Goodbyes

         The day came far too soon. Dad and I had spent the last two weeks packing boxes and sorting through Mom's things. "We will each keep one thing of hers and carry it everywhere we go so she'll always be with us." The rest, he said, would be given to charity. And that is exactly what we did. I think I cried more tears within that two-week period than I have in my entire life. Dad seemed much closer to me now, but he would still lock himself up in his bedroom for hours on end without saying anything or coming downstairs.

         The last few days before we were scheduled to leave for the boarding school, I spent saying goodbye to all my friends from school. Dad also made his rounds to the family with me attached. I could tell my Grandmother was disappointed. She shook her head at him spoke animatedly while I was out of earshot. As I watched how my Dad's own mother reacted, I knew he must feel ashamed of what he was doing, but for one reason or another, he knew it was best for me.

         The last person we visited was Uncle Max. He last time I saw Uncle Max was when I was in diapers (at least that's what my mom always said) because he left his wife and took Alex with him. Apparently, from what I could remember, he had a good lawyer who painted Aunt Pam as "unfit" to parent a child in her condition. I never understood what that meant, but I knew one thing – Uncle Max was Dad's brother and soon both their sons would be going to the same boarding school and would be away from their family until graduation in twelfth grade.

         At Uncle Max's, I observed. The first thing I noticed was that Uncle Max seemed young. It was weird to me that Uncle Max was younger than Dad. I mean, if Dad was 33 with a 12-year-old son, then how young was Uncle Max when 16-year-old Alex was born? I contemplated it and discovered that all it meant was that he was too young to decide to have children – that was what I had heard on an episode of Maury "Kids Having Kids" or something like that.

         I went over and hugged Uncle Max awkwardly and noticed that he was a short and slender man, very unlike my dad. Dad was 6'1 and had all kinds of muscles. I suppose that was because he worked on a farm while Uncle Max did accounting.

         As we sat, I looked around. There were all kinds of pictures of Uncle Max and Alex when he was young, but none that were recent. It made me wonder when the last time he saw Alex was and if that was going to happen to me. Would Dad even keep my pictures around in frames on the entertainment center and on the walls in the hall if I were gone?

         "So, Nicky" Uncle Max said as he moved to the sofa and sat next to me.

         "Nick," I corrected him.

         "Oh, gosh, yes, of course. You're not a little kid anymore are you?"

         "Apparently not," I began looking at my dad with angst, "I'm going to be living on my own soon."
         "Right." Uncle Max paused and then put his arm around me. I wanted to brush him away but it felt nice to feel human touch. "You know your cousin Alex started at that school around your age too." I shook my head, waiting. "And he loves it." Then, Uncle Max looked at Dad. There was a silent and invisible nod of recognition between them. I knew their language; it was the type Mom and Dad used to have.

         "I know you don't really have any reason to believe me, right?" As he looked at me, I nodded in agreement. "Well," he said, grunting as he stood up and disappeared into the other room. Dad gave me the kind of look he gives when he wants me to shut up and pay attention right before Uncle Max returned.

         When Uncle Max came back he carried a shoebox. He sat back down next to me and handed it to me, taking the cover off. "Here. Take a look. They are all letters Alex wrote to me about the school." I dipped my hands in and fished out a random letter.

 

Dear Dad

This week has been sweet! Right now we are working on our Health projects and I get to do a video with Collin. You remember Collin? He is my mentor. I have learned so much from Coach Vester. He's my favorite teacher because he teaches Health, P.E., and Swimming. I have A's in all those classes. I'm doing pretty well in my academics too, but my favorite part is how much time we have to ourselves. I have class Monday, Wednesday, and Friday and work on Tuesdays and Thursdays. Right now we are signing up for jobs, so I'm not sure what job I will have but we earn merits for our work which we can use to buy things or watch movies or stay out late. It's so fun here, Dad. I am so glad I'm here with all these really cool kids and teachers who really care about us.

Love you, Dad

 

Alex

 

         Reading the letter didn't help me feel that much better. Yes, it sounded like fun but it seemed like the kind of fun that would get old really quickly. But I could see my father was on the edge of his seat, hoping that I would show some enthusiasm, so I did. Then, both Uncle Max and Dad seemed very relieved.

         "I have only one question, Uncle Max."

         "Sure. What is it buddy?"

         "How often do you see Alex?" I could tell I made Dad and Uncle Max really uncomfortable.

         Sighing, Uncle Max drooped his head. "Not much, buddy." Dad tried to chime in but Uncle Max shushed him and continued. "But that wasn't my decision, okay? Do you get that?"

         "Yeah." I looked at Dad and wondered how much he planned to visit, but at that point, I suppose it didn't matter anymore.

        

         Dad said I could only take one bag. He said that they supplied clothing, so I did not need to pack any. I brought the one item I chose to keep from Mom – the broach she wore on Christmas. I packed my video game first, then my favorite books and my mp3 player. The last thing to go in was my favorite blanket and I wrapped Mom's broach in it.

