PART TWO OF THREE PARTS:
We had a blast. I didn’t get to hit all the big attractions but I got in enough. Space Mountain was awesome. Doug took me for a ride on the Monorail. I got to see a lot of the park that way.  I ate at every stand we came across. Doug bought me a sweatshirt and baseball cap. For a few hours I forgot who and what I was. Until a couple of hotties walked by and gave me the “L” sign for looser. They about broke their necks checking out Doug, though. I felt real self-conscious for the first time. I got a good look at myself in a window of a shop.  I looked like shit. My hair needed a cut bad. I hate it touching my ears. But the cap hid most of the damage. My face was still pretty bruised and the bandage didn’t help. I was really skinny. All that work in weight training class was history. I could feel my cloths hanging on me, but I hand not a clue how bad. Baggy is my style. Dude, this was not the look. Next to Doug, I felt like the looser they pegged me for. I lost interest in my corn dog and tossed it in the trash.

“Hey, Sport, blow them off. Just look at them. Those kind of girls only go for dollar signs and pretty faces.  Valley girls, not enough brain cells between the two of them to light a one watt bulb.”

For the next few minutes Doug worked to cheer me up. It worked. I was in the happiest place on earth wasn’t I? Around 9:00 he said we had to go. We had to get up early in the morning. I really wanted to stay longer but didn’t push it. After just two days I knew Doug pretty well. He was black and white. Right or wrong not too much gray matter.

I crashed as soon as we left the parking lot. Or that is the last thing I remember until Doug shook me awake. We were at his house.

“Tim, wake up. We're here.“

We were on a high street that sat above the homes. Close-knit condos that lined a hill. Garage on top then steps down to the condo entrance.  Color me impressed. The main door of the house led into the kitchen and that opened up into a huge living room with the biggest windows I have ever seen.
I was right. Doug is a neat freak. It was all glass and chrome and probably not a finger print on anything.  There was a surfboard on one wall, a mountain bike on the other. Lots of pictures of Doug in just about every sport on the planet. Trophies, too. In the far corner was a Smith weight machine. I had asked him why he was so ripped, he looked more like a body builder than an EMT.  He said that being in shape was really important on his job and that his job helped support his habit. Sports. We had a lot in common. We both excel at sports. I am...well, was on the school track team. But I’m really out of shape now. Doug told me that he could give me a weight routine to follow to get me back in shape.

“Sweet! You live here? Dude, sign me up for EMT school!”

He just laughed and patted my back. Then opened the Arcadia door and we walked out onto the deck that overlooked the beach. Just above us was a short balcony for the bedroom.

“Want to go for a walk on the beach?”

“Hell, yeah!”

We walked down the stairs right on to the beach. Now this is what I came out hear for.  Not far from the water we sat down. Doug waved at some other couple walking on the beach.  Lights from all the homes reached out almost that far.

“Don’t anyone have curtains?”

I could see right into the living rooms of the other homes.

“Dude, from your living room you could read the paper the guy next door has. Most close the blinds at night. You’ll see.”

We just sat there for a long while not talking. I wasn’t feeling real chatty. I just felt odd.

“Tim? You okay. Did you eat too much junk?

 “No. Just quiet.”

“Thinking about tomorrow?”

“I guess.”

“Did you have a good time tonight?”

I did. It would be, just as I’m leaving that what I wanted to find showed up.  “Yeah. That was great. Thanks. It was something I had planned on when I came out here.”

“You make it sound like you moved out here. And we both know better.”

“I know. I know.”

I laid back on the sand and looked up at the stars. I wondered what dad was doing right now. Sleeping probably.

“How did you get out here?”

There was no way in hell I was going to tell Doug that I hitchhiked from Vegas out here. Something told me very clearly, that my butt would be in mortal danger if I did.

“I took took a bus.”

It was not a total lie. I did. But only as far as Las Vegas. I made sure to look at the water. You would think that being a teenager, I would be a better liar. I suck at it.

“Must have been a long ride.”

“No. Not really.”

It wasn’t. But I got the feeling that he knew I was holding back. Lucky for me he didn’t push it.  He asked some more questions about home. Where was my school, where was our lumberyard, how far from town was my house. I got more homesick by the minute.

“Have you thought about what you're going to do when you get home?”

“What do you mean?”

“I know your dad will be so relieved to have you back home, but how will you deal with the last three or almost three months? How do you think your dad will react? I have no doubt that he will be happy your home safe and sound.”

I hadn’t really thought of that. I don’t know what dad will do. Doug is probably right about dad being glad I’m home. I will be, too.

“I don’t know. Maybe ground me or something.”

“How do you feel about that, Tim?”

What’s he taking about.  “What is this? I thought you are an EMT. Not a shrink?”

“I’m just asking how you feel. I think I know why you and your dad fight so much. I did the same with my dad.“

I could sure use some pointers on how to handle going home.

“You are flexing your wings. A little too much. You're testing your will against your dads. All kids do at one point. Test the boundaries. Look, I know you have heard all this before. Teenage years are the best and the worst. You're not a little kid but you're not a man either. You're awash in hormones and attitude. You need someone to keep you in check.  Dad and I had some real problems for a while."

