Moving Mountains (Patrick Kane)

Not Your Fault .27

Valerie

I had been working pretty hard, staffing is difficult right now so I had been working extra shifts, staying late, coming in early. All that good stuff. It's like ever since I got back from vacation all I have done is work.

So they give me two whole days off and tell me not to come within 500 feet of the premises. The first day I stayed home, sat in the dark with a few candles flickering just enjoying the peace. But all it took was 24 for me to get bored.

Today I went for a little drive. It was a hour and a half back to Indiana where I was from. I didn't have many attachments to the city in which I called home, but something was calling me back.

I get to the street I grew up on and park outside of the house. I wasn't going back in there, there's nothing left here for me here. Just memories, broken dreams, all those thoughts about what could have been. Maybe what should have been.

Suddenly there's a knock on my car window and I see a teenager standing outside of my car. He had eyes like mine and blonde hair, pretty tall too. But he didn't look like he was going to rob me or take my car. So I roll my window down to see what was up.

"Hello" I start.

"I haven't seen you around" the kid says.

"I grew up around here. Haven't been back in a really really long time" I admit.

"What brings you back" he wonders.

"That's a great question. Something just told me to come here today" I nod.

He just smiles as he leans over to look through my window. Something about this kid was familiar, it was like I've seen him before.

"What's your name, if you don't mind me asking" I wonder.

"Keith" he says and I smile. The same as my dad.

"So Keith why are you out here instead of in school" I ask.

"My dad doesn't really care much what I do and my mom is out of town on business. She's working a lot and dad just doesn't give me the time of day. So I come out here and play street hockey to pass the time. But you kinda parked in front of my goal" he says pointing. Low and behold I was right in front of the goal.

"I'm sorry, I can move" I insist.

"That's okay. Its pretty easy to move the goal and I can bring it back to my place, it's just a few streets away. But my dad actually used to live at this house so I like to play down here. It's almost like he's playing with me" he shrugs.

I feel my heart drop with more power and force than dropping a boulder off Mount Everest. My hands grip the steering wheel tight afraid that if I let go everything will fall apart.

"How long ago did he live here" I whisper.

"Before I was born. He doesn't talk about it much. I know he had a family and a wife before mom and I, that's about it though. But something pulls me to this place too. That's why what you said seemed peculiar" he admits.

I choke back the tears as things start to connect. That familiarity was the eyes that used to look at me like I was the greatest thing in the world. And the small ears that seem to catch everything. He was my half brother, and I didn't even realize it.

"Your dad... is he a good one" I ask.

"Kind of. I mean he's trying. I can tell that he was different back when he was here. Would tell me stories of playing in the driveway and losing footballs and baseballs in the neighbors yard. He never really played with me growing up so this... this is the closest to playing with him I've ever been" he says.