Everlasting Smile

The first thing that you think of when you hear "California" isn't a pear tree. You think of beaches and the sun. But there we were bumping along the ends of an old train track, looking out at a field of green trees with even greener fruit. It wasn't the California dream you see on TV- no smiling faces, no groups of friends wiggling their toes in the sand. It wasn't what a kid my age imagined when I found out that's where we were going.

I watched those rows and rows of pear trees to distract me from the chaos that became my life. Of course, any little boy would have been ecstatic to ride on an old train like the one that's been home for too many days, but the excitement wore off a few stops into a "trip" that never did have a return date. At the time, I was just scared, confused, and honestly a little homesick.

My mom and brother were with me, which should have made me feel better but that only went so far. I could rely on Dax, but the changes in my mom were much scarier than the idea that home was a fading memory. It had been a few months since my mom packed us up, loaded us on a train, and we never saw our dad again. She kept telling us that it was what was best for us. My mom even hyped it up to seem exciting at first. At the start, I was thrilled because I didn't understand that my life was changing forever.

She turned to a group of people known as the "Roamers," and her new name became "Freeing Essence."

Dax, my older brother, was getting just as uncomfortable as I was, wanting to go home, to flee back to what we always knew. But luckily, there were plenty of kids in the group to keep us distracted. He hung out with the older boys even though most were a bit older than he was.

I hung out with a little girl named "Firefly," but she told me her real name was "Anna Pelayo." I liked the name Anna so that's what I'd call her, although her father, our group leader, told her to never repeat that name again. I was careful not to let him hear, and she was so sly that I think she preferred me to use it just because it bent the rules a little.

Anna was a lot like me. We talked for hours about anything and everything. I don't think as kids, either of us knew what was going on or why our parents were acting the way they were. But, as an adult looking back, I can tell you they were high on drugs, running from things that were most likely different for each person. They were a group of "free spirits" trying to follow their own ruleset, separate from reality, and evade any sort of consequence to an action. None of them wanted structure. None of them wanted anything you should want, like a job, a physical home, a family, or a future. It was all very confusing, and I think Anna and I grew up believing the exact opposite of that weird world we grew up in.

It was in all adults to look at me and say the same sort of thing, so when one of them walked over to me and spoke without reason, it was normal. The train was pulling up to its final station. Then a man walked to me half-dazed, with bloodshot eyes, to say, "It's all about living in the now kid."

He left his hand on my shoulder as he stared off at nothing; when Dax darted by with the bit of luggage, he had to scream, "Come on, Cole! There's a brand new world out there to explore!"

He was clearly just as excited to be off that train as I was but perhaps not poisoned with stomach pits from feeling homesick.

I grabbed my bag and a guitar case from the cabin. The holder was way too big for me to carry, but I didn't care because I loved it. So, I struggled to lug my things off of the train the best I could.

My mom was waiting for me beside my brother. She pressed her lips together in dissatisfaction when she studied my small framed standing there with that big old guitar case. Then she asks, "don't you think it's time to leave that in the past, Cole?"

I frown when I see her focusing on my guitar. It was my father's. When he left for work the day she took us, I grabbed it because I thought I'd surprise him and learn to play it while we were all gone for our trip. After all, he hadn't played it himself in so long I figured he wouldn't miss it since we were only supposed to be gone for a few days- according to my mom. I didn't know it would be a forever trip, or I wouldn't have stolen it. The day that she told me to get rid of it, the guitar was the only thing I had left of my dad.

Dax frowned with me to beg, "But mom.... don't make 'im do that!"

She placed her hands on her hips and grabbed the handle to lead us to an old rickety bench beside the train station building.

"It's time to leave this old thing here," she gets low to our level as she speaks firmly.

"Why can't I keep it?" I ask with my chin tucked down to my chest.

"We are leaving it for someone who needs it. You don't even play the guitar." She continues.

"He was learnin," Dax defends.

She snaps, "We aren't keeping this stupid thing!"

"It was Dad's," I urge.

"Shut up!" She screams as Dax, and I wince.

Just then, the group lead, Mr. Roamer, comes to her side. He pinches his fingers together to rub the back of her neck. My mom rests her head in her hand at her eyebrows.

