Disclaimer: I do not own RFR or the lyrics to the song "The Pancake Bay Weather Station" by Paper Moon .
Thanks to Amanda, Allie, and Kimbiegirl for reviewing,thanks to Angie for helping me pick the song ,and thanks to Tina for listening to me rant on and on about Lily. I finally figured out how to put all that anger to good use. LOL.
Chapter four: The Pancake Bay Weather Station
After he left the underground he couldn't figure out where to go.
Not to school, Waller would have a field day.
Defiantly not home.
Not even Mickey's.
He walked down the old un-paved road and kicked the gravel on the ground. He kicked one and it landed in a hole ."Perfect Shot" he thought but then thought of something else, someone else actually. He remembered the days that they would walk along these roads, trying to aim and odd targets, doing little victory dances when they would "score". He remembered all these things as if he was looking at photos. He hated remembering. He kicked the ground madly, suddenly mad at himself, or the world, but really he was just mad at her."Dammit" he muttered to himself "Dammit dammit dammit. Everything has got to be about her. Every little thing".
He started to walk faster and faster, finally breaking into a run. He was running from his life, trying to run from everything and just loose it all. He was running from her.
He reached a grassy area which he recognized as the park. He collapsed to the ground, coughing and panting. He looked up and across the park. He saw the playground, the pond, the benches and the trees. He saw a boy and a girl playing, feeding the ducks, reading books, and climbing. He saw his life, his past, himself, and he saw her.
He couldn't understand what he felt, remembering all these things. Was it anger? Was it sorrow? Was it happiness? To picture her face made him want to laugh and cry all at the same time. He wanted to remember, it was all he had left. Travis didn't have these memories.No, he didn't have to. He didn't have to remember her because he had her. He had her in the here and now, not in the past. To him these memories would be worthless.
Crack open the photo album.
I need to rediscover contentment, and if I need to look into the past to find it,
then that's what I'll do.
Start leafing through the pages.
I've been through this dozens of times before.
What makes me think if I try once more,
I'll see something new?
But there amongst the blurry highway curiosities,
badly framed landscapes and poorly lit faces is a startling revelation I hadn't expected to find.
This is me looking over my shoulder.
This is me watching something that's just out of view.
This is me pretending I had what I wanted,
and this one's you.
Twilight is wandering in,
concealing evidence of uncertainty.
Empty bottles, an unwritten letter and me,
watching time go by.
Made myself believe that life couldn't be better.
Settled into routine,
turned into a standstill when the thing that was missing wasn't missing at all.
This is me looking over my shoulder.
This is me watching something that's just out of view.
This is me pretending I had what I wanted,
and this one's you.