Dear Belle

Obambulate

Noah

Obambulate (v.);

To wander about

It's been a year since I was home last.

So much can change in such a short amount of time. I'm reminded daily.

Memories haunt my mind, day and night, awake, asleep. They speak of moments, of looks, of words subtly leaving a trail of meaning behind, to be uncovered later. Sometimes it's a daydream, usually though, it's a nightmare.

The bus slowly pulled to a stop, air hissing as the suction on the doors released, tension from holding their glass frame in place for too long; parting, letting the cold air run across my face and the familiar smell of fresh air, grass and a million other things wind their way into my senses. I stepped off and walked the metre or so to the white fence I could see in my mind, the one I remembered so well. My frozen fingers numbly fondled the air until they felt the softened point of the wooden post edges, the ones that stood guard at the edge of the yard. I tossed my stuff over and jumped, landing in a crumpled heap, sprawled ridiculously amongst the dewy grass and the unmoving clumps of my stuff. I laughed. I still couldn't get over that damn fence properly.

Picking up my things, I made my way quietly into the house. Dumping my stuff at the door, I ventured through the hallway into the kitchen.

There she stood. At the old steel sink supported by its wooden bench that spread around the U shaped walls like a smile. The cupboards hung above, eye brows on the walls, separated by the big window with red and white checked table cloth curtains, the ones I made her when I was ten, stopping them from connecting together like a mono-brow. The back door on the left was slightly ajar and the breeze crawled through making the bottom of her worn apron dance.

She looked just as I remembered her. Like the hands of time hadn't even so much as dared to caress the edges of her face. She was humming to herself as she dried the dishes and it made me smile. I knocked on the door frame gently, pretending it was someone at the front door. She turned around, looked up and almost jumped in fright.

"Noah! You gave me a bleeding heart attack" she gasped; hand over heart, the air still scared out of her lungs.

I walked up to her and swamped her in a hug.

"Always did give you a 'bleeding heart didn't I?" I said laughing.

"Always one to uphold tradition aren't you?" she teased.

I could sense her rolling her eyes and smiling as she hugged me back. A face she often used when I was teasing or being stupid. I knew she loved it though, it made her smile. I let her go and smiled creepily at her.

That earnt me another eye roll and smile.

I yawned suddenly and stretched my hands short of high-fiving the roof. Mum looked me over, inspecting me for any damage I might have gotten since being away, re-acquainting herself with me. Her gaze flickered to meet my eyes.

"It's been a while since you were here" she said slowly.

"I know. I'm sorry I haven't visited sooner, I-"

My vision left her face and came eye to eye with the floor. Mum moved over to me, and laced her fingers around my wrists, making me to look up into the familiarity of her face. I concentrated hard on it.

"It's alright, I know" she murmured, a small, sad smile spreading across her face.

I breathed.

The walls closed in, the ceiling became a blur, and I broke into a million pieces. I hadn't been back since. So much had changed but it was the familiarity that hurt the most, the suspension of reality that was so life-like you could have sworn it was real. That everything was still the same.

That night I fell asleep in my childhood bed, dreaming. The still lurking smell of teenage boy wafting off the sheets like I'd been here all along. The pictures still blu tacked on the walls and cupboards; the walks, the adventures, and the beach that was more a home than any house could ever be.

"B-" I murmured, as the emotional current pulled me in, the ocean back arched gallantly above me before crashing down and enveloping me in its turbulent beauty. I tumbled all night long, lost in the memories.