Nanowrimo Day 10
I don't even remember what day of nanowrimo it is. I'm gonna say 10th because it is the 10th. I haven't been able to do much because of a family development that is going to cause a pretty big upheaval. So I'm trying to deal with that and get 2K words in and I have not been able to the last few days. So grahhh!
Just as he expected, Vince did have to do the whole farewelling thing with the tribal elders. Auntie insisted and he figured it was a small price to pay. He told them about the goose feeling and let them talk about it. He didn’t need to mention the animal but he knew it would give them some symbolism to hash out. The elders argued about it, about all the different things it could mean to be called away like the geese were.
It could mean that a lack of focus had brought Vince here and like the geese he needed to be sure of his path. It could mean that a season of his life was over and it was time to move on to the next. He needed to look into his heart, they agreed and be sure of the way. He admitted to them that he wasn’t sure of the way, only that he should go.
They decided it was a sign and that they would give him their blessing. It was always better to leave with a blessing than a curse, so he agreed to endure the smoke and song meant to prepare him for the journey. He allowed himself to be touched that they were really pulling out all the stops for his sake. There was a little bit of guilt too, but he wasn’t lying to anybody. He really did feel the pull to go.
Once they were satisfied with the state of his spirit, he told them his plans. They gave their approval and advice. It occurred to him that they might be too approving. They might be glad to be rid of him, though he couldn’t think of a reason why. There was nothing remarkable about him except for that resemblance to his infamous grandfather. Maybe that was why.
With him gone, there might not be any reminder of the old man. There could be no reason for the old man to ever come back. Maybe him leaving would take the specter of the murderous old warrior with him.
He cleaned out his little house and started moving his auntie in. Her house sold quickly. Her neighbor had a grown son ready to move out but not too far. He was packing up the last load when the son, the new owner strolled over. Vince knew him, but not well. They called him J.D. but Vince didn’t remember what the initials stood for. There was about eight years in between them.
“You’re getting out of here,” J.D. said.
“Yeah,” Vince said. He was too old to make a big deal out of it.
“I’m jealous,” J.D. said. It was almost resentful, the way he said it. Vince did he best to not react to it. Maybe moving next door to his parent’s roof wasn’t enough for J.D.
“Your turn will come,” he said. That sounded like an old man’s advice even as he said. Might as well go all in with it. “Just have to wait for the right sign.”
“Not everybody gets a sign,” J.D. said, still sullen.
“That’s why you have to wait for it,” Vince fastened the last bungee cord on the back of his truck and started to step towards the door. He was ready to be done with this.
“You think you’ll find your mom?” J.D. asked and this time he was wary when Vince turned around. Vince was a lot bigger than him.
“No,” he said, but this was something new. He had never had anyone discuss the possibility that she might be alive somewhere. They never discussed her at all. But his auntie, the only member of his family left, must’ve said something to her neighbor at some point for the boy to overhear and understand. “Auntie’s my mom,” he added and it occurred to him that he had never told her that. He would have to before he left.
He went home and unpacked the truck. He let auntie direct him as he unpacked all her things as well. He put the few things he was taking in the truck before it got dark. She made him bowtie pasta and meatballs for dinner. They ate like it was just another day, and he slept on his couch for the last night in his house. Auntie tried to talk him out of it, but his bed was her room now.
In the morning, they ate cereal and washed the dishes and then there really wasn’t anything left for Vince to do before he left. His auntie was a little teary-eyed, but they didn’t start falling until he turned to her and paid his respect with the old words. She hadn’t expected that.
“You’re more than my aunt,” he said. “You’ve been a mother to me for as long as I can remember. It isn’t you I want to leave.”
“But you have to go,” she said through her tears. “There’s something out there for you.” She hugged him tight. She didn’t inherit the size of her father, but she did get his strength. As old as she was, her hug made his ribs creak. “I only stayed because of you. You’re already better than he ever was.”
