Going Home: Memories of A Life Changed
He smiled as he picked up the frame from the bureau. He still remembers that day. The sea was calm as they sailed out from the cape. Sailed out from France, his home. His grandfather even let him steer. He could see it all now. The wind flowing past his body as the boat moved through the water. He could feel his grandfather behind him, helping him turn the wheel. He saw his grandmother sitting in front of them smiling as she watched her grandson learn how to sail. He remembered the happiness and simplicity of the day. He even remembered how his parents were, so loving and protective. They didn’t want him to learn. They thought he was too young, but grandfather insisted. They cared about him so much. Then.
He sighed as he put it back down, gently rubbing a finger along his grandfather’s smiling face. He looked at the other pictures, touched that she would bring all these pictures with her when she traveled. His parents wedding photo. Her own wedding. His mom as a smiling girl as she was spun around by her father. A picture of him and his parents, not the formal ones taken every year but one taken while they were on vacation.
His thoughts were interrupted as he heard the yelling travel through the house. He sat on the bed and threw himself with arms spread wide flat onto the soft comforter. He closed his eyes and just lay there. Taking everything in. He smiled as he felt someone sit next to him and felt a hand rub his forehead.
“How was your day?” asked his grandmother gently.
“It was alright.” he replied somewhat disheartened.
“What’s wrong, dear?”
He sighed as he threw one arm across his eyes, “Everything. I just don’t get it anymore. I feel so disconnected from everything around me. It used to be all so simple. You pretended. You play the game and you go through the days. But now. . . . I just so tired of playing.”
“Why is that?” she asked, still stroking his head. She could tell he had alot on is mind.
“It’s all her fault.” He replied somewhat bitterly.
“Who?”
“Rory Gilmore. I think God was laughing at me the day she walked into my life. She is so different from any other girl. She’s real. She never even tried to play the game. She just blew it off. And I admire her so much for that. I was an ass to her when she first came. I had no idea how to act around her. She challenged me and scared me and threw my whole life upside down. Then we came to an understanding and I blew it again. I just wanted to be with her. She even said that she hated me. That’s what did it. That’s when I realized it was pointless. I just stopped trying anymore. Then one day, somehow He stopped laughing and we became friends. We’re so close to each other and yet so far. She makes me feel alive and free. This summer was the best one of my life and then school came around again. And everything about it was still the same; everything except me. I don’t seem to fit in anywhere. I can’ pretend anymore. I can’t be myself. If I ever do figure out who that is,” he added bitterly.
His grandmother just listened. She knew exactly what he was talking about. She had had a similar experience when she had met his grandfather. She knew about school and about that feeling of being closed in and alone. She also knew what it was like to feel free and have to go back to the closed in state. From the time that she arrived, she had known that this Tristin was almost totally different form the one that she had seen a few months ago. There was almost no resemblance between the two. He was very happy but that happiness was tempered with a dark cloud of sadness. A sadness that comes with knowing that your whole life has been just a play, filled with meaningless gestures and actors. The sadness would soon turn into bitterness and then hate. He might even learn to hate this girl whom he talks so highly and caringly about. Only because she was the one who changed everything for him and he became lost because of it. Something needed to be done. She couldn’t let her grandson go through that pain. No one should have to feel lost about who they are. The silence was broken as more yelling filtered up. Having parents fighting couldn’t be helping the kid either. She thought to herself.
Tristin sighed. “Thanks for listening Grandma.” He said almost half asleep,” I love having you here,” he added as he kissed her goodnight.
“Stay strong, my love” she replied as he walked out of the room.
* * * * * * ** * *
Going Home: The Fog Lifts
Something was wrong. Rory practically stopped in the middle of the hallway when she saw Tristin next to her locker. His whole bearing was completely out of character for him. He was leaning into the row of lockers, head bowed, eyes closed and obviously deep in thought. She studied him silently wondering what happened as she walked over to him.
“I’m going home,” said Tristin with a bittersweet smile as he looked up at Rory as she reached her locker.
Rory thought about what he said and remembered that day which seemed so long ago when Tristan opened himself to her and they became friends. . .
“So now that we are friends, I have just realized that I know nothing about you as a person or of your family,” said Rory.
Tristan sighed. He really didn’t like talking about those people whom he was forced to call family members. It only brought him pain to think about his empty childhood and non-existent love. But he thought that he could trust Rory.
