Can't Go Home (350 hits)
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Submitted by rick_the_stud (View user info) at 2005-07-21 11:11:13 EDT
It was late when he pulled into town, sometime well past 11:00. The first thing he realized as he got a little closer to town was how amazingly rural the place was. Since he'd moved away to Annapolis he'd grown accustomed to urbanization (and traffic, and politics, too.) After he'd passed Roanoke, the Interstate-81 corridor had become more and more devoid of civilization, populated only with towns nestled in the mountain foothills who owed their existence to a total of two exits off the highway. He just hadn't realized his hometown was this backwoodsy. Then again, time and distance had a way of giving one the clarity needed to see things a little more truthfully and honestly.
It'd been five or six years since he'd been in town, and he was just glad to find the place. Slowly, somewhat lackadaisically, he pulled into the parking lot outside the restaurant and took a spot facing the road. He felt a little out of place stepping out of his car, realizing his was the only one in the parking lot that was less than five years old. There wasn't anyone in the parking lot to actually make him feel out of place, but he could already tell this little excursion back into his youth would be interesting.
Heavy with nostalgia, he meandered to the front of the establishment, a 24-hour restaurant that served breakfast all day and average "American cuisine" otherwise. It was one of the few places he could actually meet his friend because the night life was decidedly lacking if one wanted to avoid a twenty-minute drive to a bigger town. Consequently, this meant that this particular diner was as good a place as any to meet anyone in town who happened to be under the age of thirty.
Before he even got to the door he saw her. "Jane!"
She sprinted towards him, nearly tackling him with a full-force bear hug. "Chris! How are you? It's been so long. I'm soooo glad you're here..." she just looked up at him and smiled for a moment. "C'mon, let's go inside."
Chris headed towards the door, using Jane's head as an armrest, reminiscent of their days back in high-school. Jane was Mexican and had never been very tall, whereas Chris was six-foot-two, so the top of her head was the perfect height for him to place his forearm.
They'd been good friends back in high school; they'd never dated or anything like that (she was involved on-and-off for quite some time with two different guys) but they knew each other pretty well. They tried to keep in touch via email which worked decently, though sporadically, but when he decided to come back for a visit, she was the first to know.
They ambled through the entrance and were greeted by the host. Chris swore he recognized him but couldn't place a name and face. Considering he'd grown up here though, he was pretty confident that he knew the person; he just couldn't remember. Then it hit him; the guy had played football back in the day, an attribute which made him very popular at the time, especially in Virginia. Now he worked the graveyard shift at a restaurant. Chris couldn't help but have at least passing thoughts about how the mighty had fallen.
As he followed Jane and the host back to their table, he noticed they were headed for the smoking section. "Jane, when did you pick up smoking?"
"What? What're you talking about?" she asked.
"Do you smoke now? Why are we sitting back here?"
"Oh, we're meeting Paul here," she said.
"Paul McIntyre?" he asked
Jane nodded.
"You mean the same Paul McIntyre who graduated two years after we did? The same one who played saxophone in our shitty little marching band? The same kid who I sometimes gave rides home to? That mild-mannered, intelligent guy who girls liked but could never 'like?'" He paused for breath.
Jane replied, "Yep. The same one."
Chris regained his composure. "Oh, okay, just checking," he said. Then, a brief moment later he managed to assemble a few things mentally. "Paul smokes now?" he asked, doing a poor job of concealing his surprise.
"Yes, Paul smokes," Jane said, mildly exasperated and amused at his reaction. "Why? Is there a problem?"
"Not at all; I was just curious."
As Chris let that sink in the waitress came by the table. "Hi there. How are y'all doin' t'nigh'? My name's Peggy and I'll be your waitress t'nigh'. If y'all need anythin', jus' holler. So," the forty-something waitress paused for effect, "What can I get y'all t' drink?"
While Peggy went to get two waters, Jane and Chris continued their conversation.
"How have you been? I mean really, how's it going?" Chris asked honestly.
"Okay, I guess. I just—"
"Chris Robertson. How's it going?"
Jane had been interrupted by a waiter who apparently remembered who Chris was, despite Chris honestly having no recollection of the waiter, though he did manage to stammer, "Uh, hey. What's up?"