“I don’t know what that means,” Vince said, even though he was sure he knew who.
“Good,” his auntie said, letting go of him to wipe her eyes. “Good.”
Vince accepted that. He was surprised to see a small gathering out by his truck when he walked outside. Some of the elders had come to see him off, and they had brought gifts, which surprised him even more. He got a fleece blanket, the kind with the knotted edges that someone had made for him. There was deer jerky in a zip-loc bag, another with some biscuits, still warm by the steam on the inside of the bag. There was a big orange hoodie from the Calico Kitchen, a cheap aluminum baking pan of brownies, and a talisman medicine bag presented to him by one of the elders.
Vince ducked his head so the old woman could hang it around his neck. Everyone had become very solemn, and again, he was both puzzled and touched by it. He thanked them all and gave a last hug to auntie. Her eyes were dry and her smile was back. With that, he was on his way.
It was early on a Sunday, so the roads were clear. He and auntie had never been church people, and he honestly felt like he had been prayed over enough for the rest of his life. He drove in silence without even turning on the radio until he passed the turn off for his job. His old job, he reminded himself. It wasn’t his job anymore. He had worked there since he got out of high school, nearly fourteen years ago. His old boss had still muttered something him lasting longer than expected.
The couple from Florida had given him their address there and told him to let them know if he was ever in that area. He didn’t expect to be, but he took it anyway, to be polite.
He left that exit sign behind and kept on going. It took a few hours for him to get hungry again and he pulled over at a service station. He topped off the truck’s gas tank and went in to see if there was anything better than jerky, biscuits, and brownies. There wasn’t, but he got a cold drink to wash it down with. He also checked the map pinned to the wall to see how far he might be by nightfall.
If he drove straight on, the way he had been, it would put him in the next state. There were little logos on the map to mark hotels and tourist attractions. He could always sleep in the truck if he couldn’t find a place to stay.
Another hour or so put him in the middle of nowhere and he was rethinking the whole sleeping ever again thing. Twice he had seen the dark silhouette of a man off to the side of the car, just far enough away that it was only recognizable as a human form. It had been exactly the same both times, and both time it had been gone as soon as he turned to look at it directly.
His cousins had told him enough stories of tall, skinny shapes that could outrun a car to immediately put him on edge. The stories had been shushed by the adults so quickly that none of the kids had any doubt that they were real. It gave him the creeps and he was more determined than ever to get as far away from this part of the world as he could.
His old truck knocked and buzzed but it ran on without any problems. If there were any more figures slowly appearing closer and closer, he wasn’t looking. He didn’t turn on the radio. He didn’t need anything but his own thoughts and the road. Hours passed this way. His mind didn’t so much wander as it settled into the same rhythm as the truck engine. All else faded into the background, like auto-pilot. All he had to was hold the steering wheel and keep some pressure on the gas pedal. The rest of the world rushed to meet him.
That was why the soft, dry whisper made all the hair on his arms and the back of his neck stand up. It came from nowhere but his own ears.
“There you are,” it said. Vince’s eyes widened, but he didn’t stop or slow down. “That’s good. Don’t flinch. Don’t look back or left or right. The warrior’s way is always straight ahead.”
Vince wanted to say that he wasn’t a warrior. He was a box hauler for a distribution center. At least he had been. If he wasn’t supposed to look though, it might not be safe to speak either. He kept his eyes on the road and his mouth shut.
“Good,” the voice said again. That was what his auntie had done too. Said it twice.
“She raised you right,” the voice said. “But you’re out of the nest now. Out from under her wing. Following the call on wings of your own. There’s plenty to be afraid of, but you have never been alone a day in your life.”
“Who are you?” Vince decided to ask. The answer sounded like a snake in a pile of dead leaves, smooth and dry and brittle and somehow hidden and dangerous. It was just a noise. Was it even an answer? He had no way of knowing. He was glad he still had the medicine bag around his neck, but he had no idea if if would do him any good.
