The Smell of Lilies

Chapter 20 part 1

Brandon drove north. If he sped a little bit he could make it to his family's home by evening. At first he didn't know where he was going. The moment he stepped out her door frame his mind went black and continued to move mechanically. One foot in front of the other. 

So he drove, onto the 210 freeway and straight on. Kel's shattered eyes haunted the darkness his mind had taken on. If he turned the radio on loud enough, he wasn't able to hear himself think. It helped for about ten minutes until his bastard of a brain started thinking about how Craig would be with her right at this moment. He jammed the power button on the radio, cramming it into the dashboard.

"Fuck." Now he had to fix that. 

A couple hours later he was cruising down Pacific Coast Highway. This was the part of California that he didn't mind being in, with the ocean on one side, crystal clear, and rolling green hills on the other, dotted with cattle. It was a straight strip of eye-opening land that lasted for about an hour. He cleared his head, telling himself over and over again that leaving was the best thing to do. 

The route came naturally to him. He didn't need directions. Twelve years had nothing on him; he knew the way home.

By evening he had reached the outskirts of Salinas, California. A small town with a lot of trees. The beautiful blue skies that covered him on Highway 101 had since disappeared and he was left with gray clouds. Salinas was a commonly chilly and rainy city, right next to Monterrey. He recognized the park he had played in with his brothers as a kid, right next to the plaza. Nostalgia washed over him when he drove by where the damp sandlot used to be that he, his brothers, and school friends would play ball in if it wasn't raining. It was Brandon's only happy place as a kid, and he thought about it often. They had turned it into a parking lot. 

He passed Salinas High School. His imagination pictured the younger, skinnier Brandon walking out of the front doors like how he always did. He saw himself sitting at the lunch tables, taking chances at staring at the girl he had a crush on. 

He pressed the gas harder.

A few more blocks and windy roads later, Brandon found himself parked in front of the house he had spent the majority of his life living in. The black roof was still the same.. He could see his mother's flower beds in the front yard, his father's older truck parked in the driveway. 

For eight minutes, he sat in his truck like a coward, afraid to knock on his parent's front door. Since when did he let such a little thing get the best of him? 

His mind must have gone blank again because suddenly he was standing in front of the door, his hand hovering above the doorbell. He pressed it.

Did he look okay? Was it okay that he was wearing the jeans he wore yesterday? Too late to turn back around. The door cracked open.

"Hey, Dad," Brandon said, trying not to seem anxious. Brandon looked just like his father. Dark hair, dark eyes and dark skin. He was bigger than his father now, but at one point Mr. Hirsch stood a stellar six foot four. 

"Brandon," his father said, surprise clear on his face. But surprise turned into gladness when he started smiling. "My boy! Come in, come in."

"Thanks," he replied.

"Man, you've gotten big," his father said approvingly, taking Brandon in for a bear hug. "How are you? What's going on? Are you okay?"

"Everything's fine," he lied. "I just...came to see how you all were doing."

"Brandon, who is at the door?" He heard his mother's sweet, Italian accented voice was referring to his father. She walked through the hallway into the entry way, wiping her hands on an apron, and stopped short when she took sight of her son.