Where The Wild Things Are [Continuation]

3| THE RETURN

3| THE RETURN

 HOW was it?”

            “Fine,” he said as he clicked on his seatbelt. His mother, Connie, turned the key and put the car in drive. As the vehicle rode on the gravel the car began to rattle; that was the only noise for a long time.

            “Did it help?” Connie asked, breaking the tension.

            Max shrugged. 

            She pursed her lips. “Do you want to talk about it?”

            He sucked in a deep breath. He did not want to talk about it at all. That’s why I have a shrink! he thought. But all he said was no in a very stiff manner. That was all that was said on the highway back home. The rattling became worse.

            His mother tried again, “Do you really think you need to go back there?”

            Max looked at her if she just gone mad. “Yes. It was only one session, I’m not that easy to fix,” he said stiffly. Connie clenched her teeth, “We are on a very tight budget, Max.” Max began to get frustrated. “And how does that explain anything?! I’m going out of my freaking mind, Mom! I think I need the help!”

            Connie glared at her son. “I don’t get it Max. You hadn’t had nightmares in years. And now all of sudden, out of the blue, you just think: Hey! I should cause issues for my family. Is that because you’re not getting enough attention at home? Is it because you’re jealous of Claire having honor roll? Is it because—”

            “I DIDN’T BRING THIS ON MYSELF!” Max shouted,  “You think I wanted this?! Don’t you understand?" Max shook his head, "But of course you don’t," he said, "if you hadn’t been so dedicated to finding Adrian for the past four years then we wouldn’t be in this rut.”       

            Connie’s hands began to shake in fury, “You just crossed a line,” she said quietly, “and you will regret it.”

            This caused a pang of fear to form in Max’s body. No more words were spoken. The air was so tense a knife couldn’t cut it. The rattling got worse.

            Just when they were about two miles away from home the car broke down. That was Connie’s last straw. “GOD DAMMIT!” she screamed, her hands clenched into fists and banged on the steering wheel.

            Max had no idea what to do, so he just sat there and stared at the madwoman that was his mother. Tears streaked down her cheeks, and her hair began to stick to her face. Connie looked at her son with crazy eyes. “I can’t do this Max,” she blubbered, “we are in so much debt already, and with Adrian gone I have no idea what to do!”

            His mother wailed in despair, and she began to mumble incoherent words. He tried to make sense of it. “Mom?”

            “You caused it,” she said louder. Max was confused, “What?” Connie lifted her head from the steering wheel. “You caused it! You caused Adrian to leave! You scared him away! YOU DID THIS TO ME!”

              Max then cautiously took off his seatbelt and tentatively put a hand on her shoulder to try and calm her down, he felt bad. But once his hand grazed Connie’s skin she slapped it away. “DON’T TOUCH ME!” she screeched. Her crazy eyes seemed to get crazier by the second. “Mom, I—”

            “NO!” his mother cut him off, “Just go!”

            But Max just sat there dumbfounded. “Mom, I—” though she cut him off again. “Didn’t you hear me? Get the fuck out of here!” Max eyes widened, his mother never cursed at him. Still staring at her he opened the door slowly. “GO!”

            Max winced at her loud voice. It caused his ears to ring, but he clumsily managed to climb out of the car and run toward the direction of his house.

            Tears welled up in his eyes as he continued to sprint toward his house. Leaving his unhinged mother behind. His coat flapped against the cold autumn wind and his eyes stung, but he continued running.

            In no time he was back home pounding on his door since his mother had the keys. His sister opened it to find a distressed Max. He pushed past her, but she grabbed his arm. “Max,” she said sternly, “what happened?” He just shook his head, shrugged her off and ran to his room.

            He slammed his door and took refuge under his comforter. Pillows were stacked as his walls for his protection from reality.

*

His mom came home late that night, extremely intoxicated. She had never came home drunk before and it scared him. He could hear the pounding of her footsteps down the hallway. She was making her way to his room. His heart lurched.

            His door flung open with a bang! Max cowered into his blankets. He could just barely make an exhausted Claire tiredly making her way toward their mother. “It’s your fault!” his mother screamed, staggering toward him. He sat up, startled. “All your fault!” She was about a foot away from his bed. The stench of her was horrid and her breath was sour.

             Claire then suddenly wrapped her arms around their mother, pulling her away from her younger brother. “Mom, stop!” Claire screamed. Connie’s lip quivered as she continued to sluggishly try get out of her grip. Thank God she didn’t quit gymnastics. Connie pointed to her son, hatred evident in her eyes, “You wild thing!” she screeched. Then her eyes widened and she squirmed out of Claire’s grip and ran down the hall and to the bathroom. A retching sound echoed the house.

            Claire gave him a look of pity. He wanted her to reassure him, to say ‘It’s not your fault, Max.’ But she just ran to the bathroom to help their drunken mother, shutting his door behind her.

            Max took a shuddering breath and clutched his pillow. I hate this place! he screamed in his head. Tears leaked down his face as he sobbed into his pillow. His mother wasn’t there to comfort him this time.

            I would rather be anywhere else! was his final thought before he fell asleep.

Birds were chirping when he came to, and for a split moment, between sleep and awake, he was okay, but then reality crushed him.  His nightmares. Dr. Barbok. His mother yelling. His mother coming home late in the night, drunk. His mother telling him over and over again that it was his fault.

            Guilt wrenched his gut. Even after all that he still felt bad for his mother. I should check if she’s alright, he thought. But when he opened his eyes, he wasn’t in his room.

            His heart began to pound as his eyes began to adjust to the dark. He looked down at what he thought was his bed was cold hard dirt. He looked around to see the trees that climbed up to about fifty feet. Moonlight still managed to peak through.

            He swallowed thickly when he heard the distant sound of waves crashing against the shore.

            He was back.