[Author's Note: I'm taking a break from /r/WritingPrompts. Instead, I want to expand/combine a couple of the existing posts. This will continue from from where yesterday (Mo and Lisp) left off.]
Instead of heading back into the house, Mo and her mother headed out to the old golf course and found a spot mostly clear of sheep droppings. The flock was on the back nine, so it was unlikely that they would be interrupted by hungry sweaters on the hoof.
Her mother said, simply, "Begin," so Mo did. She started with the message that she had received while working at the Quiet Place, her capture and time in the Convention Center, learning about the virus and interacting with it, how she and the others escaped, the walk to the power plant and the game of hide-and-seek that she had played there.
Mo tried to stick to just the facts, but found herself trying to explain why she had done what she had done. Why had she answered the message in the first place? A cursory examination showed it to be something other than the normal spam. Why had she agreed to the meeting? Curiosity. Why had she decided to follow the virus's advice? It offered solid advice on escape and had not tasered her. Why had she decided to infect the homeless community? The virus had helped her so she helped it with more nodes; also she needed a distraction. Why had she decided that visiting her mother was the right move? That one took more time.
Mo tried to explain about her dream of being caught in the Institute, but that came out as not very believable[1]. She tried to explain that this was the closest thing to home that she actually had. Her mother raised an eyebrow at that, which caused Mo to go into her definition of home that she had shared with Erics: that it was home because her mother lived there, but that sounded hollow out in the light of the day and in front of her mother. The tactical benefits helped: the place being off the grid, her mother being bureaucratically dead, Mo having never visited there before. But, in themselves, were not enough. She could have gone to Wyoming if that was all she needed[2].
"I dunno," she said looking down at her mother's feet as they sat on the grass. "It all sounds lame now, but made sense back at the power plant. I guess you're the only family that I have left, so that makes you the focus for whatever 'home' is. Even if we don't get along. Even if I've never been here. I was in trouble and needed to retreat, hole up and recoup before deciding what to do next. I needed to do something human, something in meat space and this was all that I could think of." She looked up through her eye lashes at her mother to gauge her reaction. The older woman had a thoughtful, if not entirely happy expression on her face.
"Believe it or not, I get it," her mother said after a second or two. "When my parents were alive, visiting them always had a twinge of homecoming, even after they had moved into the nursing home. Having you show up brings back some of that twinge. After all, you're about the only biological family that I have left, too. Maybe my brother is still around out in Texas, but I haven't heard from him in years either. Anyway." Mo's mother met Mo's stare. "We both made some mistakes when you left the Institute. It was an abrupt change. You left a broken thirteen year old and came back four years later as a teenager that I did not really know. It would have taken more than I had then to make it work."
"It would have taken Dad."
"Maybe, but he wasn't around. As you constantly reminded me."
"I didn't mean to. At least, not always."
"Maybe. But it didn't really matter. Just being in my life was a constant reminder that he wasn't around anymore. That we would both be happier with him. That we couldn't cope with each other without him."
"Is that why you finally said it?"
"Said what?"
"That you wished I had died in the crash too."
"I said that?"
"Yeah. Right before I told you that I wished you'd been in the car with us. Which didn't help much."
"I remember you saying that, but don't remember telling you I wished that you had died."
"You did."
"I believe you." Now her mother looked down at the grass. "I've also learned a lot about who I am in the three plus years that you've been gone. I've had people show me the things that I block out because I don't want to deal with them. That has been painful. Ultimately good, but very painful in the moment. It's cost me some friends and solidified a few others." Looking up and sighing, Mo's mother said, "Point is, if it helps, I'm sorry for what I said. You were reminding me of a grief I had thought tucked away and I took it out on you."
"Thanks. It does. Help that is. And I'm sorry that I punished you for not being Dad."
"You know what?" Her mother said. "I think I believe you. I don't think that you're saying that just to get what you want from me."
Mo smiled. "I'm not. You're not Dad. You never were. And that's okay. I have no idea who you are now as a person, but you are my mother and that counts for something."
"And you're my daughter whom I brought into this world. Which also counts for something. It certainly counts for a few days of shelter. I see no reason that you can't call this home for a while."
"Thanks," Mo said. "Mom."
[1] Not to mention cliche. "It came to me in a dream"? Give me a break. #lampshadesrule
[2] And not just because it has the fewest humans per square mile of any of the lower 48, but also because Wyoming had decided, along with Idaho, to make itself a destination for the Disconnected Tourist movement. Huge sections of the state were declared Wireless Free Zones (not a big issue as most of those areas had never been Wireless Active Zones in the first place) including Yellowstone National Park and the entire city of Casper. A few of the smaller municipalities took it a step further and removed anything more bandwidth intense than a Plain Old Telephone Service (POTS). The larger areas kept their hardwired fiber systems in place as there was still some business to be done in the state.
