Posted by Bob McGovern
Anthony sprawled across his futon and perched his head on the pillows he bought at Target about seven months before. He looked up at his walls and began to take in the nest he had made for himself. Pictures, keepsakes, memories – everything he could fit on his walls looked right back at him, and he thought long distant thoughts.
He decided a few months ago that it was time to graduate from a period in his life. The bars, women, friends, and feelings that Boston gave him made him feel like he never graduated from his alma mater out in Western Massachusetts. He fell into a routine, a life he enjoyed but resented. It was exactly what he was trained to do.
The urge to move west changed everything. It was time to quit, it was time to move on, it was time to just let go and see where things fell. Anthony said, “Fuck it.” The sentiment was familiar, but this time it meant something different.
Life was changing and heading towards an undefined end. There was no graduation anymore.
*******
“Goddamned Oklahoma looks good this year,” Anthony thought to himself as he thumbed through the pages of the college football magazine he bought before getting on the plane. He looked out the window and thought the same things he did when he was younger:
“I wonder how long it would take to hit the ground if you jumped… How come there’s no top to this seatbelt?... If I threw a baseball on this plane, does that mean it’s going like 4,000 miles per hour?”
He was heading back East. He and his friend Valentino signed a lease out in Colorado, he was jobless, and he had enough money to go back and not give a rat’s ass about anything for a few weeks.
As soon as he got back, he took one step into Boston and fled. He wanted a taste of college again, he wanted the real thing – it was time to head out to Olde State U. and enjoy life.
Anthony got his Jeep with Valentino and took off at midnight. They disappeared into the Berkshire Mountains and went back to old and new friends. It was as if they had never left and they loved it. It was a feeling that everyone has tried to hold onto.
They drank and smoked cigarettes and talked about old times – all while watching new drunken happy memories congeal in front of them.
The weekend rang up like any other and Valentino had to go back to Boston, back to work. He really wanted to get to fucking Colorado.
Anthony, on the other hand, stayed behind. He was there for several reasons: he wanted to go to college for one more month, he wanted to go tubing down a lazy river, and he met a girl that for many reasons stopped him in his tracks.
“Shitty timing,” he thought, many, many times.
*******
“Wow, you need that many AAA batteries sir? You must really need some batteries huh,” the Illinois gas station attendant said to Anthony, who was hyped on energy drinks and Bob Seger.
Anthony nodded, paid, and left.
He and Valentino had walkie-talkies for the ride since they took two separate cars.
::BLEEP:: “Yo, Anthony, what the fuck are you doing over there, are you ready to go or not?” ::BLEEP::
::BLEEP:: “Christ man, I just bought us some batteries why don’t you cool out? EITHER WAY! When was the last time you heard this song?”
“Against the wind… still runnin’… Agaaaaainst the wind.” ::BLEEP::
::BLEEP:: “Ah, so sweet, soooo sweet.” ::BLEEP::
::BLEEP:: “God bless America, Valentino.” ::BLEEP::
They drove through the night and the next morning. They made it from Buffalo to Boulder in one aderall-induced hell shift. They just wanted the change to happen quickly, there was no taking the Band-Aid off slowly. Rip it off, hairs and all.
During the lonely times, Anthony thought about the East. He thought about what he was leaving behind, and he tried to forget the uncertainty of what lay ahead. He had found a woman and was living a life of vodka, sex, conversation, and driving. Vodka aside, he tried to figure out what the rest of his top five favorite things were.
There was one point, when the sun was rising in Nebraska, that Anthony felt everything at once. A familiar song from his freshman year came on and he listened to it over and over. He made his own music video and cast it with all of his favorite actors and actresses. They were all those bastard friends that were making this whole situation so much harder than it was supposed to be.
For the first time in his life, the journey was winning.
*******
“Start it with a quote? Nah, too cliché. Start it with a pun, a simile, maybe just a one-liner?” Anthony thought, staring at his computer screen. He couldn’t explain, he couldn’t put it all together – it was the worst writer’s block he had ever felt.
The blog he started began to fade, he felt like his writing couldn’t explain everything that was going on. It was a helpless feeling and there was no one that could fix it. He wondered if he was even supposed to be a writer, or if it was just a passing phase.
Glen, his old rugby buddy and social compadre, wrote an unexpected post in the blog, explaining where Anthony went. It said he had grown a vagina, that the doctors were baffled, that he was seeking help for a horrible and embarrassing disease.
Anthony read the post, smiled, and looked down towards his shorts.
“I wonder if I should tell Glen that the red mark is from his sister's lips and there’s nothing to worry about,” Anthony thought while reminiscing about those fabulous 25 minutes where his grundle got its first interaction from a woman’s loving touch... and tongue.
“Nah, I’ll tell him some other time,” he thought. “His story was pretty funny anyway.”
*******
Everyday Anthony would walk through the campus of the State U of Colorado. He listened to music, watched college kids interact, and felt the tugs of intense nostalgia. What was he doing here? Did it make sense in any way, shape, or form? Probably not, but the music was good on these walks, and his mind always went elsewhere.
He sat on a bench in the middle of the quad, lit a cigarette, and put on some old song from his days in high school. Two girls walked by, obviously freshman, holding a map of campus as they tried to find their way from class to class.
“I wish it was still that easy,” Anthony thought as he flicked an ash that landed on his right foot.
The wind caught it and blew it off his shoe. He sat there for a minute and began writing a story in his head. It was a story that would never be published, and would forever be lost on the middle of Colorado on that hot summer day.
He got up and kept walking… North, then East, then West. He just didn’t want to go back home, it was too early.
That night, he thought about life, change, his family, his health, and his girlfriend. He thought about difficulty and what it was like to be years away from where he wanted to be. The pictures on his walls seemed so vivid and present for the first time in awhile.
His fingers hit the keys, drowning out the hum of his new refrigerator.
He got out of bed when he was done and flipped the calendar to September. He looked at the blank squares and sat back down on his futon.
“Fuckin’ a,” he thought.
Then he went to the kitchen and ate a handful of Honey Nut Cheerios.
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