Mychael Black - Heart & Home 0 - Going Home.pdf

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Going Home
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Going Home
by Mychael Black
Torquere Press
Copyright ©2005 by Mychael Black
First published in www.torquerepress.com, 2006
NOTICE: This eBook is licensed to the original purchaser
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Distributed by Fictionwise.com
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Going Home
by Mychael Black
"Yeah, Mama, I'll be there." Cigarette caught in his lips,
Robbie cradled the phone between his ear and his shoulder as
he shielded the lighter from the breeze coming in through the
window. He tossed the disposable Bic on the coffee table and
took a slow drag as quietly as possible.
"Robert Sexton! Are you smoking?"
Fuck. Obviously not quietly enough.
Letting out the smoke on a natural exhale, Robbie did the
only thing he could at that moment: he lied. "No, of course
not, Mama."
"Well, that's good. Burying your daddy in a few days
because of those wretched things. Can't have my boys
smoking now too."
Robbie groaned quietly. "Yes, Mama. I take it Russ is going
to be there."
"Now, Robert. Don't come down here expecting to make a
big fuss with your brother. He's doin' good now."
What? Not mooching off of his parents, you mean? That's
what Robbie wanted to ask, but he bit his tongue. No need to
get Mama all upset. She had enough going on. Robbie
stubbed out his cigarette and got up from the couch. If he
was going back home, he'd need to get drunk before doing it.
Down there, among birth family, no one knew him. Not the
real him, anyway.
"I promise," he said. "I won't start anything. But I still
don't think it's right for him to lean on you every time he gets
into a bind. I'll be there in a couple of days."
"Love you, son."
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Going Home
by Mychael Black
"Love you, too, Mama." Robbie waited until the line went
dead before hanging up. He was so not looking forward to this
trip. Trip? Hell, it was more than that and he knew it.
His lease was up and there was nothing open in the city for
him, work-wise. From big city to backwoods Athens, Alabama.
Damn, he was insane. He had to be to agree to move back
down South. And to a farm , no less! He knew nothing about
raising animals, baling hay, or riding a horse. Even as a kid,
he spent most of his time inside, drawing and sketching.
Closet or no, he knew quite a few people in his family had the
sneaking suspicion that he wasn't straight. Only one of them,
his cousin Danny, knew it was true; and Danny wasn't far
from that sort of family himself, considering he enjoyed both
sexes.
Robbie set the phone on its base and resumed the arduous
task of packing. The worst parts were done already: clothes
and books. His computer was still set up and he would pack it
last. He'd promised Danny he'd shoot him an email before
leaving. Thankfully, the efficiency had come furnished—a rare
treat and he'd been lucky to find it. But now, with no job and
his savings quickly dwindling, he was out of luck. He had just
enough to make it to Alabama with one stay-over, possibly in
Knoxville, and then a bit to spare once he got settled at
Mack's. He thanked God that Mack at least had a cable
internet connection. Downloading porn on dial-up was an
oxymoron half the time.
By six in evening, the bed of the truck was nearly
overflowing with boxes and bags. The computer went in the
cab beside him and Robbie stared out the windshield at what
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Going Home
by Mychael Black
had been his home for nearly three years. Then he started
the truck and backed down the sloping driveway. Ten minutes
later, he left the key with his friend's sister and was soon on
his way out of the city.
One thing about Baltimore that he had come to realize in
three years: a person had to have a healthy amount of
insanity to drive in the city. And that was just Baltimore. To
drive on the Beltway, you needed experience driving the
Autobahn in Germany. Traffic was hell, especially in the
middle of rush hour. When it slowed to a standstill, Robbie did
what many others had done: he turned off the truck.
After an hour and a half, things started moving again. He
put up his sketchbook and started the truck. By the time he
finally made it out of the DC area, it was almost nine o'clock.
He took the first exit with a McDonald's, grabbed some
dinner, and was on his way towards Manassas, Virginia.
When he hit 81 South, heading for Roanoke, an odd peace
settled over him. It was dark outside, but he knew this drive
like the back of his hand. He knew that if the sun was up he
would be able to see the mountains and trees surrounding
him, seeming to go on forever. Summer was just around the
corner and he rolled down his window and took a deep breath
as he set the cruise control to sixty.
The air outside was crisp and full of pine and earth. The
mist hung low and Robbie could smell it—clean and cool, like
the fresh air of the mountains. God, how he missed that. He
missed seeing nothing but trees and mountains, instead of
cars and skyscrapers. He missed the sound of the wind
through pine trees in the middle of winter, when he was
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