Two Worlds
Late afternoon sunlight bathed the world around him in an ethereal glow, giving the dry, brown grass of the plains a soft golden hue. A breeze from the coast some miles off carried the nearly unnoticed scent of sea salt inland as it ruffled the hair of the lone figure, sending stray locks of unkempt red dancing. Aquamarine eyes that glimmered softly with a light of their own gazed toward the small town that was the only interruption to the natural flow of the landscape.
He was hesitating, something he rarely did.
It was not that he didn’t want to be here… it simply seemed wrong. He felt out place, as though there were no reason for him to trespass among those quaint houses. A familiar nervousness settled over him. ‘You don’t belong here,’ an accusing little voice insisted, ‘You don’t belong with them.’
‘Shut up,’ he thought back at the voice. He couldn’t help but think, though, that perhaps the voice had a point. His hands were stained too deeply to ever come clean again. It felt like a violation to this place… to any place, really, other than the streets of the city that had tainted him so thoroughly over the years.
Agile fingers shifted the small package he carried from one hand to the other. He was expected… he couldn’t keep them waiting for long.
He sighed and pushed down the urge to give in to his ritualistic search for an excuse not to go any farther. He half hoped his PHS would suddenly ring and a voice on the other end would order him back to Midgar.
He knew it wouldn’t of course… It never did. Not when he wanted it to, at any rate. The hold his life had over him had been relinquished for the day, by his own request. He started toward the town.
It was a vicious cycle. Alone at night in Midgar, he wished so often that he could be here. Those rare times he was here, more than anything, he wanted to flee back to the shadows of Midgar where he belonged.
One thin finger toyed with the end of a ribbon trailing from the package.
Laughter, bright and shining, greeted him as he approached the open door of a house that lingered in the protected recesses of his memory. Tiny smiling faces looked up at the newcomer as he entered, all eyes turned on him.
“Reno!”
He couldn’t help but grin at the squeal of delight as the sea of miniature people parted and a blur of red and green launched itself at him. He deftly captured the impish little creature and swept her up in one arm.
“Hey Squirt.”
She stuck her tongue out at him.
“I’m not a squirt. I’m a whole ten years old today!”
“Nah… You can’t be…”
“Am so!”
“Well ya still look like a squirt to me.”
He flipped her upside down, chuckling mercilessly as her long, red braids swept against the floor.
“Mommy!”
“Reno, put your little sister down.”
She looked older that he remembered… but happy. He could already hear the worried questions she would eventually bombard him with. ‘How have you been?’ ‘Are you eating enough?’ ‘Are you being careful out there?’ ‘You look thin… Are you sure you’re eating enough?’ He set his little sister down.
“Hi Mom.”
She smiled at him and he could see in her eyes the relief at seeing him safe and sound, and still in one piece.
“Well… Who wants cake?”
A chorus of ‘Me!’ and ‘I do!’ went up from the small crowd. He couldn’t remember her ever having made him a cake. But then, life had been a lot different back when he was ten…
The cake was good, with a sugary icing so sweet it made his teeth hurt. Just the way he liked it. Then came the presents. He saved his for last, denying for a short time that he’d brought anything at all until at last the imp in the emerald green dress that matched her eyes so perfectly crawled onto his lap and pleaded with him.
“Happy birthday, Squirt.”
She tore into the wrapping with glee.
“Mommy, look! Isn’t it pretty?”
‘Yes, it’s pretty,’ everyone said, in one way or another, little girls crowding around to see the delicate silver bracelet and study the tiny charms that dangled from it, envious looks on their faces.
And when the cake had been reduced to a few scattered crumbs and the colorful paper littered the floor in a festive collage and the guests sent home with ‘Thank yous’ and ‘I’ll see you tomorrows’, it was just the three of them, the littlest one asleep on Reno’s lap.
“It’s nice to have you home, Reno.”
Her voice was weary from the eventful day.
“Wish I could stay longer…”
Home… This wasn’t home. At least not his home, and as much as he might dream about it at night, it never would be. The voice still taunted, ‘You don’t belong here…’ He wished the voice were wrong. But the truth was, he belonged in Midgar so that they could be here. He’d decided that a long time ago when someone made him an offer he could neither ignore nor pass up.
“You’re leaving now, aren’t you?”
“Gotta get back to work, Mom…”
“You don’t have to go back! Just tell them you quit… Come home, Reno. Please.”
He put a finger to his lips, and glanced down at the little sleeping creature whose head rested on his knee. There was no need to wake her.
It was a plea that had gone unspoken for years. How was he supposed to tell her that the Turks were his family now? That his home was with them? How does a son tell his mother that he’s nothing more than a hired killer, too jaded to even deserve to be here for one short day? But then, maybe she already knew all that.
“Take care of Cammy, Mom.”
He lifted the little girl just enough that he could slip out from under her and laid her back down on the well-worn sofa.
“Reno…”
He’d done it for them. To get them out of that… place. But like all things in the slums, it had come at a price. He wasn’t the same person anymore… the little boy she’s raised and protected. He was a Turk… and if he had it to do again, wouldn’t change a thing.
“You be careful…”
He shook his head and smiled at her. Funny how they never really said goodbye. Funny how they never really said ‘I love you’, either. But it was there, all the same.
“Heh… I’ll be fine, Mom. Don’t worry about me so much.”
He kissed her lightly on the cheek and walked out the door. He wouldn’t be coming back again.
-fin-
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