“Yeah? You get along now?”

“We're bud’s. We go fishing and skiing. I see him and Mom almost every weekend.
Don’t get me wrong. He’s still my dad and he lets me know it every now and then.”
 
Oh, this I have got to hear.   “How?”

“I get knocked down a peg or two when I forget he’s my dad and get mouthy. Mom really   get’s on me about my language. Something you had better watch and soon.  Last year I wrecked my car.... "

“What kind?”

“It was a ‘98 Eclipse. Hot little ride. It was my baby. Well I worked a really late shift. I was too tired to drive and I really should have stayed at my buddies. But no I thought I could make it.  I dosed off and ran off the road.”

“Oh, Dude, that sucks. Did you total the car?”

“Completely. All I have left is the stuff out of it and the emblem and my plates. That’s it.”

I’d have cried if that had been me. To total such a cool car.

“I just had some bruised ribs and face. Those air bags really pack a punch. Dad met me at the hospital and took me home for a few days. Days of hell. I got more lectures on my stupidity than I can remember. He was right and he let me know it.”

I can relate.  “Sounds like my dad.”

“Your dad is right. You're just too young and stubborn to admit it. I’ve been right where you are, Tim. I have a pretty good idea of what you're thinking and feeling. I think I recognized that when I fished you out that night. You looked like a runaway more than a kid without a home."

I didn’t say anything right away. I really doubt that he knows what I’m feeling when I don’t.

“I ran away once, too. I think most kids have at one point."

“Doug, I doubt that taking off around the block count’s.”

He took a playful swipe at me but I was able to duck fast enough.

“Smart ass!  I ran off to San Diego. Not alone, I left with a group of friends. But I still just ran off with just a note saying I had run away. I was gone a week. I was miserable. I knew I had to go home and face them. So I did.”

I bet he got his ass beat. Must be where he gets the idea I need one.

“What happened?”
 
“Nothing.”

“What do you mean nothing?”
 
“Just that. Not a thing. They were so happy just to have me home safe that I didn’t even get grounded.”

I find that hard to believe.  “Cool.”

“No. Not cool. Everything was uncool. Mom and dad were angry with me but were afraid to do anything about it. Worried I’d run off again.  I got away with murder for days after. I came in late. Skipped school…whatever. It was bizarre. There was a lot of tension. I don’t think any of us slept much. See the balance of power had shifted.  I had too much and they had not enough. I know it sounds like a perfect arrangement but it wasn’t. It wasn’t  *home*.  I couldn’t take it anymore. I had a talk one night with dad and we hashed it out.”

I was afraid to ask. I a strong feeling about what got hashed out.

“What did you do? Just ask him to beat your ass?”

Doug just chuckled and shook his head.   “No, not exactly. Dad’s the one that mentioned the power balance stuff and what he thought we should do to correct that balance.”

“Dude, he snowed you.”

“No, Tim. He let me think it over and decide what I would do if I was the dad.”
 
“Let me guess. You’d punish the kid.”

“Yep. And I said I would.  Dad didn’t disappoint. I got the worst spankings of my life.”

I had a hard time imagining Doug as a kid let alone getting spanked. Did he say spanking*s*?

“Spanking*s*. You got more than one?”

“Oooooh yeah! I got the wooden spoon from Mom and the belt right after from dad. All   bare-assed. And before you ask, I was older than you are. I was 17.”

I was stunned. Seventeen was a little old to be getting a spanking. And I said as much.

“Maybe nowadays some parents think so. But back in the day, dad didn’t think so. I got   it right up to my 21st birthday. I’m not saying this is what you should do when you get   home. I just wanted you to know that I do understand what it’s like. We have all been there.  Even your dad. Okay?”

I seriously doubted that. He didn’t try to rob anyone. He didn’t take his dad’s car for a joyride without a license and then run ‘cause he got busted. Well he did run away. It just wasn’t the same thing.

“Okay.”

Doug got up and gave me a hand up. We walked back to the house. He pulled the blinds shut on the ceiling to floor windows.  He led me to a small bedroom. It was the first real bed I had would sleep in since I left Nevada. He gave me a pair of boxer-type shorts. Best of all he pointed me to the shower. I must have stayed in there for almost 45 minutes.

“Hey, Sport! Save some hot water for me.”

“Okay! Sorry.”

He said I had nothing to be sorry about.   I got out quickly. It felt so good to be clean. I tried to keep showered at the beach when I could. My hair was really out of control. I bet
dad takes me in right away. That and some new clothes. Oh man! I’ve missed the first two months of school. Can we say  “summer school?” Well I’m not going to dwell on that too much just now.

Doug went upstairs to his own bathroom. He said he has my clothes in the wash and asked if I’d put them in the dryer. No problem. I can’t wait to have clean clothes again. Maybe the dryer will help with the fit.

“How’s the shower, kid? Felt good I bet.”

“It was great. Thanks. <yawn> “ I’m getting sleepy. It’s been a long day.

“Okay, sleepy head. Why don’t you try out that bed. Let’s go.”

Doug led me to the spare room. He hung out in the doorway while I hopped in. I melted right into the mattress. And I thought the bunk on the boat felt good.

