“Ain’t no way I’m goin’ on that train.” He wouldn’t speak to his dad like that, but he knew his mom didn’t want him to go. “I’m gonna hate it there.”
“Tony, it’s only for the summer.” She barely slowed her pace.
“How come Gina ain’t goin’?”
“Your sister’s too young to travel.”
“And she ain’t the reason we movin’ again.” No one told him that, but it didn’t take a genius to figure it out. “Ain’t that right?”
“Tony, we’re all going to enjoy a fresh start and in the fall you’ll be in a new school and will make new friends.”
“I don’t want new friends.”
“Well, after a summer on the farm, you might think differently.”
“I’m gonna hate it.”
“You’ll come back even stronger. Let’s just hope you can channel all that energy into something… productive.”
He stuffed his left hand deep into his pocket and his right fist clenched his bag tighter while his worn sneakers scuffed the pavement. “Mom, I’m tellin’ ya, it wasn’t my fault.” His voice cracked, his eyes welling up. The train station loomed ahead, a monstrous brick beast inhaling and exhaling crowds through the humid city air.
His mom finally stopped and kneeled to face him. “Tony,” her voice softer now, “It doesn’t matter whose ‘fault’ it was.” She rested her hand on his shoulder. “What matters now is a chance to reset.”
He shrugged it off. “It’s always me, ain’t it?” Chaos seemed to find him, even when he tried to avoid it. “Something happens, and I’m the one who gets shipped off.”
“This isn’t a punishment, Tony,” she stood up and continued walking toward the station. “It’s an opportunity. Your Uncle Frank needs help on the farm, and you could benefit from a change of scenery. Clean air, hard work… it’ll do you good.”
“Or, I’ll just be miserable the whole time. Who cares about corn and cows, anyway?”
“You might be surprised,” she held him back before crossing the final intersection. “Your dad spent summers on a farm when he was your age. Said it made a man out of him.”
“Yeah, well, I ain’t Dad.” He kicked at a loose pebble, sending it skittering into traffic. “I’m gonna hate it.” It was like an incantation he repeated as a mental forcefield against the world. How is it that every adult was always so wrong?
The light changed and they approached the mouth of the beast. Before entering, she leaned closer and kissed him on the forehead. “Please, just try.”
He stood stiffly in her embrace. Despite his incantation — or because of it — he knew resistance was futile.
Inside, they were consumed by the stream of travelers. She took him to his platform and gave him a final hug. “Who knows, this could be an important trip for you.”
Tony boarded with the incantation repeating in his mind along with a stubborn frustration that he would endure, no matter what.
Later on, as the train’s hum dulled the incantation and his window saw the last of the concrete and asphalt replaced by ever-widening fields of green and open space, he began to experience an odd and unsettling sensation: he started to relax.
by George Alger
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