where is home?

I merged onto the freeway. Exhausted. Headed west, home, or to what I considered home for the night anyway. Dark ominous clouds hung low, but ahead clinging to the last of the daylight, the weather was clearing. Vancouver shone in the distance. I was drawn towards its aura. I took note of the time, displayed in digital orange from the car stereo console. 10:05. Still light outside, barely. It’s the longest day of the year I thought. Is that possible? Yes.

I put on my glasses as I was changing lanes and suddenly it was as if the world in front of me jumped to attention. The blurry snaking line of red lights ahead were suddenly distinguishable as belonging to individual vehicles. I started to notice the crisp edges of everything. It felt as if I had just pulled my head out of a fog. Everything suddenly looked more beautiful. The colors more vibrant.

I thought about the four house keys on my every growing keychain, wondering which I should use tonight. But the lure of the city and driving to the edge of the cloud bank became a necessity, racing against darkness. I reached the hospital just as darkness truly decended. I had passed the clouds, entered the aura, and felt the energy of the hospital drawing near. I pulled up to the side entrance, smoothly parked in a spot only steps from the door and thought to myself, 'Rock star parking', as I headed upstairs.

I thought quickly about my day. I’d taken the wrong exit off the freeway, forgotten my jacket in three different locations, and decided that my car was now slightly askew, likely due to to my collision with a bump, not a bump, more like a sunk on 18th a few days ago.

After my stop at the hospital I drove by the south side, looking up and counting over and down to David’s window. Just to assure myself that I knew where he was. I had stopped in the middle of 16th Ave to do this, just able to make out the windows in the darkness through a number of large leafy trees. A car approached from behind and I finished my counting, convincing myself that I he would be okay for the night. I drove back towards East Vancouver, carefully avoiding the bog ridden lumpy asphalt on 18th and reminding myself to check my tire tomorrow, in the daylight. I wondered why streets were allowed to become so convoluted, wasn’t someone paying taxes to upkeep our roads? I guess when you build a city over a rainforest, you’re bound to hit a few lumps and bumps in the plan. The middle East side was one of those lumps. Streets so damaged by sinking pavement that it looked like they might crack at any moment and swallow up a car, pedestrian, or innocent biker. In fact, I swore I saw the beginnings of a gaping hole on 18th, just before I sent my car sailing directly into a low dip in the street. But I won’t go back to look. The idea of something, or nothing, being below the street, a dark netherworld, was too much to comprehend.

I drove by the first of my housing options, not stopping and hardly slowing down. Not tonight I told myself. It’s okay not to go tonight. I turned the car around in a slow but deliberate u-turn and about 2 minutes later I had arrived at my final destination. I turned off the car, sat back for a minute and sighed. Home. The chain link fence gate squeaked its familiar creak, welcoming me as I passed through. I let myself in the back door. Dropped my bag in the kitchen, kicked off my shoes, glanced at the overdue milk left out on the counter and the empty ketchup bottle still tilted upside down, just in case I wanted to coax out the last drops. My clothes were becoming increasingly scattered on the floor, the couch, slung over the chair in the living room, but I didn’t care. I grabbed two single serving madarin orange jello cups, and parked myself in front of the computer with an oversized spoon. 'Where are the normal size spoons?', I thought, quickly dismissing the idea of a search for such an item, savoring the coolness as I swallowed each spoonful. I sucked the juice slowly out of the fruit bits that had sunk to the bottom before shredding them with my teeth. I sat down, my shoulders turned inward with exhaustion and closed my eyes, basking in the silence. I could sleep now. For days. I hesitated, not wanting to go to bed for fear of not sleeping, or worse, of sleeping and trapped in nightmare after nightmare without escape. Or even worse to wake up from a nightmare, alone in the nightmare of my reality. My eyes stung with tiredness as I debated my next move. I rubbed my eyes hard trying to squeeze the images of the day out to replace them with sleep and peace.

This is home.