“How is it?”
“Heaven.”

I had my eyes closed before he turned out the light.

“Night, Tim, see you in the morning.”

“Night, Doug, thanks for Disney.”

“Any time.”

I heard him climb the stairs. I think he made a call. I could hear his voice. Must be checking in with work or his parents or something. Pretty late for a call.
I didn’t worry about it for long. Other thoughts kept me busy. Like what he said about the balance between me and dad. It took me forever to get to sleep. I was all over the place. One minute I wanted to beat it out of there. The next I wanted to call home.  I just couldn’t turn it off.

It must have been around 3 am that I finally got to sleep. Two minutes later Doug was waking me up. It felt like only two minutes.  “Let’s go, Tim! Up and at’em. Let’s bust a move.”

God, I hate cheery morning people. He laid my clean clothes on the bed and left.  After I got dressed I walked into the kitchen. My new sweatshirt and cap were on the counter. Well I’m dressed now so I will just pack the shirt. Doug was packing a cooler. He had a bag by the door already along with his medical kit. The blinds were pulled open too. Just a hint of light was cresting from the East.

“Dude! The sun isn’t even fucking up yet.”

<SMACK> “OUUUCH! Hey!”

Doug smacked my ass as I walked behind him to the fridge. Shit that stung.

“Better keep it clean. Hear?”

I couldn’t help but rub out the sting. But I told him I heard him. I don’t want any more of that shit. He didn’t say I couldn’t think it.

<SMACK> “OUUUCH. Cuttitout Doug!”

“That was for thinking it. <chuckle>”

“What time is it anyway?”

“It’s a balmy 60 degrees and 5 am here in sunny L.A.” Doug said in a really bad imitation of a radio morning host.

“Doug, don’t quit your day job.”

Doug made us a quick breakfast of fruit and toast.

“Want some coffee, Tim?”

Yuck! I hated the stuff. I just shook my head no.

“Timmy’s not a morning person, is he?”

“It’s not morning yet, Dougie,” I said as I laid my head down on the breakfast bar. Doug lifted my head and took a look at me.

“You don’t look so hot, kiddo. You got some major bags under the eyes. You feel okay?”

“I’m fine. Couldn’t sleep that’s all.”

“When was the last time you got some good sleep, Tim?”

“I don’t know. I’m okay.”

Doug dropped it. And I’m glad. He sent me into the bathroom to brush my teeth with the toothbrush he gave me last night and to doctor my face again.

“Couple more days and you can leave it un-bandaged.”

After a quick kitchen detail we were loading up the Bronco and heading down the road. I was asleep before we hit the freeway.  We didn’t stop for lunch. Doug had packed us all kinds of food and drinks so we ate on the road. He stopped only for gas and nature calls.  We listened to music and talked a lot. Mostly about my town, friends, things I like to do.  Doug and I had a lot in common with sports. We both loved to swim, roller blade, ski. He and I even like the same music. Doug’s cool. Just a bit bossy and sometimes short fused. I’m going to miss him. Maybe he’ll let me e-mail he or something.  I napped a lot. Doug wouldn’t let me drive so there wasn’t a lot to do anyway. It was getting late when we started getting close to home. I got real uptight. I almost felt sick to my stomach.

“Tim, you okay?”

“Uh huh.”

“You’re being quiet. Nervous?”

I couldn’t help it. I had to choke back tears.  <Cough> “Yeah, I’m nervous.”

He reached over and gripped my shoulder.

“It will be okay. You’ll see. I’ll tell you what. I’ll check in the hotel first and then I’ll take you home, deal?  Or do you want to go home first?”
 

“Hotel?”

“Yeah. Last night I called and made a reservation for a couple days.”

A couple days…I had thought that he would just drop me off and then go home. I guess hadn’t though about that much.

“Oh.”

“I want to make sure you get settled in at home okay. Your dad may want to meet the   person who brought you home. I know I would if I was him.”

I hadn’t thought of that either. Dad would probably want to meet Doug and thank him or something.   The closer we got to town I got more moody and jumpy. Just after we crossed the city limits sign I got sick.

“Doug! Doug! Pull over. Please.”

He got the Bronco on the shoulder fast. I got out and ran a short distance away and puked my guts out. It was pitch black out and I was glad that Doug or anyone else passing couldn’t see me.  I could hear him digging around the back of the Bronco. I didn’t pay too much attention. Mine was on something else. I puked until I had
nothing left but dry heaves. He was next to me with a wet towel.

“Okay, Tim, try to relax and take deep breaths.”

Easy for him to say.

“Here, try to drink some water. It’s better if something comes back up.”

He handed me some bottled water. I swished out my mouth. I drank some slowly.  After maybe 15 minutes I was feeling better.

“Better sport? Good. Let’s get back to the truck.”

Doug put his arm around me and led me back. He even buckled me in like a kid. He got in the driver’s side and put his own back on. We sat there a little while.

“Tim, it will be all right.  You’re making yourself sick over nothing.”

“Yeah! What do you know about it?” I snapped. I didn’t mean to.

“Sorry, Doug, I didn’t mean that.”

