High of the Lows

1

Horns blared behind me. I raised my hand in some sort of apology. I was back. Looking around the small town, I see that nothing has changed. The bum is still in front of Stanley's, all the parks are still there, and Central Falls' High still stands at the top of the hill. Why I was here was unclear. There I was sitting in my apartment in the rundown part of the Bronx, when I finally got up to check how much my bills where that month. I picked up the bills when in the middle of it all was a single envelope that stood out from the name on the top of the envelope. It had in small print, " Meredith Johnson". Mom? I ripped open the envelope to reveal a letter. I scanned the letter. Words stood out to me. Come home. Sick. Reunion. Help. Three years I have waited. For a letter, postcard, anything from her. Yes, I haven't made any attempt to contact her either, but still she's the mother not me. I looked around at the mess I called an apartment, and started to throw different clothes into a suitcase I got when I first got to New York. The case was small and the zipper got stuck easily, but it was one of the first things I paid for myself. I pack the essentials, toothbrush, toothpaste, paper bags in case I have a panic attack, the usual. I looked around to see that I had picked up most of my floor and put it in the case. Wrapping a scarf around my neck, I was on my way back to the place I wish I would never see again. That brings us back to today where I sit in front of a red door I had left in the middle of the night without a second glance. I parked my car and looked upon the door. I sat back in my seat. What am I doing? Why did I come back? A sigh passed through my lips. Here we go. I opened the door and headed to the trunk. Popping it open, I grabbed my bag and sat it down on the pavement. After hours of traffic, arguing with myself, and mental breakdowns, I am back. Central Falls, Rhode Island. The bane of my life. I left everyone and everything here never to be looked at again. Time to get this over. I carried my bag to the red door. I stood there. You could still leave. I knocked on the door. After a few tense seconds, the door creaked open to reveal my mother.

"Erin?"

I smiled.

"Hey, Mom." I raised my hand as like a half wave.

She stepped aside to let me into the house. I surveyed the house. Everything was in order. Everything had a place in this house. Dad was gone, so no pictures of him in any of the family pictures anymore. I picked up a picture that once contained our little family, but now it showed a family severed by a pair of scissors. It was just me with my toothless smile and my mother with a severed hand on her shoulder. This house was perfect, this family was perfect. Now it was broken and small. I placed my bag at the bottom of the stairs. It was all the same from when I left. I was an idiot back then. Leaving in the middle of the night like some low rated burglar. I was angry and couldn't stand to look at my mother.
"Erin, I just finished dinner if you want anything."
She stood in the kitchen with an apron hanging on her shoulder. She looked almost like a soccer mom that gave her kids snacks when they get home, but I knew the truth. I knew that she drinks her sorrows into the bottom of a darkened glass. I made my way into the kitchen, where I was greeted with a sweet aroma I had never smelled before. In front of me was a variety of food. It was the most food I had ever seen in my life.

"Did you make all of this?" My voice held awe and wonderment.

"After you left I took a few cooking classes to at least try and survive without you." I smiled.

"Always a sense of humor, mom."

I sat down at the table waiting for her to come join me. The dining room was clean and the metal sparkled under the light. The oak table was covered in food with no room left on the table except for two plates at the heads of the tables. We began the meal in silence just basking in each other's presence for as long as possible until we sat down and talked about her letter. Looking at my mother, I wouldn't recognize her. Her cheeks had hollowed out, and I could clearly see where she had lost a lot of weight. We finished and the dreaded moment came. We moved to the living room where I could see my way out of the house. I hate to say it, but I was so tempted to just run out the house and out of this town. I stared out of the window at the empty street that was lit by a blinking lamp.

"Wine?" I turned quickly to see my mom with two glasses and a deep red liquid in a bottle.

I nodded and held my hand out for the glass. She poured the wine and got comfortable on the couch.

"So, how is New York?" She let out a small smile.

"It's nice. How is your sickness and this reunion I had no idea was happening?" Her smile fell.

"Look, Erin, you can not be mad at me. I just learned about my illness and the reunion. Plus, I think Claire mailed out the invites, and my illness is nothing serious, yet. We caught it in its earlier stages, so I should make a full recovery."

"What's the disease? Can you please tell me that, so I can decide how I want to react?"

"It's Tuberculosis."