Homecoming

By Iain Murray

“Where are we going daddy?” she said, tired of waiting.

“I told you, we just have to make a quick stop first. Then we’ll be there in no time” he said.

She looked at him disapprovingly through tired eyes.

“I promise,” he said with a smile.

She turned to look out the window but wasn’t tall enough to see over the dash. “Why can’t we go in the morning? It’s still dark” she said, rubbing her eyes with her small fists.

“Why don’t you put your head back and close your eyes? Think about what you want to do first at the beach.”

“Build a sand castle,” she said without having to think. She leant her head back and closed her eyes. He brushed her hair from her face with his left hand while he continued to drive and pulled the blanket up near her shoulders. A moment or so later her head drooped ever so slightly to the side. She was asleep.

He glanced at the clock on the dashboard for what felt like the hundredth time. It was late and they would soon notice he was gone. He peered ahead over his white knuckles which gripped the wheel as he pushed his foot flat to the floor. The road was dead straight and even with the high beam on he could see no deviation up ahead. He had imagined this moment countless times but now that it was here it didn’t feel quite real. He felt more like a passenger than a driver, watching a series of events he had no control over.

A series of clear reflectors, evenly spaced from one another, lined the centre of the road. The headlights bounced off them in every direction and they stared back at him with a judgment he was acutely aware of. He wiped a sweaty palm on his trousers before reaching into his pocket and retrieving the only possession he had cared to take with him. He placed the slightly crumpled postcard on his thigh and flattened it with his hand, without taking his eyes from the road. Sometimes it was enough to just hold it, but amongst the heavy shadows and the dim glow of the dash his gaze was soon drawn to it. He dried the same palm yet again and held it up to the dash. The front of the postcard had a picture of a long white beach stretching all the way to the horizon. The water was so blue that if it wasn’t for the ripples it would have been nearly indistinguishable from the sky. It was surrounded by a thin white border and along the bottom it read I in small gold letters. He placed it sitting upright behind the steering wheel and returned his eyes to the road.

He ran his hand along the car door in search of the button to lower the window. He found it as he turned off the main road and began to make his way into a familiar neighbourhood with the bitterly cold wind on his face. He was soon driving down his old street and was travelling at little more than a walking pace as he passed the lawn he used to mow every Sunday. As he pulled the car over a little further down the street his daughter began to stir.

“Are we there yet,” she said, trying to stifle a yawn.

“Not yet, go back to sleep,” he whispered to her. He turned to exit the car but she threw off her blanket and began fiddling with the seatbelt and stretching to see out the window.

“Where are we? What are we doing Daddy?”

“Ssshhhh, we need to be really quiet ok,” he said as he looked up and down the street.

“I want to come with you,” she demanded, even louder.

“You can’t come with me but I’ll be really quick. I promise.” He grabbed the postcard from behind the steering wheel and handed it to her. “I’ll be as quick as I can, just a few minutes. I need you to wait here and be really quiet though. Can you do that? Can you be a big girl?” She begrudgingly nodded and pulled the blanket back over her legs.

“We’ll be there soon,” he said tapping the post card. “I promise.”

He stepped out of the car and looked up and down the road, studying it the same way one might look at an old photograph, familiar yet different at the same time.

The house looked more or less the same. The garden was much fuller than he remembered and there were several new additions in the form of garden gnomes nestled amongst the flower beds. The curtains in the front windows were all drawn and though they looked to be a different colour he couldn’t be sure. Not wanting to be seen he quickly made his way around the side of the house and hurdled the white gate he had painted years earlier before making his way into the backyard. He was surprised to see the cubby house he built for Maddie was still there. Charlotte had never stopped telling him how unsafe it was and he was sure she would have torn it down after he left, if only for the reason that he built it. But Maddie couldn’t have loved it more. The two of them had spent countless afternoons sitting up there. He had even put a blackboard inside on the wall. She loved to draw and paint.

He was now walking on his toes as he made his way to the back door. The doorknob was cold to the touch and though he did not expect it to be unlocked he turned the handle anyway. He knew his former wife well and was certain there would be a spare key hidden nearby. He searched beneath the loose brick along the window next to the back door and was relieved but not particularly surprised when his fingers felt the cool metal of the spare key. He knew Charlotte far better than she gave him credit for. He carefully returned the brick to its rightful place and with one hand on the doorknob and one on the key he turned both and entered the house.

Once inside he moved swiftly and headed straight for the base of the stairs. He knew the third one creaked and so made sure to skip straight to the fourth as he felt his way through the dark more by memory than by touch. After reaching the top he peered to his left down the hallway towards Charlotte’s room to make sure the door was closed. He then turned right and walked on his toes until he got to the room at the opposite end of the hallway. The door was closed and it had a blue plaque that read ‘Maddie’ surrounded by some bubbles and brightly-coloured fish. He wrapped his fingers around the handle and slowly pushed the door ajar just wide enough so he could enter. Once inside he shut the door as quietly as possible and turned around, afraid that his heartbeat would give him away. The room was bathed with a faint tinge of blue from a small night-light in the corner and it took only a moment for him to realise that the room was different to the one in his mind. The small white desk he and Charlotte had bought Maddie for Christmas one year was in the opposite corner from where it had been, and the bed and dresser had traded places. He took several steps forward and his eyes fixed on the small head of hair resting upon a pink pillow. His plan had been to get in and out as quickly as possible but at that very moment he could not bring himself to do it. He simply stood rooted to the spot, watching her sleep while fighting the desire to brush her hair from her face.

His eyes were drawn to a colourful image above the head of Maddie’s bed and as he looked up at it he realised that the room was littered with colourful drawings. Some were of animals, some of cars and faces, but it was the one above her bed that made him smile. It was a crayon drawing of a beach. She had used yellow for the sand and had even added in the ripples of the water with various shades of blue. As he stood, gazing at all the different pictures around the room, he also couldn’t help but notice the framed photos sitting atop the dresser. Two of them were school photos of Maddie in her uniform but it was the third photo which caused his smile to fade. It was a photo of Maddie with her mother and someone he didn’t recognise, a man. He had one hand around Charlotte and one around Maddie. He couldn’t tell where they were but there were balloons in the background. All three of them were smiling but it was Maddie he couldn’t take his eyes off. Even in the dim blue light there was no mistaking her expression. She was happy.

After lingering on the photo for far longer than he intended, he reached into his pocket and retrieved the tattered and crumpled postcard. He stood it up against one of Maddie’s school portraits and turned to look at her one final time. His heart skipped a beat as she half rolled over in her sleep so that her face was no longer obscured by her hair. His gaze rested upon her for no longer than a moment though as the sound of sirens broke out in the distance. He moved swiftly towards the bedroom door and as Maddie remained sound asleep he exited the house as quickly and as quietly as he had entered it.

He returned to the car, not by stepping carefully or by hiding in the shadows, but by running. He swung the driver’s door open as the sound of sirens grew louder. As he turned the ignition he looked in the rear view mirror and could see a light come on in Charlotte’s room, and another in Maddie’s room a moment later. He turned to the empty seat next to him before he sped off down the street.