Groundhogs

Chapter 4: Run, Free From Home

The white of Ottalina's eyes were strained and a piercing pink. With a smile on her face, tears finding their way to evaporation on both our faces, I mustered the confidence to show my worry for her.

"Ottalina, was everything okay? Did you do what you had to do?"
"Everything's fine. We should get moving right?"
"Alright, yeah. Sure."
"Free, I think we should be somewhat discreet. With this whole trip and everything."
"Okay. I'll tell my dad I'm going out of town for a few days. It shouldn't take us long to get anywhere, you can fly us anywhere."
"We should take my car."
"Driving? When you have the ability to fly through the sky? Seems counterproductive."
"And you'll drive, alright?"
"Is everything alright, Otta?"

Ottalina walked closer to me with a stride of wrath, like she heard the words of a mortal enemy leave my mouth. Her bloodshot eyes deepened in red and her hair fell in front of her face before she threw it behind her head again.

"Otta? I thought about cool nicknames to call you while you were gone. Something shorter, I'm sorry. I didn't meant to—"
"Free? Can you just call me by my name? Please."
"Yeah. Of course. Hey, I'm sorry."
"I'm going to bring the car to the meeting spot. Meet me there after you talk to your dad."
"Alright. But I don't think it'll run, it's been outside of Damon's house for like a year now. Maybe we—"

Ottalina flew off rapidly, knocking me to foot of the bleachers. I brushed my pants off and walked back home.

"I'm home."
"I see," my dad said.
"I'm about to leave again. I'll be gone for a few days. I'm going on a trip with some friends."
"How are you going on a trip with no job? No money?"
"I have a little bit of money. And it's not an expensive trip. Just visiting some friends up at school."
"When are you going to finish school?"
"I don't know. Soon."
"Don't you feel bad? Seeing all your friends passing you by, man?"
"No."
"You don't? Don't let life pass you by, man."
"I know."
"Alright. Be safe."

While I packed a backpack, I thought about my dad. There were times when he looked at me, deeply and through me. I couldn't tell if he was seeing himself without his will he must've been born with or obtained, or if he was seeing something so far and beyond from who he believed himself to be. Either way, I knew he looked at me and saw a stranger. But then he'd tell me to be safe. He'd tell me to protect myself and to not take risks. He was the type of father who wanted his children to take the surefire routes, the dreamless. I'd often wonder if he had a dream before too, and whether he lost it somewhere along the way too. I'd wonder if he dreamed of falling in love, with someone like my mother, while he hunted squirrels in the forest with his brothers. But I was different from him. He grew up with those overflowing feelings falling back deep within him. There was no room for such feelings in survival.

I wanted to say to him, "I'm sorry I'm not who you thought I could be. I'm not who you want me to be." But I'm sure he'd say he wanted me to be whatever I desired. And he'd say he wanted be to work hard and work harder. And I'd say I'm trying. I left through the front door whispering goodbye with my back turned, and he too, whispered goodbye with his eyes on the television screen. Under the tree canopies along the path to the stump, I thought about whether our mysterious love for each other would be deciphered. And I'd say I'm trying as hard as I can. And he would say it's enough.

Ottalina was parked next to the stump at the corner of the path, sitting in the passenger seat with her feet propped on the dashboard. I threw my backpack in the backseat and got in.

"Did this thing really start?"
"No, not at first. I just had to jumpstart it."
"Who'd you get to jumpstart this thing?"
"What do you mean? I did."
"Wait, what?"
"With my hands, Free. My hands."
"Okay, I guess that's something you can do now."
"Don't get used to it. I'm not using any of the stuff you guys don't have here anymore. Incognito."
"Alright. It'd probably be easier to fall in love if the guy knew you were a superhero, but whatever you say."
"I haven't saved anyone."

Ottalina pulled her hood over her head and leaned farther back into her seat.

