as bitterness rose up my throat. “But I’ll never forget.”
Shayne
August
I sat in the back of the taxi as the driver steered us toward the familiar streets of my hometown, still buzzing from my latest work experiences and my journey home. Man, I had so much going on in my head—not to mention every time I caught sight of myself in a mirror, I had a brief moment of wondering who that guy was. That tan startled me every time. I hadn’t even started to decompress, but exhaustion was on its way, and it would hit hard when it arrived.
I glanced out of the window at the blue sky and the familiar sun, both things that had seemed so different in another country. It probably always would, while I was sitting in an air-conditioned vehicle. My chest tightened at a sudden surge of memories. I wouldn’t miss the blazing sun that never seemed to let up, that was for sure—all those people lived in such parched conditions all the time. I shook my head, regret spiraling through me for the extreme depths of poverty I’d witnessed and recorded as part of the documentary. It had been equal parts heartbreaking and humbling.
And I couldn’t do anything but watch it through a lens and hope people with more power than me could take appropriate action to help, rescue, save.
I usually had fun on my jobs, but this one had been different. It had been valuable and rewarding, but every day had been a challenge in more ways than I could have imagined. Yet people had still laughed and children had still played. Even in situations that would have broken me, humanity found a way.
The introspection the documentary had started was often uncomfortable, but it was also necessary. I had to find other ways to make a difference. Observing through a lens was one thing, but I needed to create opportunities where I could actually help facilitate change for the better in someone’s life.
It didn’t feel good enough to just record the bad shit.
I sighed as my phone buzzed in my pocket. I slid it out and checked the reminder to give Kane a call when I got close to home. The taxi sped past the Welcome to Lakeshore sign. I grinned. Probably he’d wanted to know before I actually entered the city, but better late than never.
I hit my speed dial and listened to the ringtone pressed against my ear.
“Hey, Shayne!”
At Kane’s smooth baritone, I almost teared up, and I didn’t know if it was relief to be home or sheer exhaustion and the knowledge I’d soon be able to rest. Maybe a little of both. “Hey, dude.” My voice came out tense as I fought to keep the sudden emotion at bay. “I just got into town. I’ll be with you shortly. I’m headed straight to you.”
“You okay? What do you want first? A coffee or a pillow?” Kane sounded concerned.
“Neither. Both. I don’t know.” I laughed. “My head is still in a different time zone. I might go to bed and not emerge for the next three weeks.” I glanced out of the window again at the endless strip malls lining the main thoroughfare through Lakeshore, feeling out of place in the familiar surroundings. Culture shock was a bitch I hadn’t expected on returning home.
“Well, I have coffee and a bed for as long as you want them.”
“Thanks, bro. See you soon.” I ended the call with the touch of my finger and slumped a little in the seat.
Being away had been difficult in many ways, but being back was equally as hard. I’d let my last long-term apartment lease lapse months and months ago because I’d been around so little, so I’d been staying with friends or month-to-month stays in furnished places.
I had nowhere to call home.
But now I wanted somewhere of my own, somewhere to build a base and a life. I had so much to appreciate beyond just travel, and I’d never taken the time to do that because I’d never stopped trying to escape from, well... my life.
Staying with Kane would be nice, but it would also be short-term. I needed to find a place of my own. I clicked to the web browser on my phone and pulled up a list of local apartments to rent, spending the rest of my journey idly scrolling through them.
I looked at Kane’s house as the taxi pulled up at the curb.
His yard was perfect, with the regulation housing association