Our distance and that person
by M. F. Luder
Seth takes a deep breath, feet moving one in front of the other. They feel heavy, leaden, like they know where he's going, and they don't want to go. He wishes he didn't have to go. He wishes there was another way. At the same time, it feels like he can't do anything but.
Earphones in his ears, Ipod in his pocket, Seth mouths the words as he hears them.
All of our friends were here, they all have gone home[1]
He checks his watch. It's five past six, and Seth knows he leaves at six. His parents said so in a conversation a couple of weeks ago, and he had to see for himself.
"He's not good. He's not..."
Seth closes his eyes as he hears his dad's words in his mind once again.
"He's in pain. We shouldn't have let him go."
"We already did, Sandy. It's too late to take it back."
"Don't you miss him? Don't you want him home?"
"More than anything in the world," his mother said. "But Ryan chose this, and as much as it hurts me, as much as I want him back, with us, at home, I can't. And that's even worse."
They might not dare, but he does.
Seth thinks about them being late, about having to work extra hours and maybe this whole thing is as stupid as he thought it was on his way over here. Maybe he should give up, turn around and head back home. Maybe--
People start walking out of the construction site. Grown men, and young men, carrying backpacks and looking worse for the wear, tired on their feet. Their shirts are dirty, with gray splotches here and there, black lines that look like grease, some sleeves not even there.
It doesn't take long for Seth to see him and his breath catches in his throat. Ryan walks out of the site, yellow helmet with gray stains in his right hand. Seth stares at him, not knowing what to do.
His plan was simple. To walk up to him and tell him, ask him, beg him if he must, to return.
"Home isn't in Chino. Home it's with us."
That line had seemed perfect when Seth had first thought about it. Now, it seemed empty and shallow.
Shoving his hands in his pockets, he pauses, tilting his head and looking at Ryan. There are more gray spots in his hair, and his white shirt has no white left, but it's a mixture of gray and black and blue and colors he doesn't think belong in that shirt. His jeans are shredded from what they used to be.
Ryan's eyes are downcast, and Seth can see darkness under them.
That's not Ryan. That man, not a kid anymore but a man, standing there, walking out of work among those other men, with the weight of the world upon his shoulders and a paycheck to earn is not Ryan. Not the Ryan that Seth had known, had hugged and shared a house with, a life with. Not the Ryan he loved, for a year, and then was forced to let go of.
Letting out a shuddering breath, Seth takes a step forward, meaning to go to Ryan, to talk with him.
There has to be a way to change this, to rewind this process, this thing that has happened and converted his friend into someone he doesn't recognize.
The corner of a yellow and battered Mustang catches his eye, and Seth doesn't know how he didn't see it before. Maybe he wasn't looking for it.
Ryan walks to it as Theresa steps out of it. Her hands fall to her stomach naturally, like the six-month pregnant woman she is, and smiles at Ryan. Ryan leans over and places a small kiss on her cheek, never touching her lips.
Seth tells himself it's not vindication he feels inside him.
Ryan touches her belly and takes the driver's seat as she walks to the other side, slowly getting in.
Seth could go there. He could go and talk with him, convince him. He could do it.
Theresa turns around to look at Ryan and she smiles. His lips barely twitch upwards in her direction.
He closes his eyes for a second and when he opens them, Ryan is pulling out of the parking lot, hands grasping the wheel as if not wanting to let go.
I've tried twice before but like this, it just will not last [1]
The song ends, the track changing for a new one, the new chords audible through the earphones. Seth doesn't hear them.
Seth turns around, hands closing into fists in his pockets, and walks to the car.
Things end, change, and move. Ryan did.
Seth must as well.
[1] "Steadier Footing" by Death Cab for Cutie
Finished: April 26th, 2005. 10.29pm