SomeWhere On... (BXB)

...Washington Street - September

I got goosebumps. Murph's driving and he hasn't said much of anything for the past couple minutes. A part of me regrets saying anything before, but now I'm not so sure.

"Almost there," he says, turning the wheel so we move onto a thin road cutting through a break in the brick fencing. Murph's voice is low and calm. Like he's reassuring a kid that the ride'll be over soon. It's not like it's been the longest ride ever, but...the situation behind it makes it feel long.

Trees hang over the road, which has turned from asphalt to dirt. It's still wet from the rain the night before. The car wobbles like me when I'm drunk.

I sigh, and look out the window. There's nothing around that tells me where I am, but then again, I've barely gone five blocks outside of Murph's town, anyways.

The car lurches and there's this, like, British church cottage right in front of me. And for a second, I'm thinking I'm in a dream. "We're still in America, right?" I ask.

Murph side-eyes me and smirks. "Yes, we're still in America." He rolls the car to a stop just off to the side of the house and gets out. "Almost there."

I groan, but at least we get a little walking in.

He just fucking walks into the cottage like he fucking owns the place. "Mrs. Rodriguez?" Murph calls.

The house's...empty. The front room has two couches, a coffee table, and two chairs. Dark red curtains hang over the windows, making the room even darker. It's the kind of room a vampire would like.

A woman appears in an archway and smiles. "Good morning, Mr. O'Donoghue," she says calmly, wiping her hands. "It's good to see you." She comes over and hugs him. "You've grown a bit, haven't you? Or have I just gotten a little shorter since last year?"

Murph sighs, and it's that kind of sigh where I know he's smiling. He pushes back and turns to me. "Tommy, this is Mrs. Rodriguez. She's the caretaker here."

"Oh! Before I forget..." Mrs. Rodriguez goes back under the archway and comes back with white flowers. "...for you."

He reaches into his back pocket and pulls out some money. "Thank you again."

I swallow. "H – how long've you been coming here?"

"It's nice to meet you, Tommy," she says, shaking my hand. Inhaling, she adds, "Murph's been coming on his own for the past...seven or eight years." Mrs. Rodriguez clasps her hands together and sighs. "All set?"

Murph nods. "Thank you again for the flowers."

She pshs him. "Don't worry. Come back for some tea when you're all done, okay? I want to catch up with you." She smiles at me, and then goes back under the archway and disappears.

He leads me back outside and looks at me. "You all right? You can go back in if you want to."

I shake my head. "No. I – I said I wanted to."

"You don't have to, Tommy."

I feel like I should, though. I don't say anything and gesture for him to keep going.

He takes my hand. "I appreciate the gesture, Tommy. I do."

I huff.

I can't bring myself to say anything else. And he doesn't say anything else, either, because he lets go of my hand and leads the way through the trees into an open field dotted with gravestones. The air smells like cut grass and it makes me sick.

Murph's fingers trace over one of the flower's petals.

We pass by rows and rows of stones – each a little different in wearing down – before he kneels in front of two.

Walter Sean O'Donoghue was born 1958 and died 1999. "BELOVED HUSBAND, FATHER, SON, & FRIEND".

Lucy Shaw O'Donoghue was born 1959 and died 2004. "LIFE IS NOT FOREVER. LOVE IS".

Murph splits the bouquet in two and places each at the bottom of the headstone. He inhales and stands, wiping the cut grass off his pants. "That's all I do here." He steps closer to me and glances back at the graves.

"...I'm sorry."

He sighs and looks across the field. "Tommy, don't apologize." And then looks at me. "That won't bring them back, as hard as I've tried."

I take his hand. "Still."

"Why did you want to come?"

I swallow. "Wanted to pay my respects."

He nods. And then looks away again.

I kneel and take in a breath. "I don't know how to do this."

"Pay your respects?" he asks.

I nod, but still say, "Just in general...be here."

Murph kneels beside me. "Y'know...sometimes, I like to talk to them. Like, let them know I've been thinking about them." He looks at me. "Because it must be a terrible fate to be forgotten."

My head's spinning. "...yeah."

He squeezes my shoulder. "Do you need a minute?" I don't say anything, but Murph stands up and takes a few steps back.

I take in a breath. "Uh..." I don't fucking know what to say. Like, they're dead. 'Thanks for giving birth to my husband'? That's in bad taste, even for me. 'I'll try my best to make him happy'? Murph and I both know that's not something we can both always do. 'I love your son with all my heart' is just cheesy. And I don't wanna say something like that right now.

I look back at Murph. He tiredly smiles and gives me a little wave.

All I say is, "I'll try to take care of him as best I can. I promise."

After tea with Mrs. Rodriguez, Murph and I slip back into the car and buckle up. He swallows and starts the car, but then turns it off.

"...what?"

He looks at me, and his blue eyes are sad. Real sad. "I wish they could've met you," he choked out, taking off his glasses to wipe his eyes. "God, I wish I could stop crying. What are you doing to me?"

I smirk and lean over the center console to hug him. "I would've liked to've met them, too."

Murph sniffs and pulls back. "You didn't have to come today, Tommy." And before I can say anything, he adds, "But thank you for coming, still."

I hold his hand the drive back. I keep looking at him and wondering how I would've turned out if Mum and Dad, or even Michael, died if I was that little. Would I've met Murph? Would I've moved here? Thinking about it makes me sick to my stomach.

When we get home, Murph sighs heavy and says, "I'm going to be in my room, okay?"

I nod. "I, uh...'m gonna make a call."

He nods and goes inside.

I'm connected to the WiFi and call Mum. "Hey."

"Tom, i's after tea," she almost whines. "Wha' is i'?"

I swallow away whatever I'm feeling when she says it and say, "I'm real glad you're my mum. That's all."

She doesn't say anything for a good long while. And then after waiting for a minute, she says, "'m sorry."

I frown. "I know."

"I...'m sorry, Tom."

I wanna look away. But I don't have anything to look away from.

"Thanks, Mum."