“Look. You’re going home. Home, Tim, to everything you know. Friends and school, and your Dad.”

I just looked out the window. I know all this. I just feel uptight.

<sigh> “Okay, Tim. What is the worst thing that can happen? Do you think your Dad will tell you to get lost or some thing?”

I didn’t really know. I had a hard time thinking of Dad writing me off.

“If that’s the case, Tim, you will be in no worst shape than you are now. Right?

“I guess.”

Then Doug surprised me. Totally.

“Well, *if* he does and I think that is a huge if. You’ll come back with me. Deal?”

I was floored. Not too many people would offer that to a kid they just met.

“Really?”

“Yes, really. But I seriously doubt your dad will kick you out. Auht!... before you say what   your about to say. He didn’t the first time. Not really. And you know it.“

I did know it. I felt a little better knowing there was a fall back plan.
 
“Ready to go home now?”

“Yeah.”

Doug drove us through town. It was late and the streets were quiet. It was around midnight. I slouched down in the seat. As late as it was I still didn’t want to take a chance and be recognized.  We pulled up to the Hotel.

“Well, what will it be? Home first?”

“No..no. ah.. I’ll wait here and you can go check in. Okay?”

“Fine. I’ll be right back.”

He got out. He was gone only a short time. He came back with his room key.
I directed him through town. The closer we got to the outskirts of town the more I wanted to delay.

“Doug. It’s pretty late.. ah could I?”

“Don’t even think it, Tim. It is late but I don’t think your dad will mind that much.”

We just turned off the main highway and onto the road home. I pointed out some of the buildings we passed. My School, my favorite restaurant and there up ahead was our lumberyard.  Doug slowed down by the yard to take a look. I saw dad’s pickup out front. Strange. I looked at the main building and all the lights were off, all but his office light. Dad was here.

“Doug, turn off your lights and stop.”
 
He did without asking me why.   “Is that your Dad’s truck?”

“Yeah, it is. And he’s here.”

I sat there a long while. I felt sick again. In just a few minuets I was going to see Dad for the first time in three months. I was scared.

“Tim? What do you want to do?”
 
Right now go back to the streets. Well not really. Just not do this.  “I guess just drop me off here, Doug.”

“You sure?”

“No.”

Doug chuckled at me and tapped me on the shoulder.  “Tim, everything will be fine. You’ll see. If he does get upset with you, you need to remember that the man has a right. You’ve been gone for months with no contact.  You have my room number so you know were I can be reached. Here is my home number and address with my e-mail also.”
 
He stuck his hand out. I don’t know what came over me but I gave him a hug.

“Thanks, Doug. Thanks for everything. Disney was the bomb.”

He crushed me back in his huge arms.

“You’re welcome, Tim McKay.”

I got out and walked around to his side of the truck. He rolled down his window.
“Call me at the hotel tomorrow if you can. If I don’t hear from, you I will call you.    Okay? Good. Now go see your dad. Good luck, Sport. Be good.  See-ya.”

“See-ya Doug.”

He drove off. Pretty trusting of him. I could have taken off. Both of us knew I wouldn’t. I went to the main door. As usual it was unlocked. There were no valuables in the office building and it was pretty much common knowledge.  I walked real slow and quiet up to the next floor were his office is. I could hear my heart pound. I didn’t know what I would do or say when I saw him. What would he do? I came around the last corner of the hallway that led to his office. It was pitch black in the building except for the emergency lights that stayed on all the time. His door was open and he had the TV on. I could hear the late news. I had to stop and relax my breathing.

“Get it together, McKay.”

I walked up to the side of the doorway and peeked in. I was not ready for what I saw.
Dad was sitting at his desk chair. The news was on, but he wasn’t watching it. He had a beer in his hand and the frame of last year’s school picture in the other. Dad never drank at the office. He hardly ever drank at all. His office was a mess. I’d have been hauled over the coals, if my room ever looked this bad. I could only see his profile. He looked like shit. His face was kind of drawn in. Like he hadn’t slept much either and he had a shadow on his jaw more than a couple days old. He looked like he was the runaway.  I don’t know what I thought he’d do while I was gone. But I didn't think he would be so depressed.  It was hard to breath, looking at him.  Dad really missed me. Like I had been missing him. Once again Doug was right. Fucking irritating. I walked into the doorway a little. Quietly, softly, almost a whisper, ”Dad?”

He looked up. Then he put his head down and slowly looked back up. Like he couldn't believe what he saw. He put his beer and the frame down.

“Tim?”

I just tried to smile. I failed. The look on his face, I had never seen that look before. On him or anyone. Pain, joy, fear, disbelief, wonder all in one statement.

“Timmy?”

“Hi, Dad.”

He got out of his chair and walked over to me. I almost backed up. He looked real...strange. Freaked me out a little. He reached out and touched my cheek, softly, gently like he was afraid that I would disappear. I was a little afraid myself. I had never seen dad like this, unsure and almost desperate.  When it dawned on him that I was real and really here he grabbed me in a bear hug that rivaled Doug’s.
“God...God... Timothy...Timothy.”
 
He pulled me back to look at me and then hugged me some more.

