He nodded briefly.“It’s like… everyone feels part of something,” he concluded, with a slight questioning tone, turning to me.
That was precisely it.
I grinned at him in confirmation.Suddenly, I realized I hadn’t even asked him what he was doing here.I hadn’t asked him anything except his name.And my brain had been distracted, but I was almost sure it hadn’t even been me who asked for his name.
“And you,” I started, “where are you from?”
He hesitated for a moment.“From Wayneth, practically my whole life.But moving here right now.”
“Oh, really?From Wayneth to live here?Evermere?Now?Why?”My curiosity surfaced.
His lips lifted in a very soft smile.Maybe five questions in a row was not what normal people did.“Yeah, I lived with my mom and her boyfriend in the city.But they broke up.”
After a few long seconds of silence, I realized he wasn’t going to give me much more information than that.
So, I respected it.
And we kept walking.We talked about who was at the CIC doing what.As we moved along the garden, discreetly pointing at people, he would make assumptions, and I would tell him their truths.I guess I wanted him to get to know some life stories before sharing his own.
To feel partly part of something too.
Chapter 6
Miles
September 7th, 1998
Monday
I stepped outside of the car, closed the door, locked it, and faced the house.My mom was there, in the garden, quietly staring at nothing, her back to the entrance where I stood.She turned around and looked at me, and I gave her a soft smile.
What was going through her mind, I did not know.But I knew I wanted to be there for her.
We spent the rest of the night unpacking things from the boxes left in the living room — a little too much unnecessary stuff, in my opinion.We probably didn’t need so many photos of the two of us, so many candles, or so many old ceramic souvenirs over a fireplace.The fireplace.That was one of the things that had made me imagine possibly enjoying being here, at least until winter.We’d never had a fireplace in the many homes we’d lived in across the city.
I got up to grab the plastic bubble wrap that held the last ceramic pieces and noticed a small, antique, almost archaic, ceramic horse wrapped in it.I bet it was a gift from one of the past boyfriends I no longer remembered.And then another thought crossed my mind: a thought ofsomeonewho made me ask myself if I could imagine being around for a little while longer.
Our conversation had lasted for a few minutes before I realized I had promised to come home on a schedule that I found important to keep.But even for such a limited period of time, it felt calming to be there with her — listening to her soothing voice and infectious laughter.
We parted with an “I’ll see you”, and something in me left the moment hoping I would really see her again.Soon.
Chapter7
Miles
September 8th, 1998
Tuesday
The sun shone brightly through my unshattered window.And I got the disconcerting feeling I didn’t know where I was when I first opened my eyes.
Reality hit me in two seconds.
Good morning, Evermere.
I walked downstairs and didn’t find my mother.It felt strange to walk around the house.It was decorated and full of old furniture, the kind that had been sitting untouched for decades.The pieces belonged to my grandparents, and they were visibly so worn out they had to be cleaned, fixed, or thrown away.It felt like the place had been kept as a closed museum ever since they were gone.
I didn’t understand why my mother had never come here.She could have cleaned the house, made use of the furniture at the time, or even sold it.
