One and Done - S. Briones Lim Page 0,36

want to.

One foot after the other, I dragged myself up the cracked pathway toward the front door. Lifting my head slightly, I bit back a gasp when I realized the lump by her side wasn’t a little brother or sister but rather a huge tank of oxygen. Painted a dark colored green, it was a wonder I thought the metal tank could be a person. Wishful thinking, I guess.

Mom’s cracked lips broke out into a weary smile as she lifted a frail hand to wave. It shook slightly out of fear? Excitement? I wasn’t sure. All I knew was that this…this person was not the same woman I recalled. She was a figment of that memory. She was only a ghost.

I reached the bottom step and shrugged my shoulders uncomfortably. Not knowing what to say, I bit out the one word that came to mind, “Mom?”

“Your dad said you’d be coming. Surprised you didn’t at least call me first.” Her words didn’t hold the same bite they used to. Her raspy voice prevented it from sounding like any more than a hoarse complaint.

“Uh, yeah. Sorry about that.”

The winter cold traveled underneath my beanie, feeling as if somebody had dumped an ice bucket over me. Mom frowned as I shivered and finally scuttled out of the way. “Guess you should go inside?”

You think?

I nodded and squeezed past her, careful not to knock her over. Once I stepped inside, the familiar smells caused my stomach to churn. Talk about a blast from the past. I was immediately transported back to a time long ago, and good God, how I couldn’t wait to hop in a time machine and be done with everything again.

Glancing over my shoulder, I frowned as she dragged the tuba sized tank behind her. “You know I’m getting you a nurse, right?”

“Figured you wouldn’t want to stay,” she shot back.

***

The rest of the afternoon was strained and awkward. Trying our best to avoid one another, I went about my sonly duties and fixed my mother’s meals, cleaned up the house, and even paid some bills with her surprisingly padded account. Apparently in the five years I was gone she too had reinvented herself and even held a few jobs. Good on her.

While I was bent over the kitchen sink, arms halfway submerged in grease and bubbly water, she scuffled toward me and tugged at my sleeve. “Jesse, I’m sorry…”

I froze. Was this finally the moment? Would she finally apologize for years’ worth of horrible parenting and emotional strain?

I swallowed. “For what?”

“But can you pick up my prescription at the drugstore? I would but…” She burst into coughs, which I couldn’t help but think she had forced out.

Dropping a bowl into the bubbly pool of water, I wiped my hands, feeling dumber than ever. Apologies should never be expected. Especially from someone who never thought she was wrong.

“Fine.” I turned and grabbed my keys, suddenly feeling suffocated. “I’ll see you later.”

The drive to the drugstore was nothing short of surreal. The familiar sights and sounds made me feel as if I had never left; a feeling that just didn’t sit right with me.

Just a ten minute drive away, I pulled into the lot and rolled into the furthest space imaginable, once again feeling a need to stall. The ominous pastel yellow building stared back at me, teasing me with bad memories. For years I’d practically lived in the tiny supermarket, a place where the Tylers were infamous for being fuck ups. How could we not be? It was the only place in town that served liquor.

“Ah, Johnson’s Groceries, we meet again. What bullshit will you feed me today?” I yanked my keys from the ignition and jumped onto the cold street. Shielding my eyes from the winter glare, I shook my head in disgust. “How did I get back here?”

Dragging my feet across the icy asphalt, I was somehow transported back to being that thirteen-year-old kid who used to swipe beer bottles for his mother. Sure, I was caught a few times, but by the fourth attempt I think the manager felt sorry for me and just let me go. In another blink of an eye, I was suddenly a dumb fifteen-year-old. This kid grew some balls and would actually steal cigarettes right from under the cashiers’ noses. Looking back, I knew no one could have been that stupid, but somehow everyone turned a blind eye on me.

Maybe that’s why I became so messed up.

I reached the front of the