“Thank God..thank God. My boy…my Timmy.”

It was horrible. I could feel the sobs racking his chest. I have never seen dad or any grown man cry. I’m sure he did when my Grandparents died, but I was too little to remember. I was beginning to lose it myself.

“You’re home, you’re safe, I have been so..<choke>”

He would pull me back, take a look, even shake me a little and then kept hugging me and even kissing me. When he got control of his emotions he pulled me in the office and closer to the light.
 
“Let me get a good look at my boy. “

He blew out a whistle.

“My God, Timothy, you look like hell. Look at you. You’re so skinny. Your hair! Your face. God what happened to you? Are you all right? Let’s go to emergency! Damn you’re a sight for sore eyes. I’ve missed you so much, Tim. I have been so worried.”

I tugged out of his arms.  “No, Dad. I’m fine. Really I am. You don’t look so food yourself. I missed you too, Dad. I’m .. I .   uh.”

Dad just hugged me some more and I hugged back. I could feel that he had lost some weight. He was all hard muscle now. A little more ribby than before.  We stood there for awhile. Just looking at each other. It was awkward. Dad then took over.

“Hungry, son?”

“No.”

I was half expecting him to jump me for not answering correctly. It was always “no dad or no sir” never just a yes or no. But he didn’t say anything.

“Could we just go home?” I could feel my chin quiver when I asked.

“Hell, yes we can just go home!”

Dad and I locked up the office and the main building. I climbed into the truck. We didn’t say much on the way home. Dad did most of the talking. Stuff like he couldn’t believe I was home and how much he missed me. I mostly just looked out the window. It felt odd, unreal. When we got to the house I saw that the car was gone.

“Dad? Where’s the car?”

Dad got real quiet and kind of tight.  “I sold it.”

“Sold it! Why? You loved that car. We both did.”

We walked into the kitchen and I touched his arm.

“Dad? Why did you sell the car?”

He turned around towards me, his face was sad.  “I couldn’t stand to look at it any more.”

I didn’t understand. He loved that car. I remember going with him to the lot to pick it out. It was the first brand new car he ever had. I followed him into the living room. He gave a big sigh as he sat in his chair. I sat on the sofa. I just looked at him waiting for him to explain.

“After a month of looking for you. I looked everywhere, the cops looked everywhere,   Timothy. I could no longer stand to look at it.”

I got it now.  “Because of me? You sold it because I ran off?”

“Tim, I thought I had lost my only child. My son, over that car.”

I hung my head. I felt really bad. I didn’t know what to say or think.

“Timothy, I am so sorry for slapping you. I don’t know why I did that. I have been so    worried about you.”

This felt wrong.  “Dad. Please. Don’t okay. I was out of line I know that. I shouldn’t have said what I did. I was wrong to take the car. Okay?”

“Okay, Timmy, Okay. We’ll talk about this later. You must be tired. I know I am.”

I was. I felt very tired.  “I’m beat, Dad. I sure could handle sleeping in my own bed.”

Dad led the way to my room. Nothing was different. It was just as I left it. Only the window was closed. Dad sat on the bed while I got out of my clothes. I should have remembered my bruises.  His cussing did that for me. I quickly dropped my shirt back over my body. Too late.

Dad got up and almost yanked it off of me. I felt self-conscious standing there knowing how bad it looked. I closed my eyes and braced myself for the tons of questions that he was going to ask, but he never did. Instead he was just quiet. I opened my eyes and just watched him as he looked me over. He had an angry look on his face. I could see him  clench and unclench his jaw.

“It’s all right, Dad. Just bruised. I’ve had worst from sports.”

The look he gave me said he didn’t believe that.  But he never asked me a thing.  I felt like asking him who he was. This was not the Dad I knew. Dad took the clothes from me as I undressed. He held them like they were toxic. Can’t say I blame him, I have been wearing them for three months.

“You want me to burn these?” I laughed . He looked so goofy, holding my clothes that way and making a face.

“Sure. Just not the jacket.”

“Why not? I’ll buy you another one. Happily.”

“Okay, dad, <laughing> Okay.”

He was looking at me funny again.

“What?”

“I love the sound of your laughter. I have missed it.”

“Aw, Dad! ‘C mon.”

He ruffled my hair and handed me my drawstring flannel pants that I like to sleep in.  “Into bed, Tiger.”

I climbed into my own bed. It felt wonderful. I looked around at all my stuff. I missed home more than I thought. Dad leaned over me and gave me a hug. I hugged him back and gave him a kiss on the cheek, something I haven’t done since I was little. Just felt right. Dad tucked me in good and tight. Like he was afraid that if he didn’t, I’d vanish.

“Ah...Dad..Dad too tight. I can’t breathe.”

I was teasing. But I was bound tight by the sheets.

“Oh, sorry, Timmy. Here that better.”

It was. Dad turned off the light and sat down on the chair across from the bed.

“Mind if I stay till you drift off?”

