Soria Girl

I always loved long drives. Especially when I had my SkyPod and could drown out the sounds of a roaring engine with sweet music. There was nothing better than sitting in the passenger’s seat and looking out the window for so long my neck cramped up.

That being said, though, driving with my dad to downtown Jacksonville a few days after the beach trip kinda sucked.

He had the radio off. His arm was thrown carelessly over the steering wheel and he turned into streets limply, lifelessly. He didn’t say a word. And if I know my dad – which I do – I know that when he drove like this…something was up.

Yesterday, he had asked me if I wanted to go to downtown at night.

“To do what?” I had asked in return.

He shrugged. “Well, I don’t know. Whatever you wanna do, Sor.”

“But what is there to do?”

“We could…walk around, see a movie…” he trailed off. “C’mon. Let’s just go, alright?”

And I had simply went along with it, just being apathetic toward the event. As far as I was concerned, it was just another opportunity to listen to music and eye the city. I didn’t plan on anything really happening.

The five o’ clock sun was beginning to set in the distance, painting the sky in beautiful shades of violet. Clouds were strewn across it all. The milky sun blinded me and I had to pull the mirror down to keep the light out of my eyes.

“Where do you wanna eat?” Dad asked casually.

I shrugged.

He rolled his eyes. “Seriously.”

“Well, what is there to eat down here?”

“Lots of places, I guess,” he added. “Just…pick something.”

We were starting to roll into where the streets got narrower and the streetside shops were getting trendier. Ah, downtown Jax. A breeding place for hipsters….

Dad pointed up ahead at a break in the cluster. “Let’s find a place along the water.”

I didn’t offer defiance to that. There was no point; I didn’t care where we dined, really.

Dad made an effort to drive extra slow tonight, I guess. The St. John’s River rolled past my window like molasses; we passed under bridges and the worthless graffiti plastered the underbelly of the city – street art with nothing to say but profanity.

He sighed – again – and ushered toward a Saturday’s up ahead. “You wanna stop here?”

“Sure,” I mumbled haphazardly, not paying complete attention. My SkyPod kept it better than Dad did.

Dad rolled his eyes. “You know, Soria…”

“Yeah?”

His gaze was hard at first, but then he softened. “…Nothing.”

I went back to window-staring. The Modis building looked so much bigger in person and I had to stop and gape. But when I got into the groove of daydreaming, the truck yanked sharply to the left and my daze was broken.

Without him knowing, I shot Dad a dirty look.

- - -

The silence engulfing my father and I was terrifying.

We’d just ordered our food and the half-hour wait loomed before us. The last time I really talked to him was before he dropped the news that we were moving. Both of us knew that. That was what sucked about it.

“So…how’s the band?” he pried sheepishly. He’d folded his hands on the top of the table, and because we chose to sit outside, he was squinting at the sun.

“Alright,” I said, careful not to say that they’d shit bricks if I told them I was leaving for sure. “We’re, um…yeah.”

Dad smirked a little. “How are they with the, uh…thing about…?”

“Moving?” I uttered. The word was like a lighter.

“Yeah,” he gulped.

Time to tell a white lie. “Well…they’re…um, I don’t know. I…haven’t really…told them yet.”

“Oh.”

Another silence.

Dad checked his watch, blocking the sun from shining in his eyes. Then he shrugged and asked, “You wanna catch a movie after this?”

“There’s nothing good out.”

“Well, maybe…” he refuted. “…There’s…Soria…I don’t wanna sit at the house tonight and be bored. I’m doing this for you.”

I bit my lip. “Well…we could see that superhero movie…”

“Okay, sounds good,” Dad hastily agreed.

We ate in complete silence.

- - -

By the time we were done with dinner and the movie, the time was 9 PM and my aching bones were ready to go back home.

I could feel my hair frizz up again as we stepped outside into the dense Jacksonville air; Dad grimaced at the weather but didn’t say a word. As I started toward the car, he grabbed me by the sleeve of my shirt and pulled me over to him.

“Oh, no you don’t,” he commanded. “C’mon. Let’s walk.”

I grunted and rolled my eyes, but he either didn’t see me or was just ignoring me.

