Iridian

07. HOME

.memory (fragment #6)

At 6pm sharp, Dante dropped me off just around the corner to my mother's house. The evening sky was an odd mixture of a beautiful glowing sunset in the distance, broken by dark rain clouds swiftly gathering to where I stood. It was like seeing two different paintings and it didn't improve my mood. Dante rolled down the driver's window, leaned out to say something then paused as if changing his mind.

"I'll pick you up here when you're ready. Just text me," he said instead and was soon disappearing down the curb.

I was left there still doubting whether I'd made the right decision to see my family. What if I didn't want to leave after? But deep inside, I already knew the answer to that. There was no question that I would go, it was just a matter of how I would break it to them, or if I would even say anything. I couldn't tell them the truth, so it was either lie or just walk away, and it had to be done tonight because tomorrow I would be departing the country. Both options left a bitter taste in my mouth.

Slowly, I made my way to my mother's home, taking the path that I had walked a thousand times, as familiar to me as the back of my hand. In the months since I'd moved out, the neighbourhood had remained the same. Mr. Lee's large retriever walked up to his gate, wagging his fluffy tail vigorously at me, as always. I reached through the wide bars of the gate and gave him a pet. His name was Bobo and we'd known each other since he was a fat, excitable puppy. Children romped at the small playground at the end of the street, their laughter carrying over to where I stood. I knew their parents would soon call them in for dinner. It was nice to see them out playing, getting some air instead of being ensconced at home in front of the TV or their game stations.

Julian's dark cream cat, Lucas, jumped off the wall he'd been pacing and made his way to me, giving a meow of greeting. I picked him up, stroking his soft fur. He'd obviously just had a bath by how clean he smelled.

"Well then Lucas, I guess we won't be seeing each other after tonight," I whispered to him. I meant it as a joke but my throat felt a little lumpy. Lucas' response was to purr and nudge my hand for another scratch. I carried Lucas the rest of the way to the wood and steel gates that marked the entryway to my old home. He jumped out of my arms and led the way, turning back to meow inquiringly when I didn't follow him, as I paused to gaze at the extremities of the house.

The bouganvillas were in full bloom, as were the hibiscus, scattering a myriad of colours across the lawn—layers of pinks, red and yellows, and the elegant white hibiscus with its dash of blood red in the center. The stubborn old rose plant was displaying its delicate pink flowers. The hydrangeas added their purples and blues to mix. The Japanese roses lining the driveway were beginning to close up for the evening but even they left an impression of colour. I'd never seen my mother's garden display such gaiety before. It was as if the plants had decided they would give me a lasting impression, to store for the coming years.

The walls had been repainted, covering up the darkened ravages of years. New tiles were laid out over the garage. Juno's rickety old Honda was parked there, and so was Faris' much newer Ford. I imagine Juno would be thrilled that I would be leaving her my kitted Mitsubishi—once she found out of course—because I wouldn't be telling her tonight. Juno was a car fanatic, endlessly tinkering with the insides of the bonnet.

Everything that I was leaving behind was summarized in the thick envelope I carried in my bag—all my meagre assets split between my mother, Julian and Juno. I would bring nothing with me, not my clothes, my books, money, nothing. My expenses were completely handled by Dante and he would not let me pay for anything, explaining that it was all taken care of and that I would be getting my own account later. It was literally a form of death. I would be disappearing forever.