Chapter 15 #2

Atlanta, and now it’s in practically every mall across

America.”

“What’s

a department store?”

“A place where

you can buy things such as clothing, shoes, and some other home

goods. I’ll take you to one and show you while you’re

here.”

“And you own

this entirely?”

“I share

ownership with my brother, Stanley. I’m the chief executive

officer, which means I pretty much run the company. Stanley,

unfortunately, prefers to spend the money we make rather than work

for it. His ownership is nominal.”

“And do Clint

and Cara work for the company?”

Randall snorts

loudly. “Hardly. They follow in their father’s footsteps

and pretty much live off their trust funds.”

I’m silent for

a while as I digest this. My first impressions of Clint and Cara were

not favorable. They seemed like frivolous people to me, both wanting

to discuss nothing more than parties and expensive toys. Neither one

of them would survive five minutes in the rainforest.

Not Moira, I

realize. She’s a very resourceful woman and, despite her lack

of caution while tromping through the jungle on the day we left

Caraica, almost earning her a snakebite, I expect if she was left to

her own devices to survive in that environment, she would ultimately

have no problem. This thought actually makes me proud of Moira. Makes

me respect her even more.

Before long, Randall

turns off into a neighborhood that actually looks similar to the one

that Moira lives in. The trees are a bit different looking, but the

houses are small and well maintained. After navigating through a few

streets, Randall finally pulls in front of a little, yellow house

with black shutters and a black front door. The porch is white, and

two rocking chairs sit to one side.

Immediately, I

recognize this as the house I lived in until I was seven. Emotion

floods through me as memories abound. I remember playing with little,

plastic toy soldiers, right there in the front yard. I know in the

backyard there’s a peach tree I used to climb, and my mom would

admonish me not to eat the fruit before it was ripe.

I swallow hard as

Randall turns off the car and opens his door. I go ahead and exit, my

eyes soaking in everything, right down to the little red and yellow

flowers that border the sidewalk that leads up to the porch.

Randall walks over

to me and holds his hand out. I absently reach outward, and he drops

a key in my hand. I look down at it, and then back up to Randall.

“Let’s

go take a look, shall we?” he asks.

I nod and head up

the porch, my feet feeling heavy. The key slides smoothly in the

lock, and I give it a turn. As soon as I step in, I recognize

everything. The tiny living room still has the same couch and

loveseat from when I lived here. It’s quite ugly now that I

think about it, in shades of brown and orange-patterned prints of

birds. The floorboards creak slightly as I walk further in, and I

swear I can actually envision my father sitting on the couch,

silently reading a Bible passage.

Turning to look into

the small kitchen, I see it’s still painted the same butter

yellow with white lace curtains over the window that sits above the

sink. I imagine my mom leaning down to pull chocolate chip cookies

from the oven while she hums softly to herself.

I can even see

myself running down the narrow hallway, calling out to my mom, “Look

what I made, Mommy.”

I handed her a

drawing done in crayons of a little stick figure boy with a small,

brown dog at his feet. “Can we have a dog?”

My mom laughed at

me as she looked at the drawing. “That’s beautiful, Zach,

but you know we can’t have a dog. We’re leaving next

month for Brazil, and there would be no one to take care of it.”

“ Uncle

Randall can watch it for us. I’m sure he’d do it.”

My mom ruffled my

hair and leaned down to kiss me. “I’m sure he would,

baby. But if you’re going to have a dog, you need to be the one

to care for it. Maybe we can get one when we get back, okay?”

Disappointment

filled me because I didn’t want to go on this mission trip with

my parents. I loved Jesus, and all of his teachings, but I didn’t

want to leave my home… my friends… Uncle Randall. I

loved it here.

“ I don’t

want to go,” I said petulantly. “I want to stay here with

Uncle Randall, like the last time you went.”

“ But we’re

going to be gone longer. At least a year,” my mom told me with

a confident smile. “We can’t leave you for that long. I’d

miss you too much.”

“ I don’t

care,” I told her angrily. “I’ll hate it there.”