Trudging along grudgingly, I focused my attention on the bright gleaming lights of Jacksonville. They only seemed a hop, skip, and leap away – only on the other side of the river. Under the impression that I could reach out and grab a building like it was just a candy bar, I chewed on my lip some more.

Dad patted my back and noticed my fixation. “Pretty beautiful, huh.”

“Yeah.” I resisted the urge to make a snarky remark about never being able to see it again.

He walked down the riverside. Only a cement wall kept us from the water, and looking down, it still seemed so low below me. I had heard it was a real shitty river, but I think that was the first time I’d seen it.

Dad leaned on his arms on the wall, gazing toward the cluster of downtown wistfully. I stood next to him and crossed my arms.

He glanced over at me and smiled sadly. I just raised an eyebrow at him.

“Soria…you know, I love you.”

“I know.”

“And I don’t say this enough, but I’m really proud of you.”

“Hm.”

He turned around, sitting on the wall but still keeping an eye on the skyline. He was gripping the cement even harder. “I just…you’re mad at me. I understand why.”

“Duh, you’re making me move again,” I spat, avoiding eye contact.

Looking a little taken aback, Dad went silent for a moment.

“I mean, it’s…it’s tough,” I whispered.

“I know it’s hard for you, Soria,” he choked out, “but it’s what I have to do. It’s not something I can just say no to.”

A lump rose in my throat. When I turned to look at Jax again, the pain didn’t stop, either.

“It’s tough having to move again, but at least it’s to a place you know and remember. I don’t like having to do this – you think I do?”

“Well, no,” I answered.

“Good, ‘cause I don’t. Matter of fact, I hate it,” he groaned, shoving his hands into his pockets. “Your mother always hated it too. Before you were even born she’d always complain about it…”

I didn’t want to talk about Mom. That wasn’t meant to be spoken about in public.

Dad eyed the skyline, gnawing on his lip and blinking every second. I walked up and hesitantly wrapped my arms around his waist, sighing into his chest. He was warm but felt blue; after a moment or so he was squeezing me tightly in his embrace.

“You’re my only flesh and blood,” he whimpered.

“I know.”

He took a deep breath, leaving a warm spot on my shirt; he was holding me tighter than he ever had. “And you’re just like your mother was.”

I gulped down tears.

A sob erupted from his system, catching me off-guard. Before I knew it he was crying into my shoulder – something I wasn’t totally used to.

“Dad, it’s okay,” I shushed. “I…I love you…”

He held his breath tentatively; after a moment or so the tears had stopped. His grip on me softened and he carefully let go. Looking down at me, the streetlights highlighting the tears across his face, he smiled softly.

“I know you’re mad at me for this,” he said lowly.

“Not at you,” I assured. “Just…at moving.”

“You don’t want to leave. I understand that. I know your friends here mean a lot to you.” He didn’t realize it, but he struck a huge chord.

Tears flooded my eyes, but I kept them in. Dad noticed and squeezed my shoulders.

“But it’s not the end of the world, I promise. Soon, you’re gonna understand that. You can write to them and call them – whatever, I guess. This is just part of life.”

I stared out at Jacksonville again. The stars in the sky sang in harmony with the lights of the city, a beautiful song of hope and anxiety and everything else I was feeling at the moment.

“We grow up, we move on, we find things that we love. People we adore. Places we just wanna see over and over again. But leaving is just part of growing up. It’s natural. You didn’t think you were gonna like Claymore when we moved here, but you warmed up to it, didn’t you?” Dad went on. “And that’s it. That’s life.”

“Yeah,” I hummed.

His hands sunk back into his pockets and we both stared downtown. “Everything happens for a reason. It’s all like clockwork. I know it seems unfair…but nothing ever truly ends.”

The tears came back. I wiped my eyes on my arm, promptly cuing Dad to walk over and drape his arm around my frame.

“Just think of all the good things that could happen. You can see your old friends, and…”

“…And ditch my new ones,” I grumbled.

Dad sighed. “Just try to be happy for once. You never know when something truly bad is gonna happen, so you gotta look on the bright side…”

What bright side? I had thought. I bit my cheek and my gaze had shifted, yet again, to Jacksonville and all the ruckus I could feel from it.

Sighing deeply, I leaned on Dad.

It was gonna be a long summer.