"Not too much, really. I mostly work here, just 'til I can get some extra cash. Then I'm gettin' the hell outta here. How 'bout you? What have you been up to?"
"Not too much, either," Chris said. "I'm a temp engineering consultant based out of Annapolis, Maryland. I spend a lot of my time traveling to different industrial and military sites training maintenance crews and systems operators."
"Oh. Well, that's...good. Anyway, I just wanted to say 'hey.'"
With that he left them and Peggy returned with their drinks. "So, have y'all decided on what you'd like t' eat?"
Jane and Chris just looked at each other for a moment before shaking their heads. "No, sorry," Chris replied for both of them. "If we could just have a minute, that'd be great."
"Sure thing, honey. Take your time."
Chris turned back to his friend, "Who was that?"
Jane looked at him smugly, "That was our waitress."
Chris chuckled. "No, you smart-ass. Who was that waiter who came to talk to me — us?"
Jane smiled, "No, you're right. He wanted to talk to you, not me. That was Joe Damon. Don't you remember him?"
Vague memories of the freshman class clown floated into the back of Chris' head. "Yeah, I do, now that I think about it. He was a pretty funny guy. But why would he want to talk to me?"
Jane didn't have time to respond before Peggy returned, ready as ever to take their order. "Have y'all decided what you want?"
"If we could have just another minute, that would be great," Jane said. "We've been talking more than we've been looking at the menu. Sorry."
Peggy just smiled, "Not a problem darlin'. Y'all take your time."
"Anyway," Chris continued, "Why would he want to talk to me?"
"You left," Jane replied quite simply.
Apparently Chris still didn't quite understand. "Huh? What do you mean 'I left?' What difference does that make? I didn't really even know Joe that well."
"Chris," Jane looked at him pedagogically, "don't you get it? Nobody leaves. Most of the people in this damn town spend their whole life here. But you, you...you left. You don't live here anymore. You made it. Everybody always says there gonna leave and then they end up twenty-three years old working retail at J.C. Penny six days a week and going to the community college for their tenth semester of their nursing degree. Then one day they turn forty-five and realize that their retail job isn't just a 'temporary thing' anymore. You're practically a celebrity because you didn't end up like that."
Chris didn't know what to say, especially considering that Jane was twenty-three and worked retail at J.C. Penny to help pay for her nursing degree. "Oh."
It was just at this opportune moment that Peggy returned. "Well, darlin', have y'all decided?"
Chris was exasperated and wanted nothing more than to tell her that they'd order when they were damn good and ready. Instead, he said, "Sure. I'll just have some chicken tenders. Thanks."
"And for you honey?" she asked Jane.
"How much is a biscuit and gravy?"
"One dollar ninety-nine, honey. Is that okay?"
"Sure," Jane said. "I'll have that."
When Peggy had finally gone Chris offered to pay. "Seriously, I can spot you two dollars. It's no big deal. Consider it a treat, on me."
Jane needed very little convincing, "Okay, Chris. Thanks."
Paul showed up shortly thereafter. "Hey, man. Didn't you move or something like that?" he asked Chris.
"Yeah, I did. I'm just back in town visiting some people," Chris replied. "So, how have you been?"
"Not too bad. I just got a job at Wal-Mart a couple days ago. It's great. I'm a 'School Supplies Sales Associate.' That means I get to put paper on the shelves," Paul explained.
Chris just looked at him for a moment. "Um...great. I'm happy for you, man. Hey, that reminds me; I drove past that part of town on the way here. What happened to the mall? It looks dead."
Jane told him without any grandiose overtures: "It's gone down the shitter."
"Oh..."
* * *
A couple hours later after Chris had paid for everyone's meal and Paul had already gone, Chris and Jane were sitting on the hood of his car watching the traffic. "I just can't believe Paul."
"What do you mean?" asked Jane.
"I mean, look at him. He used to be such a good kid. Now he smokes and drinks and is gay and addicted to crack. Doesn't that bother you?" he asked sincerely.
Chris watched a single tear run down her cheek as Jane smiled wryly.
"People change, Chris."
User Reviews
Submitted by precision (user info) at 2005-07-21 12:00:27 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
I liked it, guess it kinda hits home a little bit.
Submitted by apollo88 (user info) at 2005-07-21 11:59:25 EDT (#)
Ranking: -2
Chris watched a single tear run down her cheek