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Maine
I stood there wistfully watching as the last leaf broke away from the clutches of the
skeletal oak tree. Twirling and dancing on the current of the nipping wind, the golden leaf fell
down, down. Being tossed and blown from to one corner of the small yard to the next, it never
found a resting place. It passed by other leaves with brilliant colors of crimson and auburn. It
seemed dissatisfied; almost restless. Flip, flop, flip flop; over it turned and leaped. It tumbled
closer to the black wrought iron gate that was left swinging open in the wind. Just as it reached
the road the U-Haul truck pulled up and crushed the leaf. I felt numb as the movers walked up
the cold cement stairs, right by me.
Couches, coffee tables, dressers, and chairs – I could imagine the rooms inside the small,
gray brick house becoming empty as the strong men loaded it all into the back of the semi.
We’ve lived in a total of 7 different states in my 17 years – my dad and I. finally he
grew tired of living in Washington, and none too soon. After five long months it became my
least favorite place to live. Even though It was beautiful---- when it wasn’t raining .
Speaking of rain, a steady drizzle now hit the ashen pavement. It became a dark gray hue
that resembled the clouds that hung overhead. The leaves that once tossed and frolicked around
the yard were now plastered to the grass.
Bang! The movers slammed shut the door to the truck just as my dad was walking out
the door, locking it behind him. Turning, he looked around the yard to take in the view one last
time. His dark brown eyes looked unsure, almost afraid.
“Well, let’s go kiddo.” he said giving me a gentle pat on the shoulder as he brisklywalked
towards the car. I stepped back to take one final look at the house. Five months wasn’t enough
time for this to even begin to feel like home. But I had become used to not having a place that
feels like home.
Latching shut the gate for the last time, I headed to the car. As I walked around the U-
haul I noticed the leaf – barely trapped under the tire. I snatched it up and joined my dad who
was looking at the atlas. “We are going all the way to Maine! This is going to be a long trip.
Better get comfortable.”
“Yeah…” I sighed, as I put in my headphones.
I tucked the golden leaf into the pages of a worn Bible I found in the glove compartment.
I knew it’d be safe and untouched there. I’m not sure why that Bible was there, but ever since I
can remember that old book has been buried there. Off we went, with the semi trailing behind
us.
We passed by thousands of cars. I entertained myself by wondering what each person
was thinking as they drove by. One mom yells at her children in the back seat as she spilled her
coffee on her pants. Another guy laughs along with the talk radio and rough-looking truckers are
still shaking off their sleepiness knowing they have a long haul ahead.
Then I focused on my own thoughts and day dreamed about Maine and what it would be
like. A temporary excitement took over but was soon destroyed at the realization that it would
be just like every other place we live. The scenery might change, the faces, the front door, but
that feeling of emptiness always remained.
It took a total of three days to arrive at our new place.
“This is it!” announced Dad as he pulled into the driveway. My eyes trailed up the
crooked red brick path which led up to the green front door. The house was choked from top to
bottom in gangly vines, giving the house an eerie appearance. The numbers 6541 were fixed in
gold horizontally next to the doorbell. At least I thought it was a doorbell, but I couldn’t tell
since it was partially hidden by plant life. Six hours later the new house was full of boxes and
furniture. Since there are only two of us, Dad let me have the first pick of any room in the house.
I explored my new home and climbed the creaky stairs. It felt as if the boards under my feet
would break and I’d fall through at any moment. I braced myself with the hand rail, which
wasn’t much more secure than the stairs. I wandered from room to room, imagining who lived
in this house before us. I could hear the bare feet of small children thundering across the
hardwood floor. This would be a great house for hide and go seek. I sometimes wonder what it
would be like to have brothers to wrestle with or sisters to do my hair and share clothes with.
I had explored most of the house except one door which was still left unopened. It
looked like a tiny coat closet and it stuck a little when I tried to open it. I leaned up against it and
gave it a hard nudge with my shoulder. It quickly swung open and a musty smell filled the air.
More stairs? Rays of light shone on dusty cobwebs that blocked the narrow stairway.
Pushing past them, I climbed to the top of the steps. It was a brisk day, without a cloud
in the sky and the sun shined brilliantly through the windows, making the room very bright. It
was a circular shaped room with a ladder to one side that led to a high window seat. It seemed
sturdy enough, so I carefully climbed up. I had to duck not to hit my head as a crawled into a
little cove. An old couch cushion padded the seat below the medium- sized window. Using the
corner of my sweater, I rubbed the hazy film off the window and peered through. Over the roofs
and past the tree tops, I spotted the Atlantic Ocean. Below in the driveway, I could see my Dad
unloading the rest of the luggage from the car.
“I picked out my room.” I told him as I walked by. He was now standing in the living
room, which was stacked to the ceiling with boxes, looking slightly bewildered.
“Alright, I’ll take your things to your room… once I find them.” he replied.
I really loved my new room. Although it was a little chilly up there, I soon got used to it.
I’d often climb up to the window seat and listen to my iPod and stare out at the ocean.
School started about a week after we arrived. It was always the same at every school.