His voice was always soft and creepy. At this moment, there was no exception. He asks, "Do we need to take a chill pill? What's going on, Essence?"

I watch as an overly stressed and near-hysterical version of my mom explains things. She keeps hiding her face and pointing to my dad's old guitar. She's crying while his comforting voice says everything to calm her down and none of the truth. Even though I was just a child, I could smell his deception, and I still recognize it to this day.

Mr. Roamer places both hands on my shoulders and stares straight into my eyes. he peeks over his big rim glasses to say, "We decided this instrument has bad energy, kid."

I listen but am smart enough to keep my lips sealed around the leader.

"Why don't you forget about it and go play with the other kids in the pear fields?"

"Yes, sir," Dax reluctantly takes the lead to help show my younger self the correct answer.

I nod and answer, "Yes, sir," out of common sense, following my brother.

Dax was never a fan of staying down in the dumps, but he was even more of an opponent of seeing me down in the dumps. So he playfully pushed and urged me to start running by making teasing remarks. And together, as brothers do, we sprinted to the pear field.

The trees were all so big, and the fruit was so fresh it hadn't begun to fall and decorate the floor much. It smelled like heaven and looked like it too. It may not have been the California dream, but it was a new world that I never knew existed, especially here.

Some of the other kids joined us for a game of Hide-And-Go-Seek. We were all giggling when everyone screamed, "not it!" And as one of the youngest, I was always late on the draw. Like the many times before this, I was the first one to be 'it.'

I turned around to shield my eyes and count.

One!

Two!

Three!

By the time I shot my eyes open, all of the kids were gone. I charged towards the station to see who I could find. None of the kids were there, but I noticed the lonely wobbly bench where we left my mom. A quick glance helped me forget our game and reminisce on my guitar. The seat was empty, the guitar was gone, and with it my last piece of dad. Even though I couldn't play, though I don't remember him using it, there was an odd significance to it, like having it there with me kept dad closer than he was.

I moped away from the station to continue my pursuit of the others. A few kids would pop out of the bushes, and I'd run as fast as my little legs would allow to send them back to 'base.'

Suddenly, someone different popped out of the bushes. Anna peeked her head out from behind a tree and whispered loudly, "Cole! Cole! Come here!"

So I ducked behind the tree and into a clearing where she stood. She twirled in-between the pear trees with a giant smile and asked, "Did you find everyone yet?"

"No," I answer, "I'm still looking for Dax."

She giggled and asks, "So you're not still looking for this?"

I watch as my best friend struggles to pull my big old guitar case out of the bushes.

"My guitar!" I scream in excitement.

"I think you should have it," she admits quietly.

I rush to the case to crank its old hinges opened like tradition. Inside was a crisp old guitar with my father's name engraved at the bottom. I peel its neck from the case and lay the instrument in my lap tenderly.

"Can you play me a song?" She asks as she takes her young eyes to study the piece just as ominously as me.

"I don't know how but I can try," I announce as I fidget with the strings of the guitar that needed to be tuned ages ago.

We both nearly jump out of our skin when the nearby brush jiggled. I was so quick to try to hide the guitar behind my back like it wasn't there until we saw Dax standing before us.

"Firefly?" He questions at the sight of Anna.

Before she answered him, I expose the guitar.

"You got it back?" Dax questions with the most enormous beam.

"Anna- err Firefly- found it," I answer.

"We gotta keep it hidden." Dax suggests as he settles on the floor with us, "They will take it away again."

"Yeah...." I let my words trail off with wonder of how long I'd actually be able to keep the old thing with my mom lurking.

Anna chimes in like she could read my mind, "Let's enjoy it while we can."

I smile at her.

Dax stands and declares, "Play us a song!"

So I start strumming on the strings just like a kid who's never touched a guitar would. The two of them danced around the clearing.

When you're on the run like we all were, you never know how long those smiles might last. So like they always say, you have to live in the moment and appreciate every ounce of joy. Because you never know when playing the guitar surrounded by pear trees will be the happy memory that gets you by in the hardest of days.

It's one of my happy memories. The time was one I can confidently say that no matter the heartache that I didn't understand- I smiled, Anna danced, and Dax laughed. There wasn't another thing at that moment that mattered.