I didn’t. I shook my head no and curled up. I woke up a couple times. Dad was there the first time, but gone the second time. He looked like he needed the sleep as much as I did. I drifted back to sleep. I was home but it didn’t feel quite right. Morning came quickly it seemed. The sun was bright in my face. I was a little surprised to find myself in my room. It took me a minute to remember that I had come home. I looked at my clock.10:00 am. I got up and after a trip to the bathroom went downstairs. I found dad in
the kitchen reading the paper. He must have decided not to go to work. That was a first.
He got up and gave me a big hug. He looked a little better. Not so worn.

“Morning, Tiger.”

I sat down at the table. I felt a little irritable. Not sure why. I’ve never been a morning person. I had to all but be dragged out of bed.  “Hey.” I grumbled.

“I see some things haven’t changed,” he said cheerily.

“Want some breakfast?”

I wasn’t hungry.  “No...thanks.”

I saw him pause, then go back to digging in the fridge.  “I don’t suppose you want to join me for a run?”

I just shook my head no. Damn one more thing I would have to catch up on. Dad and I used to go for a mile every morning. I was so out of shape now.

“Sorry, Tim. I don’t guess you did much jogging did you?”

“No, not exactly.”

But I have done nothing but run since I ran away. Dad put a plate of toast and a glass of milk in front of me.

“I said I’m not hungry.”

I didn’t mean to snap at him. I was just tense. I knew sooner or later we would get into the subject of my running away.  Dad just sat there. I looked at him. I expected him to jump me for the attitude. For a minute it looked like he was then he just took a breath
and took the plate back.  Who was this man? My ol’man would have reemed me a new one for that.

“Okay, Tim. But you need to eat. God you’re thin.”

I reached and took the milk.  “Okay, Dad.”

Dad read the paper while I nursed my milk.  I got up to get another glass. When I opened the fridge I was amazed at how empty it was. Just some milk, a few eggs and a left over pizza. Most of the slices still there all dried up, and a few beers as well.
This fridge was never this empty. Not with our appetites. I looked back at dad. A wave of something washed over me. I know exactly what it was too. Guilt. I walked into the living room without refilling my glass. I flopped down on the couch. I didn’t know what I’d find when I went home.  Never in my imagination did I think I’d find this. Dad almost half the man he was, the car sold, him almost unsure of how to even talk to me. Fresh guilt flooded my mind. I must becoming a wuss, I felt so close to tears again.
Dad came in and sat down by me.
 
“What’s wrong, Timmy?”

Timmy… dad had called me that a few times now. He hardly ever called me that since I turned 13 or 14. He always just called me Tim, Tiger, my nick name, or Timothy.”

“Just tired, Dad, that’s all.”

I lied. I hoped he wouldn’t call me on it. He didn’t.

“Why don’t you got back to bed for awhile. I need to call the sheriff.”

That got my complete attention.  “What? Why?”

“Relax, Tiger. I need to let Sheriff Peterson know you’re home. They have been looking for you, too. Go on back to bed.”

I did. Doug and I talked about whether or not the guy I tried to rob would have called the cops. He didn’t think so. Not with the dude picking up a kid under-aged. I laid back down in bed. A few minutes later I heard the door and looked out the window. Dad was stretching. I guess he felt like taking a run. I watched him take off. Flopping back down I laid there. I couldn’t relax much. I picked up the phone and called the hotel.

“Room 115, please.”

“Hello.” Doug’s big voice came over the phone.

“Hey, Doug, it’s Tim.”

“Hey yourself, Sport. So. How did it go last night?”

I gave him a quick rundown of last night.

“That’s great, Tim. You don’t sound real happy about it though.”

“I’m just tired.”

I told him that dad called the sheriff. Again he said that I didn’t have anything to worry about. We talked a little about the places I thought he should check out while he was here. Where he could get a healthy meal. Doug was not into junk food. We hung up when I saw dad coming back down the drive, right behind him Sheriff Peterson’S car. I got up and when back down stairs. I met them both as they came in the door.

“Welcome home, son.”

I shook Bob Peterson’s hand. I had known him most of my life.

“Glad you’re home safe and well, pretty much sound, from the looks of you.”

“I’m okay.”

“You gave us quite a worry, Tim.”

He looked at me sternly. I could see that I was in for a predicable Sheriff Peterson lecture.”  He didn’t let me down. I got an earful of the dangers of running away, how it solved nothing. Yadda Yadda Yadda. He asked a few questions. Like where did I run off to. I was a little hesitant to say. I didn’t know the reaction I’d get from dad.

“Timothy, answer the Sheriff.”  Dad prodded.

“L.A.”

Dad just sat down on a kitchen stool, like his legs wouldn’t hold him any longer.
Sheriff Peterson just looked a little uncomfortable, and quickly asked a few other questions. Nothing major. He just needed to know that I hadn’t been abused or anything, I guess. He asked how I got home. I told him about Doug driving me. I gave him Doug’s room number.

“Okay, Tim, I think that is all. Glad your home safe. “

“Thanks.”

Dad walked him to the door. I could here them talking outside.

“Well, Allen I think I have all that I need for my reports. I’ll go talk to Mr. Wolf.  If you don’t mind me saying so, if I were you, Allen, I’d blister his ass good for all the worry he put you through.”

