Our City

“That’s the thing about this city,” The clean-shaven man at the podium grinned and continued speaking. “It will never change.”

           The crowd cheered. Women applauded and men offered grunts of affirmation. He took a bow and waltzed back to his chair on the left side of the stage. I glanced at him from my own seat and was met with a challenging wink that said, beat that.

           “Next we’ll hear from our opposing candidate, James.” As I looked up, all eyes of the crowd were on me. No one made a peep. I stood shakily and gulped. My hands were clammy, and I could feel the sweat dripping off the side of my face. I approached the podium and placed my hands on the mic, pulling it down to my height. It squealed as the crowd issued a collective grumble and grimace.

           “So… sorry. I apologize.” I stuttered. I took a deep breath and closed my eyes. The words of my mom rang through my thoughts. ‘Show them who you truly are. Show them why you care.’ I smiled lightly and opened my eyes once again.

           “Folks of Halloway Corners. I, James Jones, am running against Tucker Price for the elected position of Mayor for our great city.” My voice continued to waver. “He. He.. He has.. Has been a fine mayor.. for..For the past few years, but I think…” My voice trailed off. Deep breathes, James. The thoughts flooded my head. What was so great about this city? How could I show everyone that I cared?

           *

           The flowers erupted into bloom on the first week of April. I had heard that there had been a late frost, but Spring was alive and well. The sidewalks were littered with scraps of chalk, bubble wands, and lose basketballs. Images of suns, trees, stars, and love notes were etched onto the sidewalk until the next rain came. Children laughed in chorus with one another while mothers hollered down the street that it was time for lunch. The street fell silent, except for my moving van.

           I was the smallest kid on the block. I had known that as soon as we rounded the corner onto what would become our new home. We had traveled all the way from California into this verdant area known as Arkansas. As we unpacked throughout the day, children continued to run by screaming joyfully. A few stopped by to ask me if I wanted to play, but I had politely declined. I had to help my mom unpack.

           It had been only 2 months since my father’s death. Esophageal cancer had taken him, but not without a fight. I had never known what it meant to be broken until the morning when I had jumped awake from the ear-piercing screams coming from my mom and dad’s bedroom. I ran full-speed to find my mother shaking on the floor, grasping my father’s sleep shirt that was soaked with her tears.

           We had to move because of the funeral expenses. My mother could not afford a house payment. My father hadn’t had a job for several years because of his illness. So, we packed our bags and headed to a cheaper area. An area away from the beach. An area away from my friends. An area away from my father’s grave.

           We were instantly welcomed into this new place called Halloway Corners. Women would bring recipes and cooking supplies to my mom, making her feel like an insider, rather than the outcast widow like she had felt in our last few months in Cali. On several occasions, I remember pulling into our driveway to be greeted by a neighbor mowing our lawn or trimming the hedges in our front yard.

           As time went on, none of the kind deeds went away. My middle school principal paid for all of my supplies in 8^th grade, and I will never forget how grateful it made Mom. She had sobbed for hours trying to figure out how to send me to school that year. She finally managed to get a job at a little bakery downtown. She loved that job so much. I loved it too because she always smelled like cinnamon rolls when she came home.

           Our neighbor, Mr. Smith, was my math tutor. He was the man who gave me my first piece of relationship advice whenever my heart skipped a beat at Jenny Wilder, the cheer captain. He was also the man that took me paintballing whenever Jenny shattered my heart at our Senior prom. I had thought I was going to marry that woman, but she had other plans that involved a one-nightstand with Tucker Price, my best friend.

           Tucker was a hard person to understand. In class, he struggled. On the football field, he was the MVP: our starting quarterback. I, being the new kid on the block, was the back-up quarterback and never got my moment to shine. He pushed me around for not being more athletic. I tried to push back, but nothing ever happened.

           While I struggled to work 2 jobs and attend high school to help my mom pay the bills, Tucker lounged around by his in-ground pool with the hottest girls in school. Did I envy him? Every second of Every. Single. Day. That is, until I figured out who he really was.

           I worked at the city’s finest hotel, and our most frequent visitor was, as you may have guessed, Tucker Price. Tucker was the city’s most eligible bachelor, but everyone still respected him. Every night that he came in, it was with a different woman.

           “Room 205, please.” He’d say as the young women kissed him gingerly on the cheek. I always rolled my eyes but gave him the key anyway. It was my job. The next morning, the women would stumble down the stairs in tears because they knew that they would not get another night with good ole’ Tuck. Everywhere I went, it was Tuck this, Tuck that. Good ole Tuck on everyone’s lips: everyone but my own.

           Where did all this anger and resentment come from? My 18^th birthday. I had awoken differently than normal. The usual aroma of ground coffee beans was gone, along with the sweet cavity-forming sensation of the cinnamon rolls that Mom usually brought home from the bakery. I stumbled out of bed, pulling on my torn sweats. I had traveled down the hall, calling her name but she did not answer. I knocked on her door and waited. Nothing had happened. I pulled open the door and found a motionless shadow. I gasped, but didn’t want to think of what could have happened. I knelt down beside her bed and touched her cheek. It was cold and dry, the antithesis of her usual form. The sirens flooded my mind and I remembered nothing else.

           When I ran out of the house that day, I ran straight for the home of Tuck. I remember throwing open his front door, running up the stairs to his room, and gasping for air. I hadn’t breathed since I had opened my mother’s door.

           “She’s dead, Tuck.” I had sobbed. He turned around and shrugged.

           “You’ve already lost one parent. What’s one more?” He had asked. And in that moment, I remember gaining an uncanny amount of strength. I clocked him right in the nose, unaware of my actions. Then, I had left him bleeding on the floor and never returned. The only other times I ever saw him were those times in the hotel lobby and when he got elected Mayor both times he had ran. No one else saw his phony attitude. No one else knew he was heartless. He played to the people.

*

And here I am, standing in front of these same people; the people that Tuck had pledged his loyalty to for all these years. The carrier of the football team to the state championship had fumbled this city, making no refurbishments and no changes to anything. He liked it the way that it was.

“I can’t tell you how many times I have heard that Mr. Price is the best thing that ever happened to this city. He really is a cityman. But, what I can tell you is that this city. The city of Halloway Corners was and is the best thing that has ever happened to me. After the death of my father, I didn’t know how I could continue. This city welcomed me with grace and love. When my mother died, this city faltered none. You all showed me what it truly meant to be home.”

I smiled at the crowd. Several of them grinned and wiped away tears.

“That’s the thing about this city.” I said, wiping a tear from my eye. “It always feels like home.”