And they’d lost theirs.
What would he do now?
He grabbed a fast food bag from the floorboard and snatched a pen from the visor. Almost without thought, he bled out the words from his aching soul:
You left me when I needed you
Though I looked, you weren’t around
Now I stand here, my heart breaking
I am lost and can’t be found.
* * *
Mike stood on a bridge overlooking a river in God Knew Where, Alabama. Days of driving brought him to this place. He’d left his home, his family, to work on a farm here, a ranch there, or maybe a construction site for a few days.
His birthday came and went, with no acknowledgment other than the pie he’d ordered to privately celebrate in a diner. The waitress sang an off-key rendition ofHappy Birthdaybefore he hit the road again.
The Bronco was his home now, one of his few links to his father.
In an act of desperation, he pulled out the cheap burner cellphone he’d bought at an all-night department store and dialed the landline of his house. No, not his house.
He’d been gone eight weeks now. Surely they’d calmed down and changed their mind. Did they miss him?
Please let his stepfather not be the one to pick up.
Relief swept through him when his mother’s sweet voice answered. “Rose residence.”
“M… Mom?”
Silence.
“Mama?”
No sweetness remained when she hissed into the phone, “You can’t call here. Please don’t call again.”
“But, Mom. I’m your son!” Desperate tears burned Mike’s cheeks.
In a voice devoid of emotion, she said, “Not anymore.”
He stood on the bridge, breath fogging in front of his face, totally frozen, inside and out. Then the pain began.
Screaming out his agony, he dropped to his knees. Wracking sobs shook him from head to toe.
His last chance, gone now.
He’d not been allowed to make close friends since he couldn’t hang out and everyone feared his stepfather. His only friend turned out to be, well… Keith.
Though he’d been willing enough, Mike had never even gotten the chance to commit the sinful acts his family probably thought he had.
What had he done to deserve everyone who mattered turning their backs on him? He’d never been anyone but his parents’ son, his brothers’ brother, a mediocre student, a decent musician. Without what mattered most in his life, who was he?
Nothing. An empty shell. He sat on damp asphalt and rubbed away tears with his hands.
Alone. No one to depend on but himself. With great effort he pulled himself up the railing to stand overlooking the stream once again. Using every bit of his strength, he swung his arm and opened his hand. The phone hit the water with a satisfying splash.
This was it. The moment of decision he’d so often heard about. He had two choices: follow the phone into oblivion, or rise above and come out the other side of this heartbreak a better man.