“Don’t worry about that yet,” the voice said. Yet, thought Vince. “Just keep going. If you can’t tell when to turn, I’ll give you a hint. “
Just as he expected, Vince did have to do the whole farewelling thing with the tribal elders. Auntie insisted and he figured it was a small price to pay. He told them about the goose feeling and let them talk about it. He didn’t need to mention the animal but he knew it would give them some symbolism to hash out. The elders argued about it, about all the different things it could mean to be called away like the geese were.
It could mean that a lack of focus had brought Vince here and like the geese he needed to be sure of his path. It could mean that a season of his life was over and it was time to move on to the next. He needed to look into his heart, they agreed and be sure of the way. He admitted to them that he wasn’t sure of the way, only that he should go.
They decided it was a sign and that they would give him their blessing. It was always better to leave with a blessing than a curse, so he agreed to endure the smoke and song meant to prepare him for the journey. He allowed himself to be touched that they were really pulling out all the stops for his sake. There was a little bit of guilt too, but he wasn’t lying to anybody. He really did feel the pull to go.
Once they were satisfied with the state of his spirit, he told them his plans. They gave their approval and advice. It occurred to him that they might be too approving. They might be glad to be rid of him, though he couldn’t think of a reason why. There was nothing remarkable about him except for that resemblance to his infamous grandfather. Maybe that was why.
With him gone, there might not be any reminder of the old man. There could be no reason for the old man to ever come back. Maybe him leaving would take the specter of the murderous old warrior with him.
He cleaned out his little house and started moving his auntie in. Her house sold quickly. Her neighbor had a grown son ready to move out but not too far. He was packing up the last load when the son, the new owner strolled over. Vince knew him, but not well. They called him J.D. but Vince didn’t remember what the initials stood for. There was about eight years in between them.
“You’re getting out of here,” J.D. said.
“Yeah,” Vince said. He was too old to make a big deal out of it.
“I’m jealous,” J.D. said. It was almost resentful, the way he said it. Vince did he best to not react to it. Maybe moving next door to his parent’s roof wasn’t enough for J.D.
“Your turn will come,” he said. That sounded like an old man’s advice even as he said. Might as well go all in with it. “Just have to wait for the right sign.”
“Not everybody gets a sign,” J.D. said, still sullen.
“That’s why you have to wait for it,” Vince fastened the last bungee cord on the back of his truck and started to step towards the door. He was ready to be done with this.
“You think you’ll find your mom?” J.D. asked and this time he was wary when Vince turned around. Vince was a lot bigger than him.
“No,” he said, but this was something new. He had never had anyone discuss the possibility that she might be alive somewhere. They never discussed her at all. But his auntie, the only member of his family left, must’ve said something to her neighbor at some point for the boy to overhear and understand. “Auntie’s my mom,” he added and it occurred to him that he had never told her that. He would have to before he left.
He went home and unpacked the truck. He let auntie direct him as he unpacked all her things as well. He put the few things he was taking in the truck before it got dark. She made him bowtie pasta and meatballs for dinner. They ate like it was just another day, and he slept on his couch for the last night in his house. Auntie tried to talk him out of it, but his bed was her room now.
In the morning, they ate cereal and washed the dishes and then there really wasn’t anything left for Vince to do before he left. His auntie was a little teary-eyed, but they didn’t start falling until he turned to her and paid his respect with the old words. She hadn’t expected that.
“You’re more than my aunt,” he said. “You’ve been a mother to me for as long as I can remember. It isn’t you I want to leave.”
“But you have to go,” she said through her tears. “There’s something out there for you.” She hugged him tight. She didn’t inherit the size of her father, but she did get his strength. As old as she was, her hug made his ribs creak. “I only stayed because of you. You’re already better than he ever was.”
“I don’t know what that means,” Vince said, even though he was sure he knew who.
“Good,” his auntie said, letting go of him to wipe her eyes. “Good.”