The teachers were usually fine; as long as I did my homework, they didn’t bother me. My
classmates were nice enough. Some of them introduced themselves and helped me find my
classrooms while others completely ignored me. It was my senior year of high school, and I
wanted to get it over with. Not that school was a horrible experience for me, but I never looked
forward to it. Every time I saw those kids getting on and off the yellow bus I was reminded of
what happened.
It was my first day of 1st grade. I was a little scared first, but my confidence grew as the
day wore on. The day flew by and pretty soon it was already time to go. The bell rang, we all
lined up as we had practiced, and marched outside onto the bus. I couldn’t wait to tell my
parents all I had done that day. The first stop about five kids got off. Their moms were waiting
for them. They got a big hug and kiss on the cheek and off we went to the next stop. My
excitement built with each block. I was one of the last stops on the route. Finally it was my
street. The driver stopped and I quickly walked down the aisle. When I stepped off the bus I had
expected to see my mom there waiting for me, but to my surprise, it was my dad. “Hi, sweetie.”
He whispered with half an effort of a smile. His words were so soft; they were barely audible as
the bus pulled away. My confusion must have shown on my face because he uneasily cleared his
throat then lifted me into his arms. I was so puzzled I didn’t say a word the whole walk home,
all my excitement rapidly melted away.
After this day I always dreaded the bus ride home. It was painful to watch as my
classmates ran off the bus into their moms loving embrace. I was too young to understand it
then. I wondered why my mom suddenly left. One day I came home to Dad packing everything
into boxes. His heart had a void that could never be filled again, home would never be the same
without her. He couldn’t bare staying there, it’d be a daily reminder she’s gone. If a place
becomes too familiar, the pain creeps up on him. Memories flood back like a storm.
That’s when he knows it’s time to pack again. He’ll never escape them though, no matter
how far he runs, she’ll never fade away from his life.
I didn’t want to think about it though. What’s thinking about it going to do? It’s not
going to bring her back to life. So I push it away. Again and again I force myself to stop
thinking about it. I was as bad as Dad. I was trying to run away from something that would
never let go of me. She was a big part of me, the short time I had with her impacted my life
more than I know.
One thing I loved about Maine was the snow. It was breathtaking looking down at the
sparkling, glittery world from the view of my high window seat. It seemed as the world had
been washed new. Everything was fresh and clean. I felt cheerful inside as I got ready for
school that day. I ate a quick breakfast, grabbed my school books, and said a quick goodbye to
Dad as I threw on my coat and dashed out into the dazzling white world.
A snow-plow truck passed by my driveway as I pulled out in the car. The roads were
covered in a thick white blanket. I wasn’t used to driving on such icy roads. Washington never
got this much snow. I braked at the stop sign, but the old, bald tires had little traction on the
snow and slid right into the intersection. All at once, my life was in slow motion. Out of the
corner of my eye I saw an object moving towards me. I watched helplessly as a truck neared
closer and smashed into the metal of my door. I threw my hands over my head and turned away
from the window.
That was the last I remembered about the accident. According to my dad, I was
unconscious for a few days. Apparently I hit my head pretty hard. The doctors said I was lucky
that I wasn’t hurt worse. I woke up feeling confused. My body felt like I had been trampled by
herd of buffalos. I lay quiet for a minute trying to understand what was happening. I turned my
head slightly and that’s when I noticed Dad sitting in a chair near my bed. He was reading a
book. Silent tears were streaming down his face.
“Dad?” I whispered. He looked up, slightly startled and hastily wiped tears off with the
back of his sleeve.
“Well hey there, sweetheart.” He said as he quickly rose from his chair and came over to
me.
“Dad, what’s wrong?”
“Well, honey…” he spoke as he gently brushed my hair off my forehead, “You got into a
car accident. And now you’re…”
“But why were you crying?” I interrupted. “What is that you’re holding?” I softly asked
looking at the book in his hands.
“Well…” he said clearing his throat awkwardly, “This was left in the car. A police
officer gave me everything that was left in the car before it was towed away.” He held up the old
Bible. “You know?” he continued in a trembling voice, “I haven’t touched this thing since your
mom passed away. She used read it to you every day. After she…” he paused, swallowed, took
a deep breath and continued, “After the accident, I couldn’t bare reading it anymore. If God
would let such a terrible thing happen to my family, then I wouldn’t have nothing to do with
Him.” He was silent for a moment then went on, “I was so scared that I had lost you too. What
would I have to live for I had lost you...” His voice trailed off.
“Oh, Dad.” I whispered starting to cry. I reached for his hand and squeezed it tight. Now
we were both quiet for a little while.
Dad finally broke the silence by saying, “Funny thing… I found a leaf in one of the
pages… it was in the chapter of John. There was a highlighted verse on the page. It was John
16:33, which says, ‘In this world you will have trouble. But take heart; I have overcome the
world.’ That was your mom’s favorite verse. I’ve been doing a lot of thinking lately and I’ve
realized I’ve always been so scared about what the future might hold. But your mother…” he
paused as if he was gathering his thoughts, “She would never want us to be living like this. She
was never scared of the future. She had a hope and peace deep inside her that I wish I had. You
would have been better off if I was taken instead of her.”
“No, Dad, don’t say that.” It was painful, but I sat up and hugged him. It reminded me
the day he carried me home on the day of Mom’s accident. I whispered “I love you, Dad.” in his
ear and we cried together.
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