23 June 2014

Sammy Part 6: The end of the middle

October 2011
I’ve been away at college for a few months now. I haven’t driven my car or any car in that long, and even riding in a car is beginning to feel strange to me. However, this weekend I’m going back to Berlin. Tom doesn’t know. Mom doesn’t know. Although I considered telling her, when she came up to River Falls the previous weekend with Sam for my 19th birthday. I can’t keep myself from grinning as my ride drops me off at Berlin’s Kwik Trip.  I call my friend Carlson and ask her to take me out to my house, but I just want her to drop me off at the end of the street. So I’ll be a lone stranger walking up to the door. I have my sword umbrella open concealing my face as I walk down the long country street. There is someone outside stoking a campfire, but no one seems to be inside the house.
“Hello,” I say trying to make my voice sound deep and gruff. I can’t see the look on my brother’s face through the umbrella and the dark, but when I pull the umbrella away I see he’s holding the stir stick like a weapon, ready to fight like we used to when we were kids.
“Anthony?” he asks in shock as I say “yeah.”
His hardened expression drops with his stir stick, and he walks forward giving me a big hug. “What are you doing here?” he asks as I tell him how I got here.
“Is mom home?” I ask.
“No, but she should be off work soon,” he says as a devious smile creeps across his face. “We need to surprise her too,” he says as we walk to the house.
When I get inside the door, Sammy is beside herself. She always barks when we get home, it’s her way of saying “You’re back! It’s so good to see you!” However, this time, for the first time, she was crying in between her barks. I’d never seen her so excited before in my life. She missed me and I was home and she was so very happy that she couldn’t help but cry. I instantly rolled on the floor petting and playing with her as she gradually calmed down.
“Tom, I’ve got an idea,” I say with a now thrilled Sammy lying next to me. She’s gnawing on her latest chewy bone and her tail can’t stop wagging.
---
A few minutes later, I’m sitting on Tom’s bed in my old room reading. Sammy scratches at the door to get inside, but I ignore her. Mom will be home any minute. Some time passes, and Tom goes back outside to put out his campfire. When mom’s car rolls up, Sam begins barking and Tom walks back into the house.
Mom greets Tom and an excited Sam as the two of them go onto the couch to talk about their days. After the excitement of mom being home had worn off, Sam returns to scratching at the door to my former bedroom.
“What’s her deal?” I hear Tom provoke Mom.
“Sam,” Mom says as the scratching momentarily stops. “What do you want?”
She continues trying to get in. I’ve begun to start making noises to keep her interested in the room. “I bet she just misses Anthony,” Tom says.
“I guess that makes sense. We did just see him last weekend,” Mom says to him. “Sammy, Anthony’s not here.”
This is the moment I’ve been waiting for. I open the door, and walk into the living room with mock indignation on my face as I say, “Yeah I am.”
Mom is speechless for a moment, her eyes wide in shock, before she runs up to me and catches me in a tight embrace. It’s so very good to be here.
---

But the house is different. The furniture has been moved, and I no longer have a room, and there’s only a half-gallon of milk in the fridge because I was the only one who really drank milk. It’s not my house any more. I don’t live here, and Sammy is no longer my dog. She’s developed a much closer bond with my mother and brother in my absence. I feel like I’ve been replaced, as absent as the other half-gallon of milk. There is a part of me that knows I’m being over dramatic, but that part of me is meek and chooses not to speak up.

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