My mom bent down

and picked me up, nuzzling my neck. “You won’t hate it

there, silly. But if on the off chance that you do, we won’t

make you come back with us again. How’s that for a promise?”

I wanted to cry

and stomp my feet in denial, but I knew it wouldn’t do any

good. This trip had been planned for a while now, and there was no

changing it. We had this conversation many times before. My mom set

me back down, giving me some warm cookies with a glass of milk.

Cookies usually made everything seem better, but not that time. That

time, they tasted like dirt.

I blink my eyes,

falling out of the memory hard. I had totally forgotten that I never

wanted to go to the Amazon with my parents. That I was bitter about

it, and that I wanted to stay here with my godfather. I turn slowly

to look at Randall, who is watching me with kind eyes.

“I never

wanted to go to Brazil with my parents,” I say stupidly.

Randall nods at me

with understanding. “No, you didn’t. But your parents

understood that. You were too young to share their passion for

helping to teach Christianity to the Indians. But they couldn’t

very well leave you behind. Not for the extended trip they had

planned. They loved you too much to ever do that.”

“Yet, they

ultimately did leave me… when they died,” I say with a

bitterness that surprises me. “They left me in a strange world.

They left me unprotected.”

Randall takes a few

strides toward me, resting his hands on my shoulders. “Don’t

be angry with them for that, Zach. They’re gone. You can’t

undo that, and you know they never wanted anything bad to happen to

you. They trusted they were doing the right thing.”

“Right for

who? For them?”

Sighing, Randall

squeezes my shoulders. “They thought it was right for your

family, and we can’t change that.”

I pull away from

Randall and walk down the hallway to my bedroom. My head is spinning

with resentment, and I’m ashamed of myself. Ashamed that I

would feel that way toward my parents, who are dead, and ashamed that

I’m actually having bitterness over having left this home that

I’m standing in right at this moment. It’s the absolute

same feeling I had not less than a month ago when I was told I had to

leave my home in Caraica.

Now, I’m

confused. I don’t know where my home truly is. I feel like I

belong neither here nor there. Every bit of sure footing that I had

seems to be sliding out from underneath me.

I peek inside of my

bedroom, and it’s exactly as I remembered it. A tiny twin bed

with Batman sheets and a blanket. Various toys are scattered over my

dresser, and a baseball bat and glove lay on top of a footlocker at

the bottom of my bed. Everything is very clean and without a speck of

dust anywhere. I assume Randall has been maintaining this house all

these years.

Turning from my

room, I walk across the hall to my parents’ room. Immediate

recognition assaults me as I take in their wrought-iron bed covered

in a pale blue and white quilt. Their dresser is covered with

photographs of our family, and I walk up to them to peruse, trying to

remain dispassionate as I take in the smiling faces and happy family

union. Closing my eyes, I swear I can even smell my mom’s

subtly sweet perfume, and a flash of pain and longing seeps into my

bones, replacing some of the bitterness I was feeling moments ago.

I open one of the

drawers, but it’s empty of clothing.

“I ended up

giving away all the clothing, but everything else I left the same. I

have someone come in weekly to clean the place.”

Nodding my head, I

take a peek outside the window and look out into the backyard. The

peach tree stands there, looking about ten times larger than I

remember, but it’s devoid of any fruit.

Turning back to

Randall, I clear my throat so he can’t hear the tidal wave of

uncertainty to my feelings. “Thank you for showing me this

today. But I think I’ve seen enough.”

“Sure,”

Randall murmurs. “I’ll take you out to lunch, and we can

just chat some more if you want.”

“Actually…

I’d rather just go back to your house if you don’t mind.

I’d like some time alone, if that’s okay with you.”

Randall smiles at me

with sad eyes and says, “Of course.”

I follow Randall out

of the house and get back in his car with utter silence, lost in my

own thoughts. He says this house is mine, but it’s not.

Not truly.

My true home is back

in Caraica. A longhouse I had built with my own hands, which sits

next to Paraila’s abode. My hammock provided me all the comfort

I needed, and the forest provided me food. I had friends… and

an adopted father that loved me like his own.

I have no need of

any of these things that Randall showed me here today.

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