         The drive was long. We went high up into the mountains and then back down into the valleys for hours. I sat there silently as Dad drove. I knew Dad was nervous like I was, but he didn't show it. He seemed somewhat relieved to be getting this over with. After about two hours of silence, after I could hardly stand it anymore and I was sick of listening to music, Dad broke the silence.

         "I'll be living in Seattle." It was the craziest bombshell he could have possible dropped on me but I hardly had any emotions about it.

         "Okay. Sure."

         "So, I'll only be a few hours away, okay?" I shook my head and accepted his version of the bright side.

         The rest of the drive I spent napping. I would awaken from time to time and see trees and then I would doze off again. Finally, Dad shook me. When I opened my eyes, we were turning left into a woodsy area with a huge sign that said: "Prosperity Boys Ranch" like the sign "Work will make you free" in the front of the Auschwitz concentration camp in Poland. And as far as my 12-year-old mind could conceive, it might as well have been.

         We pulled into the loop at the front entrance and parked. Dad told me to stay in the car for a few minutes. The administration building was gorgeous – it looked like a brightly painted medieval castle. I got out of the car and went to the side of the building to see past the wrought iron fence. What I saw astounded me. The sun was shining down to illuminate the huge swimming pool and common areas. They had a basketball court, tennis court, volleyball sand court, waterfall, a stage, and what looked like an arcade in the tiny building attached to the administrative offices. Kids and adults were swimming, smiling, laughing, and relaxing. It was as though I had looked at the cover of a magazine – it was beautiful.

         I stepped back and sneaked my way past the front of the administration building to look at the other side where the dormitories were. They were just as beautiful looking as the administration building – modern yet stylish. All the boys and adults seemed to move around freely without having to walk in lines or carrying a lot of heavy books. To my surprise, I was actually dying to get behind the fence and explore.

         "Hey, son!" A tall, shirtless man called out and I whipped around in surprise.

         "Hey." It was all I could say. I wasn't sure if I was caught doing something wrong or if he was just saying hello, but I felt awkward.

         "What's your name?" he asked holding out his hand. I shook it and told him my name. "My name is Randy. Are you starting today?" I shook my head. The man took my hand and escorted me inside the front of the administration building with a smile, telling me about how much fun I will have being here. He said that he came here at my age too and that he loves it so much that he got a job as a teacher.

         When we got inside I took a seat in one of the front room chairs. Randy sat with me and told me all about how much the school is expanding. He told me that each student is assigned a peer mentor and a teacher mentor. "Maybe I will end up being your mentor, you never know. Wouldn't that be cool?"

         I was frozen as I sat there. I could tell Randy knew I was still a little perplexed and scared, so he brought me a soda and excused himself. Dad was in the glass room right in front of where I was sitting. It only took a few minutes for him to look over and see me. He smiled and so did the man with whom he was speaking.

         Putting in my mp3 player, I tried to drown everything out and close my eyes. When I did this, I would imagine having cookouts where Dad and I would play catch and Mom would cook on the grill or I'd think of the family vacation we took to Disneyland when everyone was happy and healthy. When I opened my eyes, I was back to reality and I hated those moments.

         When Dad returned, he took me outside and asked the man in the suit for just a moment. When we got outside, Dad opened the trunk and pulled out my bag. I could tell he was holding back tears and so was I. He checked the bag again and again to make sure I had everything and set down all the paperwork he had from meeting with the man in the suit. I couldn't see much except a few parts: "Boarding Cost: $89,999." I knew then that Dad must have truly spent the entire value of the farm on this school. It was like a resort and, I guessed, it cost as much as one. Then, I saw a part of the contract I never admitted to my dad: "Éagreement to limit contact between the student and family members to writing for two yearsÉ" I think I gasped a little because Dad shot his head toward me.

         "Give me that," he said sternly. "That's just paperwork. Nothing for you to see." Then he stood staring at me with contempt in his eyes, wondering, I could tell, what I had read.

         "This place costs a lot, Dad." I sounded pathetic only because I knew I wouldn't get to see my father for two years. I wanted to run away but wouldn't know where to run. It was like being in the middle of nowhere. I would starve to death before I found civilization beyond this place with the wrought iron gate.

         The man in the suit was standing outside the front door now with his hands folded behind his back. He looked like he worked for the Secret Service or something with his dark sunglasses and phony smile on his face. I wanted to flip him off.

         "Nicky." Dad turned my body toward him. Tears were streaming down his face. "I love you."

         "I know, Dad." I remained stoic. I knew Dad was crying because he knew he wouldn't see me for two years, but I couldn't let him know I knew. "You'll come by soon, right? Check on me?"

         "Yeah, wellÉin a few months. For now, I'm going to have to get settled in Seattle. I'm going to be busy trying to find a job and a place to live, alright?" I shook my head. "But hey! You can always write to me until then, okay?"

         "Yeah." I cried as my dad hugged me one last time before getting into the car. I turned toward the man in the suit who summoned me to come along with him. Then, as the engine revved up, I turned and watched my father drive away.