My stomach got tight as I waited for dad to say that was the plan or something like that. He just shook hands and closed the door.  Most of the day we just hung out at the house. Dad ordered a couple pizzas, one for lunch and one for dinner. He didn’t bring up anything about my little vacation.  It was like I had just got back from camp or something. It is too bizarre. Dad had to go to the office to make arrangements for the next few days. He said he was going to take some time off from the yard to spend at home.  I played on my computer for awhile. Downloaded some new MP3’s and read over 200 hundred e-mails from friends. I didn’t answer any. I’m not ready to let anyone know I’m home just yet. I’ll have to send a blanket letter. Dad left my room just as I left it---trashed. So I
cleaned it up and made my bed. I called Doug again. He’s having fun checking out the area.

I’m feeling really restless. Caged almost.  Enough that I even did the dishes and vacuumed the living room. Blew dad away. He was shocked that I even knew how to operate the vacuum. He’s a funny guy.  For the most part of the day I was okay with Dad being so cool about everything. Who wouldn’t be.  Now it’s getting a little weird.  Looks like Dad, talks like Dad, but it ain't the man I know as Dad. I thought I would get grounded at the least. Doug was surprised a little, too. I keep thinking about the story he told me about when he ran away.

Maybe tomorrow things will be better. I have only been home for a day.  After dad got back from the lumberyard. He was shocked that I cleaned my room.  We put in a movie and just watched it and ate more pizza.  It feels...I don’t really know what if feels like.  Before we would really get into a movie. Now we are like strangers. This sucks. More than that, it hurts.

“Dad?”

“Ummm.”

I don’t know what I was about to say. I’m bugg’n.  “Nothing. I think I’m going to go to bed. I’m wiped.”

“Okay, son. I’ll be up soon.”

“Night.”

Dad came up later and checked on me. He brought up some water for me.

“Hey, Tiger. Ready for lights out?”

“Yeah, Dad. Thanks for the water.”

Dad just messed up my hair and gave me a hug.  “Uhm, I think sometime tomorrow we’ll see about a haircut.“

“Cool with me.“

I must have woke up a dozen times. I just can’t seem to sleep much. I got up and went downstairs to get something to eat. I opened the fridge and immediately wished I had stayed in bed. Dad must have lived on beer and eggs the whole time.

“Tim?”

Daaaamn! I about jumped out of my skin.

“Sorry, son. I didn’t mean to startle you.”

Startle? I almost messed my self.  “S’alright, Dad.”

“What are you doing up?”

I didn’t want to tell him I was having problems sleeping. He’s been pushy about going to the Doctor. I fucking hate them. I can’t remember ever going without having to drop my shorts.  Last time Dad and a nurse had to hold me down for a shot. I freak over those damn needles. Not real thrilled with the bend and cough shit either.

“I guess I was still hungry.”

“Sorry, kid. We don’t have much.”

Didn’t I know it.   “No biggie.”

Dad came over and hugged me. He does that a lot now. I don’t really mind. As long as he isn’t going to do it at the mall or at school.

“Let’s get you back to bed then. You still look like the walking dead.”

“Brutal, dad.”

I laughed and let him push me back to my room. I got tucked in again.

“What if I have to take a leak?”

He had me bound tightly with the sheets again.

“You’ll exercise bladder control.”

Funny man.  He left and I was trapped wide awake in my bed. I had just gone to sleep when the sun beamed right into my eyes.

“RRRR I gotta move my bed.” I burrowed deeper in the sheets.

“You up, Tiger?”

“Umpfh.”

Chuckling.  “My son, the vampire. I’m taking a run. I won’t ask if you want to go. You might want to get up. You‘ll have problems getting to sleep tonight.”

He had no idea. I heard the front door close and I got up. Staying in my room for a bit I dug out some old sweats and T-shirt. Most of my clothes are just too sloppy to wear. So I might as well be comfy.  I feel lousy. I think I might be coming down with something. I have no energy and can’t shake loose the bad mood I woke up in. Dad has made some coffee. I can smell it as I walk downstairs. It stinks. I can’t stand the stuff. Scrounging around in the cupboard I find a can of Nestle’s Quick. Cool. One jumbo class of chocolate milk coming up. I take the blender out and pour the rest of the milk in it and add the powder. I stuck a straw from the drawer in it and poof instant breakfast.

“Oh that’s healthy.” Dad must have came in while the blender was going.

“It’s good. Want some?”

He just shakes his head.  Filling a glass with water he sat down across from me. I feel uncomfortable with him staring at me like that.

“What? Do I have a chocolate mustache or something?”

Dad just leaned on his arms closer to me.  “I think it’s time to talk, Timothy.”

Uh oh. Here it comes.

“Why did your run away, Timothy?”

I just shrugged my shoulders. I didn’t really have an answer. Dad didn’t push it. So not like him.

“At least tell me why you went to Los Angeles.”

I told the truth. As hurtful as it was.  “I wanted to get as far away as I could. That was as far as I got.”

Dad looked away. I could see that hurt him. I guess I had wanted to, then. I feel really bad. Dad looks like he is about to cry. I’m scum. He cleared his throat a few times.

“So tell me about this Doug.”
 

