The windows were rolled down as my car strolled quietly down Flounder Street. I always thought it was funny as a little kid, living on Flounder Street. I guess a little kid who will laugh at "wiener" will also laugh at "flounder." The 93 degree heat was beating down on me through the windshield. It was times like these that I wish I was actually financially sound enough to own a car with air conditioning that worked.
The dash said it was just past 2 o'clock. I'd gotten stuck in a traffic jam on the highway, so I was a little late to my parents house. As a 25 year old just getting his master's in journalism, I was shit broke. I was taking a week to visit with my family before heading back towards college to look for a summer job. I just graduated from Ohio University's Journalism program and was now stuck in a terrible economy with a less than practical degree at this point. I was just hoping to find work. Something that would pay the bills and rent on my apartment. Jonathon and Mark, my roommates, were holding down the fort while I was gone.
My car finally rolled into the gravel driveway and I shut her off. I stayed there for a few moments, breathing in the fresh North Carolinian air, however humid it was that day. Then my silence broke, and the front door flew open with my mother running out to my car.
"Oh Kenneth, Oh my baby." She oozed and instantly wrapped me in a bone shattering hug. I hugged her back with as much fervor, equally excited to spend time with my family for a week. It was hard, living as a college student in a different state. You weren't able to come home often and hang with the folks, which I really did enjoy.
Plus, not to mention, my Ducati was sitting in the garage here, waiting for me to return. I didn't dare take it with me to school, with nowhere safe to put it.
"Oh honey, I missed you so much." She kept kissing my cheek. "Oh... honey, you need to shave." She scratched my scruff, then backed off and smiled. "Lemme look atcha." I sighed, honestly just wanting to get out of the heat. "Grown into such a fine young stud."
My dad came out second. He looked so much older that it almost choked me up a bit. His hair, albeit most of it is gone, was completely gray and he was starting to hunch over slightly. Still, he insisted that the motorcycles and guitar playing kept him young, and far be it for me to tell him otherwise. Then my little sister, Carley, ran out, and I couldn't even believe how big she'd gotten. I crushed her into a hug too, missing my little sister's incessant chatter almost too much.
"Carls, who the hell are you?"
She smiled and twirled. "You've been gone too long, I'm not that much different."
"How old are you now, 12?" I joked. She hated it most when I joked about her age and punched me.
"Asshole. I'm 17."
It still amazed me. Just yesterday, I was her big brother, chasing away the monsters in her room. Now, I'm probably going to have to come home more often and beat off the boys with a stick.
My mom ushered us in and a wave of her hand and a "Lunch's almost ready, come on come on."
We chattered easily as we ate, and I found myself loving every minute of it. While I loved the single college life, with parties and girls all the time, it was nice to be able to talk with my family like the old times.
"Oh, Kenneth, I almost forgot." Mom suddenly jolted. "The Fallats, you remember them?" My eyebrows scrunched up, and I slowly put my fork down.
"Yeah... Scarlet and Tony. They moved when I was in high school."
She smiled and nodded. "Yes, yes. But their parents have moved back here. Apparently New York was too crazy for their lifestyle, so they got John's old job back and moved back here a couple months ago."
Huh. Well wouldn't you know. Scarlet was my best friend growing up and Tony was her little brother. I was a year older than her, but she was the most amazing thing I knew at the time. We'd grown up in the same neighborhood with the same group of kids, but she was my best friend. Her heart was set on picking up snakes rather than playing with Barbie dolls.
The best memory I have of her is when we were 13 and sitting by the old pond a few miles behind our houses. We were talking as usual, enjoying the summer air. Then she asked me if I'd ever kissed anyone. I remember my heart hammering. Why'd she ask me that? I said yes, I had. I hadn't. Scarlet looked defeated, yet determined, and immediately stuck her lips against mine. Whether she knew it or not, Scarlet gave me my first kiss that day, and it was something I'll never forget because my lips tasted like her mothers honey when I licked them afterwards. I don't remember what we said afterwards, but I know that night I couldn't stop thinking about her.
Then we got into our middle school/high school years and she changed. Not for the worse, but became more feminine, and I couldn't help but forgetting the old her. Boys chased after her, and it almost seemed like she didn't know what to do with the attention she was getting. Eventually, she found even ground, but that even ground didn't include much of me in it. It was sad, seeing our friendship grow apart in those later years. Then, in our sophomore year, her dad got a new job in New York, and they moved almost immediately. We stayed good friends in those early months. Almost every night, we'd be on the phone. I helped her through her days of not knowing anyone, to the days of knowing a few people, to the days of going on her first date. Then, the phone calls kept coming fewer and fewer, and we eventually lost most touch with each other.
Suffice to say, she dated, and I dated, and nothing ever came of it. When the time to choose colleges came around, I chose Ohio and she chose Florida. She came back to visit in the summer of her senior year. Only for a little while, but still, it was nice, and very playful on the surface. The day we said goodbye was weirder than expected. We spent a while reminiscing on all those times as kids that we'd had together. When we'd climbed to the top of the tree on Harp Street and her mom and my mom almost had heart attacks. When we'd ate all her mother's honey from her cabinet and were sick for days.
I hadn't seen Scarlet in years and haven't kept much contact with her besides the occasional phone call, which were still pretty rare.
"Well, Scarlet's visiting, and so is Tony. I told them you were in town and that you'd stop by later tonight."
I nodded, wondering what I was ever going to say to them. After so many years, what do you say to the two little kids you lived down the street from?
After dinner, I walked over to the old house that Scarlet and Tony grew up in. Another family owned the house now, but it was still nice to see that much of it hadn't changed. There was still the big crack in the bricks, and still the big oak with moss towering over the roof.
I kept walking towards their new house, a couple of streets over. I knew I was there when I got to the old Grand Am sitting in the driveway. It was Scarlet's first car. She loved that thing and told her parents that they couldn't ever sell it.
I went up to the front door and knocked slowly. Mrs. Fallat answered after a few seconds, and she looked almost identical to what I remember her as. "Oh my god, Kenneth?" I smiled. "Kenneth Graham? My god, boy, you must've grown about 10 feet. Please come in dear, sit down." All the older women I knew said things like "honey" and "dear" and "sweetheart." I'd grown up around that kind of hospitality and warmth.
We talked for a little while about how college was, how long I'd be in town, if I had work, etc. Tony walked in and we exchanged a handshake and a nice hug that was long overdue. He'd grown into a nice looking kid, almost 19.
