefining word in the English language.

It suits her fine; actually quite beautiful in it. -> "..actually she looks quite ..."

Now that I think of it, while they are standing in the doorway all that time, what is taking the people from the other car so long?

rugged -> "ragged"

The invitation had explained -> "The invitation said"

dressed well / to dress well / dressed well of course -> what does it mean to "dress well"? That you have put on your shoes on the right foot? I think you might want to empasize a bit more what you mean here, or at least add some variation to your description: try 'elegant' 'stylish' 'smart' 'graceful' or something like that.

The fresh aroma of food -> "The aroma of fresh food."? And what food exactly? If not specified, how can the reader know what it smells like? Bread? Herbs? Eggs? What is the point of first describing the smell of food in general and then adding that he is smelling chocolate cookies."Try merging the two sentences: The fresh aroma of food fills my nose and I can swear I smell chocolate chip cookies. -> "I can swear I smell the aroma of chocolate chip cookies."

" their grandfather? Not mine " " there a lot of people here " -> you might want to use hyphens here instead of quotation marks

Finally one group of teenagers are sitting -> "...group...is sitting" singular

nonchalantly -> although correct the word is a bit out of tone here, try: "casually" or "carelessly"

and some few, smile -> "some smile" or "a few of them smile"

Should have came by later. -> "came" should be "come", and start the sentence with the subject: "I"

especially at seventeen, moment I got out of high school -> "... the moment..."

I’d gotten calls of course. Sometimes it’d be my mother, "I have received calls of course. Sometimes it would be my mother"

not even that if I didn’t want to. -> i do not understand what you are trying to say here

the hardest thing you have to do - "the hardest thing to do."

fall -> "fail"

if whether or not -> "whether or not"

those people, that’s tearing. It tears at you, rips you up, until you get it done. -> "those people, it tears at you, rips you up, until you get it done."

maybe quietly asking how everything is going outside. -> Outside? I thought all the people were inside.. It was a rainy day if I recall correctly?

A general note: As a reader you want to know what this guy is up to. But by not making that clear earlier in the story it is harder to get attached to him, understand his hesitance. You ask yourself: why is this such a big deal? I would find it more gripping if I understood a little more of what he was up to earlier in the story, in a way that will make me think: This guy must be absolutely terrified to go there. Will he follow through? Or not?

The title is spot on. I would not add 'A' or 'The', without it, just like it is now, it describes the powerful and wanting plea from a mother and father, with 'A' or 'The' it becomes a description of a boy coming home, it would be much more dry and flat (sorry Confuser).

Also the ending is good like it is. For me, this story is about bridging the gap (emotionally and physically) between the guy and his parents. And about a longing, acknowledging feelings and not giving up on each other. If you were to describe the long hug and the conversation that followed it would become a soggy happy ending tale instead of merely beautiful.

Good job Marcel, but still some work to do! It can be more direct, powerful and gripping.

Regards, Sesame.

@followsesame on Twitter
www.themagiccave.com

[Marcel Grant]

So much more then what I was wanting. Thank you for putting the time into that review, and I'll get on making the edits as soon as I can. (they do make a lot more sense lol) Thanks a ton!

Really glad you liked it. Yeah I really didn't want a long over due reunion ending. I wanted it be understood what kind of connection the three of them had, even if you don't see it.

And I agree with the title as well. "Returning" wasn't just what happens, but the idea as well.

Again thanks so much Sesame!

[Marcel Grant]

*And by "wanting" I meant, I thought you'd only give a small little review instead of a deep one, which I totally prefer the deep one, so thanks! xD

[Gabrielle Linch]

To me, it sounds like he got into a huge fight with his parents at 17 and decided that enough was enough and he needed to grow up and be on his own. After 6 years of little to no communication, he is worried about them being disappointing in him and has anxiety about seeing them for the first time in a long time. He feels as if they won't be as excited to see him, even though his mother invited him to the family reunion. Or maybe he feels like this encounter will start another fight. But most of all, I feel like he is afraid of admitting he was in the wrong. That he messed up and he can't do it all alone. That he wants to come back home.

[Marcel Grant]

Thanks for the read! Yep, while some of it was made to be vague, that's the gist of it.

[Gabrielle Linch]

Yeah of course! It was a good read. I read the comments before reading the story and someone said they thought he was adopted, but that doesn't seem like the case here so just trying to make sense of what I got out of it!

[Marcel Grant]

Yeah he's not adopted at all xD Glad you liked it c:

[Thesecuts]

Okay, just want to say I that I found this very entertaining

[Marcel Grant]

Thanks a lot, appreciate the read!

[Thesecuts]

:) no problem

[Confuser]

Okay Michael: It's a good story: Maybe for the title, A Return or The Return, but whatever you like. The informal style fits and the language is clear. You gave a strong build-up for the anticipation of the return. I really thought, about him being adopted, and meeting his biological parents. I was looking for a little more description is some areas but that's about all: like her emerald dress ...I don't know, glowed bright against the now hazy day...but the content is still good. I enjoyed the story; thank you for suggesting it to me. Now I do think you can make the ending a little stronger, albeit, I am a novice, but look, after 7 years....what about an embrace that sheds away all the fear. Good writing. Thank you so much. Dale

[Marcel Grant]

No, thank you! Appreciate and glad you liked it!

I actually left the ending like that cause I wanted the reader to just imagine what would happen. Would they clasp hands, hug, enjoy dinner, sit and talk for a while? It's up to the reader I guess. =D

[Confuser]

You're right! It's our perception, No? It's still good work...you are talented: Keep writing!!! Bye for now...Dale