Lies on the Border Line

The Long Walk 'Home'

Most kids looked forward to the weekend. Not Aaron. On the weekend his mother always went out partying. So that either meant that he'd spend the weekend alone, unable to leave the small zero-bedroom apartment he lived in with his mother, or he'd be dragged alone with her to one of her druggie friend's houses where she would proceed to get drunk and/or high. This weekend was no different.

It was already late and the party was winding down. Aaron hated the noise, and all of the rude, loud, dirty, and obnoxious people that came to the parties his mother attended. It wasn't always bad - like when he got to play with their video games. Of course, he hated the nights where his mother was too wasted to take him home. He thought that this weekend was going to be one of those weekends and was dreading having to half-sleep on the dirty floor or beer-soaked couch and was debating locking himself in the bathroom and sleeping in the tub.

His mother was trying, unsuccessfully, to procure a ride from a friend so that they wouldn't have to walk. It was only a couple miles down twisting backstreets at 2 am, but with the ice and snow that constantly plagued the ground it would've been better to not have to walk. Apparently this party had gotten a little out of hand, and heated words may have been exchanged between Aaron's mother and the host of the party and feelings may have been such that they would not be permitted to stay until the morning.

They headed out. The air was bitter cold and motionless. Like one of those nights where you're not sure whether to cry from the extreme hopelessness that seeps out of every orifice of the darkness or listen deeply to the secrets they might utter as to the core existence of man and the secrets of life. Wary they began to walk; unsure as to what dangers might creep down lonely streets. Aaron was unsure of the way and was hoping that his mother would be sobered enough by the cold to direct him. She was, at this moment, so intoxicated that she couldn't stand up straight because of the slick pavement. She slipped and fell once, momentarily contemplating simply lying down in the snow. Aaron contemplated leaving her but knew he wouldn't make it home on his own. And even if he did, he didn't have a key. He was stuck with her.

Feeling resentful and a little bit guilty, he did his best to help her up. She struggled. She had broken her arm years ago in a fight with an ex-lover which never quite healed properly. Aaron was reminded of that night and how he had to walk with her, broken arm and all, crying the entire way to the hospital miles away. "A story for another time", Aaron thought, feeling an eerie similarity in the precariousness of the situation. She put more weight on him than he could handle and they almost fell together. Aaron was always considered 'small' for his age. Perhaps it was genetics. Perhaps he just didn't get enough to eat. In any case, he was a rather petite, weak boy, and lifting his mother off the ground was far more work than it should've been. Eventually the two got to their feet and resumed walking.

She had to lean with most of her weight on him. She was far too intoxicated to walk on her own and would've fallen over quite easily without him. She was hobbling, using him as a sort of crutch. He would move a little forward, then she would lean on him as he braced himself and step. It was a grueling process that made a couple miles seem like the span of the world. A walk that would've normally taken an hour ended up taking several.

On the way, she began to sob to herself. Aaron stopped when he noticed and wondered for a moment if he should say something. His mother wasn't exactly the most stable woman in the world; she often suffered from bouts of intense emotions such as depression.

He paused and asked, "What's wrong, mom?"

Still crying she replied, "I'm a horrible mother."

"No you're not." He said, cringing. He was disappointed in the situation. He knew she was but didn't have the heart, or lack thereof, to agree with her.

"I know you're just lying to make me feel better. You're the best son a mother could ask for." She said.

 After a few minutes waiting in awkward silence, the two merely continued walking. They reached "home", or what passed for it these days. She fumbled with her keys and after several failed attempts opened the door. It was as cold inside as it was out. She fumbled along the walls, and eventually made it to bed. He piled all the blankets as they had on top of her, since it was a cold night. Reluctantly he crawled in bed next to her. They shared a bed since there was only one. Most people would've thought it strange for a boy his age to share a bed with his mother, but it was the best they could do.

As he lay in bed, unable to sleep he cursed her in his mind. Why was he always stuck taking care of her? Shouldn't it be the other way around? No stranger to insomnia, he got out of bed and turned on the TV.  It'd be time to get up and go to school soon anyways, he thought. He felt a little relief thinking of the school day ahead of him. Even though he didn't have any friends and hated school, at least the weekend was over.