I told dad the whole story about how we met and some of what happened on the boat. Him taking me to Disney and driving me home. I left out the parts about Doug smacking me and my robbery attempt.

“Was it so bad here, Tim?  Why, Tim?”

“I don’t know. Really. I just wanted out. I was tired of always being in trouble. “

“You were always in trouble because you put yourself there.”

That sounded more like my Dad. He got up and opened the fridge.

“Sorry, Tim. It’s Mother Hubbard here. We’ll go shopping later okay.”

I didn’t really feel like going out. I didn’t even want to call any of my friends.

“Whatever.”

He hates those answers, but he didn’t say anything. What’s wrong with him?  He made us some fried eggs and toast. After he cleared the table he sat back down with me.

“Want to tell me how you got all the way to Los Angeles?”

“No.” Well I didn’t. I don’t know why I’m being such a shit.

Dad just looked at me. I could see him try to decide how to react to that. I got up to leave the room.

“I don’t want to talk about this shit any more.”

I couldn’t believe I just said that. I have only cussed a few times in front Dad. Man, did I pay for it, too.

“Timothy Andrew McKay! Sit back down!”  I did. I slumped back in the chair Dad didn’t say anything for a while. He just sat there looking at me.

“I don’t know why you’re acting like this, son, but I think after three months, I deserve some answers don’t you?”

I know he did. He deserved more than that. A better son for starters.

“Okay, dad.”

“What was it like for you out there?”

I looked out the kitchen window a long time before I answered

“It was bad. Not what I thought. I don’t know what I thought I’d find out there.  Lots of really whacked out people. Blondes everywhere, lots of tan people. But it was no   Baywatch. I got mugged my first week there. Down hill after that. Well until Doug    anyway.”

Before Dad could say anything. I surprised us both.  “I couldn’t make it on my own. I was totally lost.“

I looked him straight in the eyes.  “I though I was such a big man that night, Dad. I thought I could make it on my own. That I didn’t need any adult or anyone.  I was
wrong. I couldn’t. I was cold and hungry most of the time, scared and homesick all of the time. I’m sorry, dad. Really.”

Dad reached over and squeezed my arm.

“Admitting you are wrong is a step in the right direction.“

It didn’t help. I still felt bad. Sick inside and moody. I was sure dad was going to blast me. Stuff like “I told you so” “What the hell were you thinking” That kind of stuff.

“How did you get out there?”

I’m not sure how to start. Dad is acting so strange and what he wants to know would normally get me killed. Hell, running away alone was bad enough but the rest would be cause for a funeral.

<sigh> “I took the bus.”

I tried the same tactic I used with Doug. It didn’t have the same results.  Dad has 15 years experience on him.

“Timothy, You’re not telling me the truth or the whole truth. I know you didn’t have enough money to get all the way out there on the bus.”

"I did take the bus. ... As far as Vegas.”

“And from there?”

I scooted around in my chair and then sat up.  “I..um. I hitchhiked.”

That did it. For the first time since I got home, Dad got upset.  “Damnit, Timothy! You know better than that.  I damn well know I warned you enough. You could have been....across the desert.....someone could have..”

I exploded. All the tension broke loose. “ I know! I know! Okay? I know it was fucking stupid. I was stupid to run away! I was stupid to hitchhike, It was stupid to pimp myself.”
 
It was really stupid to run off at the mouth. Dad just sat there with a shocked look on his face.   “What did you just say?”

“It was stupid to hitchhike?”

“No the other and you know what I mean?”

I didn’t know how to answer. I didn’t really pimp myself. Not like he’s thinking.

 “Timothy!” He snapped.

“Dad its not what you think.”

“Enlighten me.”

He crossed his arms and glared at me. Diving in I told him about how hungry I was, and that I came up with this idea. I didn’t look at him while I told him how I tried to rob that guy and how I got beat up. He sat there a while. Real quiet. The only sounds were our breathing, the clock in the hall and the birds outside. No way could I look up at him. I’m too afraid of what I will see. I almost wish he’d yell or hit me or anything but just sit there.

“So you would rather beat someone up than call home?"

“Damnit! I-DID-NOT-BEAT-HIM-UP!!!!!! I wasn't going to either!" I was yelling back at Dad.

.“You better tone it down, son,”

I took a moment. Calming down I mumbled, “I was just going to steal some money.”

Shit. Each time I said that, it just sounded worse than the last time.

“JUST steal some money?  Why, Timothy? Why didn’t you just call home? Call me?”

I told him that I thought I had burnt my bridge back home.

“I don’t know how you could ever think that.”

“Dad, I’m sorry.”

He didn’t say anything just got up and went to the sink, he refilled his glass and took deep drinks.  Then he came over to me and put a hand on my head.

“Well you're home now.”

I looked up at him. I could see he was upset. He was trying to swallow it. He leaned over and kissed the top of my head.   “I’m going to take a shower. I’ll be down in a bit.”

He left me at the table. That was it? No yelling no grounding, no funeral, just “well you're home now, I’m taking a shower?” I got up. I felt claustrophobic I need to get out. I headed out the door and right into Doug.

On to Part Three of California Dreaming
 
 

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