ONE
He took a long drag of his cigarette before pulling it from his pouty, pink lips and flicked it lightly to rid it of its ash. He puckered his lips and blew out the grayish/ white smoke, watching it linger ahead of him before it mingled with the summer air and disappeared. He cut his eyes to the right and then glanced into the rear view mirror as he made his way down the desolate road. He hummed slightly to the country tune playing softly from the radio as the wind whipped through the open windows of his 1968 Pontiac Firebird. The air was sweet; just like he remembered.
His right foot pressed firmly on the old car’s accelerator, pushing him deeper and deeper into the Tennessee country. He glanced around as he barreled past the lush grass and full, mature trees. Memories from his childhood began to flood back to his fore brain as he could see himself running through the trees and grass, playing hide and seek with his best friend Trace. Good God, he could almost hear the laughter. It had been so long since he had been home.
And then he thought about her.
The urge to touch her smooth skin rose up in his tight, tensed body as he continued his journey home. It had been six years, two hundred and thirty three days and sixteen hours since he has last touched her smooth skin. He looked over at the wrinkled, torn and folded picture of her that he had taped to the dashboard. It danced with the wind as he smiled to himself; she was waiting for him. She had waited for him for six long years and he would end her wait that afternoon.
Their love was undeniable. She did everything and anything she could to be with him and he did the same. Even at the tender age of fourteen, she ran from her parents to be with him. They found them quickly, and vowed to keep them apart but she ran again and again and again until her mother just finally let her free. He remembered it like it was yesterday; her dirty, red sundress flailing in the wind behind her as she ran up the dirt road to his home. Tears streaming down her face as her bare feet carried her quickly towards him. He met her half way and caught her as she slammed full speed into him, wrapping her arms around his neck and grabbing fistfuls of his button down.
“I love you.” She whispered over and over again as she cried.
They would lie for hours under those mature trees, his fingers intertwined with random strands of hair as he gazed into her light blue eyes. She would stare back up at him with such adoration in her eyes, playing with the hairs on the nape of his neck and smiling lazily. He would capture her young lips, stealing sweet kisses from her as the sun set against the sky. He almost wished that everyone could have summers like that, just sweet and innocent.
He took a deep breath and then let it out slowly as the snippet from his past returned itself back to his mental rolodex. He took another drag of his cigarette as the sound of the tires gripping the pavement filled the otherwise silent environment. He blew out the smoke again, letting the feeling of ease pass over him and wash him of his anxiety.
Six years, two hundred and thirty three days and sixteen hours.
Oh, it had been a long time since he had been home. But he couldn’t blame anyone but himself, he just couldn’t help it. You see, he led a reckless life; a life of crime. His own mother could see the fire burning in his eyes when he was just a toddler, but she tried to ignore it. She didn’t want to believe it but he was just like her daddy, and his daddy before him, and his daddy before him. He had even inherited those cold as ice blue eyes, a trait amongst the men in her family. She didn’t want her little boy to be bad, but it was destined for him.
She did everything she could to keep him on a straight path but as he grew, his wild ways took a hold of him. She ran to the local priest, falling to her knees, wiping at her eyes as her mascara ran down her face, “Please father, save my son.”
But nothing could be done. Her screaming and begging and pleading and crying had no affect on him anymore and not even the love for his mother could keep him from doing wrong. His mother grew old quickly as the worry for her only son wreaked havoc on her. Thievery, robbery, lies and deceit; that’s what she lost her son too. But her love for him never wavered, not for a moment. The curse had been passed to him, and he was only doing what the countless men before him had done.
His mother’s heart finally gave out prematurely, and she died waiting for him to come home. The letter from his love was tear-stained that night when he received it. He knew it was his fault, if only he could have been a good boy. And for the first time, on the eve of his mother’s death, he cursed the blood that ran through his veins. Without the blood, he could have been a different person, a good person, but there he sat, another victim of the Rast curse.
He shook his head to stop his eyes from welling with tears as he neared his first destination. He pulled through the old rot-iron gates and rode slowly through the graveyard, glancing around for his mother’s final resting place. He pulled the beater to a stop and got out, grabbing the white roses from the seat next to him and walking slowly through the grave sites.
He knelt down at his mother’s headstone and put his head down, praying to whoever was out there. He plucked six of the twelve white roses from the bouquet and laid them gently on the grass that had grown over her place. He kissed the cold stone and ran his fingers down the embossed letters as he read over the loving words.
“I love you momma.”
The air picked up his words and whisked them away as he turned to the place to the left of his dear mother. Grandma Letty was the backbone of the family, but she too, could see the ruthlessness in him. She loved him dearly though, just like his mother and she wouldn’t have turned him away for anything. She too, died while waiting for him to come home.
He placed the remaining six roses on his Grandma’s grave and repeated his loving words to her, letting the tears swim freely down his warm face. His two favorite girls where now looking down on him from heaven. He stayed for a few minutes more, talking softly to them and picking the stray weeds away from the bases of their headstones. He kissed his fingertips and touched them once more to his mother’s and grandmother’s final resting places and then moved back to the Firebird. He brought it to life and flipped it around, the tires squealing as he pulled out harshly from the graveyard.
Just a few minutes more, and he would be home.
He flicked his cigarette out of the window and he flipped on his left blinker. He slowed slightly as the car made the transition from pavement to dirt. A cloud of dust followed him as he drove down the long road, a wide smile coming to his face as he saw his old house in the distance. His heart began to race as he drew closer and closer to the old wooden house.
And then he saw her.
She stood from the rickety, aged rocking chair that once held his grandmother. The wind threw her hair all around her face as that slow, side smile played on her face. Her arms stayed at her sides as she watched him drive up the house. She wanted to run towards him and jump into his arms but she stood still, wanting him to come to her.
He watched her carefully and he once again pulled the black Firebird to a stop. He grabbed his old beaten up bag from the passengers seat and stepped out into the afternoon sun. He stared at her as she stepped right to the edge of the porch, her short yellow sundress flailing in the wind. He walked toward her slowly, etching her into his brain so that he could remember her just like this. Her chest rose and fell faster and faster with every step that he took.
She was still waiting for him.
His boot-clad foot hit the first wooden step of the porch, and then the other followed. Within seconds, they were face to face; so close to each other that they could feel each others breath. Neither one of them moved, they just stood there, staring at each other, drinking each other in for the first time in six long years.
And then slowly, she stepped toward him and raised her hand, resting it on his shoulder. He then responded by placing his arm around her small waist, pulling her even closer to him. She ran her hand down his face as she looked him over, smiling for really no reason. Her eyes fluttered shut as her lips parted, still, she waited for him. He lowered his head and captured her lips with ease like he had so many times before.
The first kiss in six years, two hundred and thirty three days and now, seventeen hours later was a beautiful one as they massaged each other on the porch. His fingers dug into her long hair and her fingers did the same as their lips connected. They pulled apart after what seemed like a lifetime and linked their hands together as they turned and walked into the small house.
William Rast was finally home.
Author's Chapter Notes:
So, I was watching the trailers for his clothing line and this came out, lol. I don't have a title yet, so if you think of one, please comment me and let me know. I'm not sure what's gonna happen with this one, but I wanted to share it with you. I hope you enjoy and thanks for reading!
Story Tags: williamrast southernj