Vince accepted that. He was surprised to see a small gathering out by his truck when he walked outside. Some of the elders had come to see him off, and they had brought gifts, which surprised him even more. He got a fleece blanket, the kind with the knotted edges that someone had made for him. There was deer jerky in a zip-loc bag, another with some biscuits, still warm by the steam on the inside of the bag. There was a big orange hoodie from the Calico Kitchen, a cheap aluminum baking pan of brownies, and a talisman medicine bag presented to him by one of the elders.
Vince ducked his head so the old woman could hang it around his neck. Everyone had become very solemn, and again, he was both puzzled and touched by it. He thanked them all and gave a last hug to auntie. Her eyes were dry and her smile was back. With that, he was on his way.
It was early on a Sunday, so the roads were clear. He and auntie had never been church people, and he honestly felt like he had been prayed over enough for the rest of his life. He drove in silence without even turning on the radio until he passed the turn off for his job. His old job, he reminded himself. It wasn’t his job anymore. He had worked there since he got out of high school, nearly fourteen years ago. His old boss had still muttered something him lasting longer than expected.
The couple from Florida had given him their address there and told him to let them know if he was ever in that area. He didn’t expect to be, but he took it anyway, to be polite.
He left that exit sign behind and kept on going. It took a few hours for him to get hungry again and he pulled over at a service station. He topped off the truck’s gas tank and went in to see if there was anything better than jerky, biscuits, and brownies. There wasn’t, but he got a cold drink to wash it down with. He also checked the map pinned to the wall to see how far he might be by nightfall.
If he drove straight on, the way he had been, it would put him in the next state. There were little logos on the map to mark hotels and tourist attractions. He could always sleep in the truck if he couldn’t find a place to stay.
Another hour or so put him in the middle of nowhere and he was rethinking the whole sleeping ever again thing. Twice he had seen the dark silhouette of a man off to the side of the car, just far enough away that it was only recognizable as a human form. It had been exactly the same both times, and both time it had been gone as soon as he turned to look at it directly.
His cousins had told him enough stories of tall, skinny shapes that could outrun a car to immediately put him on edge. The stories had been shushed by the adults so quickly that none of the kids had any doubt that they were real. It gave him the creeps and he was more determined than ever to get as far away from this part of the world as he could.
His old truck knocked and buzzed but it ran on without any problems. If there were any more figures slowly appearing closer and closer, he wasn’t looking. He didn’t turn on the radio. He didn’t need anything but his own thoughts and the road. Hours passed this way. His mind didn’t so much wander as it settled into the same rhythm as the truck engine. All else faded into the background, like auto-pilot. All he had to was hold the steering wheel and keep some pressure on the gas pedal. The rest of the world rushed to meet him.
That was why the soft, dry whisper made all the hair on his arms and the back of his neck stand up. It came from nowhere but his own ears.
“There you are,” it said. Vince’s eyes widened, but he didn’t stop or slow down. “That’s good. Don’t flinch. Don’t look back or left or right. The warrior’s way is always straight ahead.”
Vince wanted to say that he wasn’t a warrior. He was a box hauler for a distribution center. At least he had been. If he wasn’t supposed to look though, it might not be safe to speak either. He kept his eyes on the road and his mouth shut.
“Good,” the voice said again. That was what his auntie had done too. Said it twice.
“She raised you right,” the voice said. “But you’re out of the nest now. Out from under her wing. Following the call on wings of your own. There’s plenty to be afraid of, but you have never been alone a day in your life.”
“Who are you?” Vince decided to ask. The answer sounded like a snake in a pile of dead leaves, smooth and dry and brittle and somehow hidden and dangerous. It was just a noise. Was it even an answer? He had no way of knowing. He was glad he still had the medicine bag around his neck, but he had no idea if if would do him any good.
“Don’t worry about that yet,” the voice said. Yet, thought Vince. “Just keep going. If you can’t tell when to turn, I’ll give you a hint. “