Instead of heading back into the house, Mo and her mother headed out to the old golf course and found a spot mostly clear of sheep droppings. The flock was on the back nine, so it was unlikely that they would be interrupted by hungry sweaters on the hoof.
Her mother said, simply, "Begin," so Mo did. She started with the message that she had received while working at the Quiet Place, her capture and time in the Convention Center, learning about the virus and interacting with it, how she and the others escaped, the walk to the power plant and the game of hide-and-seek that she had played there.
Mo tried to stick to just the facts, but found herself trying to explain why she had done what she had done. Why had she answered the message in the first place? A cursory examination showed it to be something other than the normal spam. Why had she agreed to the meeting? Curiosity. Why had she decided to follow the virus's advice? It offered solid advice on escape and had not tasered her. Why had she decided to infect the homeless community? The virus had helped her so she helped it with more nodes; also she needed a distraction. Why had she decided that visiting her mother was the right move? That one took more time.
Mo tried to explain about her dream of being caught in the Institute, but that came out as not very believable[1]. She tried to explain that this was the closest thing to home that she actually had. Her mother raised an eyebrow at that, which caused Mo to go into her definition of home that she had shared with Erics: that it was home because her mother lived there, but that sounded hollow out in the light of the day and in front of her mother. The tactical benefits helped: the place being off the grid, her mother being bureaucratically dead, Mo having never visited there before. But, in themselves, were not enough. She could have gone to Wyoming if that was all she needed[2].
"I dunno," she said looking down at her mother's feet as they sat on the grass. "It all sounds lame now, but made sense back at the power plant. I guess you're the only family that I have left, so that makes you the focus for whatever 'home' is. Even if we don't get along. Even if I've never been here. I was in trouble and needed to retreat, hole up and recoup before deciding what to do next. I needed to do something human, something in meat space and this was all that I could think of." She looked up through her eye lashes at her mother to gauge her reaction. The older woman had a thoughtful, if not entirely happy expression on her face.
"Believe it or not, I get it," her mother said after a second or two. "When my parents were alive, visiting them always had a twinge of homecoming, even after they had moved into the nursing home. Having you show up brings back some of that twinge. After all, you're about the only biological family that I have left, too. Maybe my brother is still around out in Texas, but I haven't heard from him in years either. Anyway." Mo's mother met Mo's stare. "We both made some mistakes when you left the Institute. It was an abrupt change. You left a broken thirteen year old and came back four years later as a teenager that I did not really know. It would have taken more than I had then to make it work."
"It would have taken Dad."
"Maybe, but he wasn't around. As you constantly reminded me."
"I didn't mean to. At least, not always."
"Maybe. But it didn't really matter. Just being in my life was a constant reminder that he wasn't around anymore. That we would both be happier with him. That we couldn't cope with each other without him."
"Is that why you finally said it?"
"Said what?"
"That you wished I had died in the crash too."
"I said that?"
"Yeah. Right before I told you that I wished you'd been in the car with us. Which didn't help much."
"I remember you saying that, but don't remember telling you I wished that you had died."
"You did."
"I believe you." Now her mother looked down at the grass. "I've also learned a lot about who I am in the three plus years that you've been gone. I've had people show me the things that I block out because I don't want to deal with them. That has been painful. Ultimately good, but very painful in the moment. It's cost me some friends and solidified a few others." Looking up and sighing, Mo's mother said, "Point is, if it helps, I'm sorry for what I said. You were reminding me of a grief I had thought tucked away and I took it out on you."
"Thanks. It does. Help that is. And I'm sorry that I punished you for not being Dad."
"You know what?" Her mother said. "I think I believe you. I don't think that you're saying that just to get what you want from me."
Mo smiled. "I'm not. You're not Dad. You never were. And that's okay. I have no idea who you are now as a person, but you are my mother and that counts for something."
"And you're my daughter whom I brought into this world. Which also counts for something. It certainly counts for a few days of shelter. I see no reason that you can't call this home for a while."
"Thanks," Mo said. "Mom."
[1] Not to mention cliche. "It came to me in a dream"? Give me a break. #lampshadesrule
[2] And not just because it has the fewest humans per square mile of any of the lower 48, but also because Wyoming had decided, along with Idaho, to make itself a destination for the Disconnected Tourist movement. Huge sections of the state were declared Wireless Free Zones (not a big issue as most of those areas had never been Wireless Active Zones in the first place) including Yellowstone National Park and the entire city of Casper. A few of the smaller municipalities took it a step further and removed anything more bandwidth intense than a Plain Old Telephone Service (POTS). The larger areas kept their hardwired fiber systems in place as there was still some business to be done in the state.