“Ok”, he replied somewhat reluctantly, “What do you want to know? Actually, I don’t know that much about you so you have to answer too.”
“Fine. Let’s start with birthdays. Mine’s October 8,” answered Rory and waited for his answer.
Tristan sighed deeply. “June 10.” He answered quietly.
“Hey that’s Saturday! I should take you somewhere to celebrate! Seventeen is a big one.”
“Ok I guess.” Replied Tristan dispassionately refusing to meet her eyes.
Rory was hurt by his response but she missed judged why he was unenthusiastic. “Well alright, I guess you don’t have to do anything with me if you don’t want to.”
Tristan heard her hurt tone and immediately felt the need to explain himself to her. “No Rory its not you. I would love to do anything with you anytime.” He added with a small smile. “It’s just that ... “ he stopped and sighed again.
Rory saw the hurt and pain in his eyes. “It’s ok Tristan you can tell me.”
“Well my birthday doesn’t exactly bring back the best memories for me.” He stopped and looked out the window. * How can I say this to her? Her life has been filled with love while mine has been stark and empty except for one person. Grand. The only one who ever understood me, who ever wanted to know who I was. Everything was fine whenever he was there. Then he was gone and my life fell apart. How can I make her understand? *
Rory felt his sadness. She wanted desperately to pull him into her arms and make his pain go away. She couldn’t explain why he had touched her so deeply. But she saw the inner struggle with in him as he looked straight at her for a moment. Can I trust her? Should I trust her? Should I open myself up? She prayed that the answers would be yes. She wanted to know. She needed to know.
Almost imperceptibly, he nodded his head and then began, “He was my best friend, my grandfather. I would visit him almost everyday. It was a chance for me to get away. Away from my huge empty house, away from my arguing parents, away from the screaming and the crying. He understood me like no one else. He was always there always waiting for me. We would talk about everything and anything or sometimes nothing at all just sitting there enjoying each other’s company in the comfortable silence of the beautiful garden which he tended by hand with my help or in the quiet study where we would be shut off from the world, just us. Every year on my birthday, he would take me on a trip. Just the two of us, for two weeks. We would go around the country and the world. To New York, to Philadelphia, San Francisco, Boston, London, Paris, Rome, Cairo. It didn’t matter much where we went since we were together. Oh the adventures we had. Skiing on the Alps, riding camels across the desert, sitting in the Louver for hours staring at one painting, burning it into memory. His favorite city was Paris. He used to say, ‘Hartford is where I live, but Paris is my home,’ ” Tristan chuckled, lost within himself.
Rory smiled at him. His eyes blazed with memories and with love he had for his grandfather. Rory had never seen him look so relaxed and so happy. As he continued, the light was replaced with pain and sadness.
“Then five years ago everything changed. He was diagnosed with cancer. The doctors gave him only a few months to live but I knew that he was strong and that he would fight. He was still relatively healthy for about six months and then went down hill from there. He grew weaker everyday. I visited him everyday still and we would talk and go on as if nothing had changed. You have no idea how hard it was for me to see him change. He was always the strong one. I would take his strength with me when I left so that I could make it through the day, But then the roles shifted and he was the one drawing his strength from me. About a week before my birthday, he told me that we were going to Paris again. His home. I was excited to be going but knew that this was probably the last time he would ever see his favorite city. He seemed to grow stronger that week. I thought that just the thought of going home made him fight even harder.”
Tristan stopped and took a deep breath; the next part was even harder for him to tell.
“ Then the day before my birthday, he had to go into the hospital. I sat by his side the whole day just talking about all the things we loved most about Paris. When it was time for me to leave, I gave him a hug and said ‘I love you’ and he smiled and said, ‘I’ll be home soon.’ He died the next afternoon with me by his bedside. After he was gone, I was lost. Not only had I lost my grandfather, I had lost my best friend, the one who knew everything about my life and about me. He knew my secrets and my dreams.” Tristan spun the silver band on his middle finger. “He gave this to me for my birthday that year. It had been his father’s and then his. I never take it off. It’s a reminder of him and a reminder that someday I’ll make it back to Paris and I’ll be home too. . . . . “
As the true meaning of his words reached Rory, her eyes went wide and a smile lit up her face as she hugged him. “ You’re going back to France! I’m so happy for you! When do you leave?” she asked pulling back a little.
