Author's Note: So, here is the next chapter. I started writing this, and it was originally much longer, but I felt like I needed to cut where I did, meaning I already have Chapter 3 started. Hopefully I can get that updated this week. Thanks to those who have favorited/followed/reviewed this story (hi Todd!). I know the first chapter was pretty rough emotionally, but it will lighten up eventually if you stay with me. So, enjoy, and more to come hopefully!
Disclaimer: I do not own Austin & Ally. No copyright infringement intended!
From the moment Austin woke up the following morning, the days leading up to the move to Miami went by in a blur. Mimi was running around like a chicken with her head cut off, trying to pack the last 15 years of their lives into the back of a single U-Haul truck. To say Mimi Moon was a packrat was an understatement. To put this in perspective, most babies have one baby book: Austin had six. She held on to every piece of clothing he ever wore and grew out of; every pre-school art project with crooked writing and haphazardly strewn glitter; every toy he ever owned (including the ones that broke after one use). So, going through all of it and trying to decide what to keep, what to donate, and what to pitch was giving her an ulcer. She could feel it growing…she was sure of it.
The process took two full days, which only left two days to finish everything else that needed to get done before their big move south on Friday.
During the day, Mimi dragged Austin around with her everywhere as she ran errands. He didn't mind the trip to the bank, because at least he got a lollipop out of that deal. But, for the rest of it, he just shuffled behind his mother, praying it would be over soon.
During the evenings, all of their time was spent cleaning the house and packing. Austin was shocked each morning as he roamed the halls and rooms of his home. His mother would stay up well into the night packing, so each morning, a little more of the familiar was gone—stowed away in cardboard and ready for storage. With each bare room, more of his home disappeared.
On the last night in their family home, as his room had already been completely packed up, his mother told him to sleep in her bed. He put on his pajamas, brushed his teeth, and climbed into his mother's king-size, top-of-the-line bed, which she had already turned down for him. When she came to tuck him in a few minutes later, he closed his eyes and pretended to be asleep, as he had done so many times before. He loved his mother, but he knew her. She had the look all day like she had something to say to him, but kept getting interrupted before she could get it out. Now, one-on-one, would be the perfect time to have that conversation. But, Austin didn't really feel like talking. In fact, since the day his parents broke the news, Austin said nothing. He would nod or shake his head when anyone asked him a Yes or No question, but that's all anyone could get out of him. It's not that he was too traumatized to speak or anything like that. He was just afraid of what would come out of his mouth if he did try to open it.
"Austin, honey," Mimi said as she walked over to sit at the edge of the bed. When she got no response, she inched closer and nudged his leg. "Austin," she said again, this time a little louder. He wasn't expecting the leg nudge, but thought he covered well. He heard his mother sigh as she stood up, seemingly convinced of his sleep state, and pulled the covers up over his shoulders. After leaning in to kiss his forehead, she whispered silently into his hair, "good night, my sweet boy. When you wake up, we'll start our new life. It will be wonderful, I promise."
He wasn't sure if she was reassuring him or herself.
The drive to Miami from Cincinnati was endless in Austin's nine-year-old mind.
His mother scheduled rest stops and food breaks and little excursions along the way to break up the monotony of car travel for her son and to try to make the experience a good one. She thought that if Austin saw this as an adventure, then maybe he would start talking to her again. Or laugh. Or at least smile. She hadn't seen him do it once since the car ride home on D-Day (which is how she started referring to the day in the ice cream parlor in her own mind), and even then she could tell he was just putting on a brave face. All she knew was that seeing him this unhappy was breaking her heart in two.
He wasn't really interested in sightseeing though…he just wanted to get there already. He wanted bury himself in one of his Nana's hugs and let her hold him so tight he couldn't breathe. He wanted to spend days at sea, fishing with his Pops, listening to completely inappropriate stories about the war. But mostly, he just wanted space…from his mother, his problems, and his sadness.
After spending one night at a cheap motel somewhere in Alabama, they finally arrived in Miami. Of course, Austin had visited the city before on family vacations, and once with his mother when Pops had a heart attack a few years earlier, but it felt different this time.
They pulled into the driveway at his grandparents' house, and as soon as he stepped out of the car, he was struck by two things immediately. The first was the heat. Summertime in Cincinnati could get pretty hot, with temperatures rising well into the 90s during the height of the summer months. On rainy days, the heat would be replaced by humidity that would get so bad you'd feel like you were breathing milk. But in Miami, the heat and humidity seemed to exist at the same time, making the experience of being outside anywhere but at the pool or beach unbearable. As he wiped the sweat off his brow with the hem of his t-shirt, he wondered if he would ever get used to it.
The second was the piano music. It seemed to be coming from everywhere and nowhere all at once. While he didn't recognize the song, he felt every note of it. It was a sad melody, almost lonely in its construction, and it spoke to Austin. He was pulled forward by it, needing to know who was playing it. He saw an open window at the next-door neighbor's house that he could probably see through if he stood on his tip-toes, but before he could walk any further, he was pulled back to reality by his mother's voice.
"Austin, honey! Come here please and help me take some of these things inside," she said, waving him back to the car. He reluctantly turned around and walked back toward the car, but not before realizing that the music, wherever it was coming from, had stopped. He turned back to look at the open window and thought he saw someone looking at him. He rubbed his eyes to get the sleep out of them after the long trip, and when he turned back, the person was gone. The hairs on the back of his neck stood at attention then, and he watched the window for a second or two longer before shrugging off the weird feeling and going to help his mom.
So, do you think Austin actually saw someone, or were his eyes just playing tricks on him? Please review! Thanks for reading!