Dallas Homecoming

When she was young, her and her brother learned about time capsules. In a world that was not afraid of change, something resting underground, patiently awaiting the light again, was almost inspiring.

Almost.

She and Mikey had tried to create time capsules to bury and dig up when they were older and wiser, but their family moved every year. They did their best to keep track of the dates and locations of all the capsules. They eventually lost track of the list between moves and bouts of puberty, but their young spirits told them they could have treasure hunt adventure in the future, instead. Optimism abound, they parted with inexpensive toys and trinkets every year or so, until the final out-growing happened. Graduating high school, college and jobs and lovers strung them along separate paths.

“How is Vegas, Mikey?” she asked him on the phone.

“Gross. But it's fine, my friends here are cool.” he told her.

“Haha, yeah you said Phil has been helping you since he moved in. That's good to hear. But is the city really that gross?”

“I mean, yeah, I saw a used condom on the ground, Dallas.”

“Ewww! Mikey!”

“What?! I didn't use it!” he said, and they laughed like they used to for a moment.

“Anyways...” the silence fell.

“Have you heard from Aunt Phyllis?” Mikey asked her.

Dallas had heard from Aunt Phyllis. That woman's life was made of medical bills, but luckily for Phyllis Daugherty, it wasn't a problem for her anymore. She sucked in a breath. Had he not heard?

“Mikey...” she started. She did not need to finish.

“Oh man...seriously Dallas? When did it happen! You are not telling me she's dead!”

“I am. I'm sorry.” Their dad had said he would call Mikey, and he had called her while she was working, so she put it in the back of her head to tell him herself anyways. Dad had a reputation of not following through with uncomfortable situations. If she told Mikey that, he'd just feel worse.

“I should have called you, Mikey, but things have been so busy.”

“Dallas, I know, but we don't talk hardly anymore because you never call and I only have so many people in our family that I give a shit about. I can't believe you didn't tell me. When was it?”

“...It's been about 2 months now. I couldn't make it to the funeral, but I thought...”

“You thought what Dallas! That I would magically know! That it might be fine to just not tell me that the woman who basically raised us is dead! Dead, Dallas. Fucking dead....” Mikey trailed off and she strained to hear him. She heard clipped breaths, a concealed weeping. Having never been the one to hide her emotions, she felt her own tears welling up and escaping.

“I cannot tell you how sorry I am Mikey. I don't feel like myself. I love my job over here, but I feel so different. Especially without you, I just am not the same person. I miss you so much. I'm sorry I don't call. It makes me weird. I'm so so so sorry. Please Mikey. Please forgive me.” she said.

It was quiet for another moment. She felt her fingers shaking, just like when they were kids, and their parents would fight. She balled them up and she longed for her sibling even more. She sniffled.

“I miss you too, Dallas. You know, even though Dad is the worst, I almost had enough faith that he would be man enough to tell me something like that, at least. I wish I could hug you. I'm sorry I yelled.” his voice quieting to comfort his kin.

She just wanted to see him. And then she had an idea.

“It's only like three hours from here to Las Vegas, right?”

“Only three hours, pssh...I mean, wait, from Flagstaff to here? I think so, why?”

“I'm gonna call in sick, it's coming up on the weekend anyways!”

“Dallas, why? What are you thinking?”

“Let's bury a time capsule!”

Yet another silence.

“But why? Still, just why?” Mikey asked, sounding incredulous. At least the tension passed.

“Well, I don't know, we could grab some junk we don't actually need and maybe write a eulogy to Auntie Phyllis, for some resolution. And for future generations to be in awe of!”

“We're not the ones going to dig it up later?”

“Well, we have a pretty bad track record of lost locations of time capsules, so they are for people other than us at this point.”

“Good point. I mean....I'm not busy next few days either, somehow, so why the hell not?”

Two packed cars in two different cities later, they met at the halfway point between them. Besides the passive guilt of wondering why they didn't do this more often for not being that far, it was an easy ride for the two. They met in Kingman, Arizona, at the Arizona Inn. Checking out a room, they went to Wendy's and walked around town.

“Is that a train?” Mikey stopped on the sidewalk, pointing ahead of them.

“Ahhh...” Dallas turned her head, “Oh, yeah, I guess it is. It's a park or something, looks like. Why? You still into trains?” she said.

“What if I am, hm? I didn't go to school for anything train-related, but they are still mechanical wonders that help launch humanity into the industrial age. I'm not wrong.” Mikey said.

“Ha! Hey, lets go look at it, but I saw a museum back there and I want to go look around in there too.”

One trip to the Mohave Museum Gift Shop later and a souvenir for the capsule, Mikey and Dallas went back to the inn to pile their time memorabilia into Mikey's car.

As night fell, they drove around looking for some open space. In Kingman, you could find plenty, and they picked a spot to bring their trinkets to. Mikey had brought a container that looked like it would last long enough underground.

“I think my roommate was going to use this for indoor composting. But it's made of metal, and I'll get her another one. Did you put the shovel in my trunk?”

“Yes, I did. And how many roommates do you have again?”

“It's a revolving door sometimes, maybe about 3 on average.” They laughed.

“Show me what you brought!” Dallas told him.

“Well...I know you said just stuff we didn't need, I know we lost the last ones. But I thought I could actually remember this time, being a grown up and all. I got some other stuff too, but look at this.”

Mikey held his hand out. They were standing in an opening surrounded by desert. The headlights on Mikey's car cast a harsh illumination on them. It was a purple spinning top.

“I mean, I think I know what it is, but I can't remember..” she told him.

“It's one of the first things we tried to put in a time capsule at all. But, you had given it to me the day before, I remember, and we were, like, six, I dunno. And I didn't want to bury it. It was in the pile of stuff we were putting in that box, but I hid it in my pocket. It still spins pretty good.” Mikey said, trying to spin it in his palm.

“Mikey...”

She reached into her backpack of things and pulled out a pen with multiple colors in the barrel, that could be clicked out accordingly for use. “This is so dumb, but you brought an old thing too. This is the pen we found in seventh grade on the playground. Remember how it just blew our tiny minds? Like, how many colors can you put in one pen!? Some girl tried to take it from us after that, though, and you pushed her down and got in trouble, but I made sure to not lose it because you got grounded for it. I really appreciated what you did. It's super dried out, but I just managed to keep it with my other stuff.”

“That is so cheesy. I love you, Dallas. This was a good idea.”

They sat on the ground in front of the car, pulling things out and reminiscing. They brought some sentimental pictures, some things that were meant as jokes, and among these Dallas added the souvenir from the museum to the container once destined for worms and food scraps.

They joked about sharing the intense labor of digging a small hole for it, sharing more stories and hardship than they had in the last five years. Maybe it didn't matter if they ever dug the capsule themselves up again. Maybe burying it was enough.

They had written a small, lovely little eulogy to Aunt Phyllis at the inn. They read it together one last time and cried, shedding the kind of weight nobody ever realizes they're carrying until it's gone.

Satisfied with the job done and the hole filled in, they went back to the inn and fell asleep side by side, in the clothes they had arrived in.

They checked out of the room and got ready to head separate ways again, the sun clear in the dry air of the Arizona Dessert.

She had told Mikey on the phone that she didn't feel like herself, but after hugging him tearfully, and promising to call right when she got home, she headed home in the sunlight. The same sun that had guided her there, guided her back as a different person. She remembered who it was that used to dig her back up from her own darkness. She was unafraid of the world, so she was unafraid of change, all the way to her driveway in Flagstaff, where she called her brother immediately. She wouldn't forget again.