"How do you know how to drive anyway? You're not even from here."
"We have cars back at my home, too."
"And they operate in the same way?"
"Yeah. And they have smokes too. And that beer you like too."
"Weird."
"Okay, so where are we going Free? Where do we find love?"
"What? I thought you were going to tell me?"
"You have to be fucking kidding me."
"What!"
"This is your world, how do you not know where to find love?"
"I don't know if this is news to you, but I haven't been as skilled as other people in that shit."
"Okay, okay. Where did you meet Jenn? The first time you saw her."
"Jenn?"
"Yes, Jenn. The girl you couldn't stop talking about when I first met you."
"I met her a few towns over, at the beach town. Twent."
"Okay, to Trent we go!"
"It's Twent."

During the first hour of the drive Ottalina fell asleep. She must've been exhausted from flying back and forth, and I didn't mind the quiet. I couldn't stop wondering if I made the right decision. There was nothing left for me in the stagnancy I grew accustomed to but there was comfort. The silence of the drive became like that suburban neighborhood I had just been so intent on running from the moment I saw Ottalina again. But as the distance grew, I began to miss the canopies of my friends and the bend in the sidewalk. I missed the cold air meeting my fingers as they sat between the plastic holder of my six pack, and I missed the embrace of the bleachers. Around the third hour, I looked over to Ottalina. She rolled toward me, opened one eye and closed it again.

"Hey. Do you think we're doing the right thing?" I asked.
"What the hell are you talking about?"
"Do you think we were meant to leave like this? And go find love or whatever."
"Sure. Why not. We're just doing what we want, right?"
"I mean, do you think God planned this? For us to meet, and to go find what we've wanted. Is this like his way of answering us?"
"If there's a God, maybe. Do you believe in that sort of thing?"
"Me? No, no."
"So certain?"
"Wait, are you a god? Is that why you can fly and all that?"
"No, I'm not a god."
"Have you met a god before? You've flown all through the universe right? You must've seen something."
"I've flown around, like, what can be described as like a neighborhood before I got here. We're not that far apart."
"And you didn't see God? Or a god of like cheese or something?"
"Okay I'm going back to sleep."
"I'm kidding. Seriously though, do you think this could be some God's plan for us or something?"
"I mean. I've seen beautiful things, flying around. Stars and planets. Rocks. Lots of rocks. And color. But some omniscient being floating around dictating what happens to this single individual on this single world? No. But at the same time, would I even be able to know if what I saw was or wasn't exactly that?"
"Probably not."
"So, I don't know how to feel about it. Somewhere I haven't been there could be something or someone laying a course out for everyone. Or we're all winging it, and maybe they give us a little nudge when we're in a tight spot. Either way, I don't think it matters much. All I know is I'm here, right here. Right now. And this is what I want. So I'm doing it."
"I see."
"What about you? You're so sure you don't believe. Why is that?"
"I just don't think if there was a God, they'd be so cruel."
"Hm, interesting. I've read some religions believe that's their way of testing their followers faith."
"Sure, but isn't that sort of fucked up?"
"Of course, but wouldn't God have to be sort of fucked up? I mean, you're dealing with all of life."
"If I'm being honest, there's been times when I think it's the end. Everything becomes too much, and I just feel everything, like I'm feeling too much. And I'm on my knees, literally. And I'm begging them to ease up, or to help me. Like tears in my eyes type of thing. And it's just... silence. And then I think of everyone else feeling the same as me, and everyone who feels worse. And we're all begging for release or for anything at all. And their just... silent. It's just— It's just if I was a God, I know this sounds dumb, but if I was a God and I had immeasurable power of creation and destruction and everything in between, I'd want to help everyone and anyone. Why wouldn't I?"
"They say we're made in God's image, right?"
"That's what they said in my Baptist church. As the tithe plate is passed around."
"If that's the case, then God must be selfish and cruel like us."
"Yeah, I guess."
"What about this. If we find love, would you believe in God then?"
"I wouldn't have to search for such a thing if he existed. They say God's love overpours on his creations. I've never felt that love before."
"How could you love your creator?"
"You'd love them for creating you."
"Do you love them? Have you ever?"
"They were my first unrequited love, I guess. But I don't love them anymore."

Ottalina and I sat in silence for some time, until arriving at Twent.