“Tomorrow.” he replied. As she gazed at him she realized that something was wrong. He did not look happy. His eyes were clouded with sadness.
“What’s wrong? What aren’t you telling me?”
“I may not be coming back.”
“Please tell me your joking,” asked Rory shocked.
“My parents finally decided to stop fighting long enough to actually go out and file for divorce. We’re selling the house because my mom has decided to travel the world and my Dad practically lives in New York with his girlfriend anyway. So when my grandmother goes back to France, I’m going with her.” The words were spoken with almost no emotion, but his eyes told otherwise.
Rory’s eyes burned with tears as all that he was telling her finally sunk in.
“I’m going to miss you,” she whispered as she pulled him into another hug. She was suddenly overcome with new emotions and feelings. Tristin dropped his head onto her shoulder as he held onto her tightly. It felt so good to hold her.
“I’ll miss you too,” he replied pulling back a little to look at her in the eyes. In the clear blue depths he saw joy and sadness warring. He also saw something else that he would never have noticed before. Something so familiar to him. Something that he had only seen in his own reflection.
“Rory I . . . “ started Tristin only to be cut off by the bell. “Goodbye.” He whispered as he untangled himself and ran a hand down her cheek wiping away the tears. And with one more look he was gone.
“Goodbye, Tristin” whispered Rory as she turned and walked the other direction.
* * * * * * * * * * *
Rory went through the day in a daze. What was wrong with her? She should be happy for her friend. He had finally gotten to go back to the only place where he felt right. Why did she suddenly want him to be beside her again? Why did she miss his arms around her? Why did she care so much? She had seen his soul when she looked into his eyes. She saw longing and sadness along with something else that she couldn’t place. It was warm and reached out to her. Something that she couldn’t help but feel pulled to. What was wrong with her? She didn’t care about him. Not in that way. Did she? Then why was this so hard? Why did it hurt so much?
* * * * * * * * * * * *
“Hey Justin!” yelled Rory as she walked into the courtyard. “Could you give me a ride to the Independence Inn?’
“Sure hop in. It’s on my way.”
* * * * * * * * * *
“Don’t you usually get a ride with Du Grey?” asked Justin as they pulled out onto the highway. “I can’t beilev he’s leaving. Talk about coming out of the blue.”
“Yeah,” replied Rory automatically, not really hearing what had been said.
He glanced over at her and taking in her reddened eyes decided to end that subject, “Why the Indy Inn?”
“My mom works there,” replied Roy quietly still staring out the window.
Justin took the hint and didn’t ask any more questions.
* * * * * * * * * * * *
“Mom,” said Rory quietly as she walked into the Inn. The car ride had been spent trying to decide where to go. Her heart told her that she wanted more than friendship and that she should tell him. Her head wouldn’t agree. She was terrified. Terrified of being alone. Terrified of being hurt. Terrified of being loved. “Tristin’s leaving.”
“Leaving where?”
“He’s moving to Paris. Tomorrow.”
“Wow. Fast packer.”
“He’s not coming back.”
“Now I see the problem.”
“What should I do?”
“Say goodbye?”
“That’s not funny,” replied Rory almost at the brink of tears
“Oh I’m sorry honey, you’re really broken up about this.”
“What should I do? I can’t let him just leave without. . . without telling him.” Rory managed to get out.
“Telling him what?”
“You know what,” replied Rory, frustrated.
“You have to say it,”
“That I don’t want him to leave. That . . .that I don’t want to be without him. That I might love him.”
“Go. Now. Take the car.”
“What should I say? What if he doesn’t fell the same? What if he slams the door in my face? What if he goes anyway?”
“Say what’s in your heart. If you don’t go you’ll regret it. And a life of regret is no life at all. Now go..”
“I love you,” said Rory as she pulled her mother into a quick hug before running out the door.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * *
“Tristin, I know were just friends now and I know you said that you don’t like me anymore but I have to tell you that I like you, no love you, and I want to be with you. Ok now all I have to do is ring the door bell,” added Rory as she talked to herself pacing in front of the door. She had been going over what exactly she would say since she left the Inn.
“Ok Rory deep breaths.” And with that she rang the bell...
Part 9-10
Fiction
