Homecoming
The sun beams down harshly, nearly blinding drivers on the road. It’s been a long year, and yet it’s only August. Christina, our beautifully angelic full-bodied friend, is on her way home. It’s been so long since she last stepped foot in town and, honestly, she’s not expecting anyone to have remembered her.
Christina yawns and sticks her hand in a bag of chips that is in her lap. The bag’s almost empty. Christina frowns, shoves the last few chips into her mouth, and tosses the empty bag into the back where a bunch of other snack wrappers lie abandoned. Christina licks the salt off her fingers as she watches carefully, holding the steering wheel steady with one hand.
“Well, I’ll be…” Christina says and belches. “Ugh. Excuse me…”
‘Christhill Ranch’ reads an old worn out sign coming up with an arrow pointing to an exit that not many people take.
“Christhill Ranch?! I’m surprised that place is still open. I haven’t been there since I was a child,” Christina says, putting her saliva covered fingers on the steering wheel. “I’ve got to remind myself… Probably nobody I grew up with is likely still around… They’ve all grown up, probably have jobs, lives, places to be other than here… At the same time, though… I kind of just want to take one more look at the place… It’s not far from the college campus, either.”
Christina turns at the last second down the exit. There’s still plenty of time to claim a dorm room; checking out the old ranch is a higher priority at the moment. The road becomes more rugged, transitioning from smooth asphalt to mere dirt and gravel. The car shudders and jostles loudly as it first descends, and then ascends to the hill the ranch is set upon.
“Nineteen years ago, I came here for the first time. I barely remember much from my first visit,” Christina monologues. “I kept coming back. I went from having to be held up on a small pony, to being able to ride a horse with the big kids. A lot changed over the years, but there was always one person who was with me… Purcell. Now, he’s PROBABLY not here. That would be weird if he-”
“CHRISTINAAAAAAAA!” a voice cries out suddenly.
“-was here,” Christina finishes her thought and parks next to some old rugged pick up trucks.
“WHERE THE HECK HAVE YOU BEEN ALL MY LIFE?!” Purcell yells, looking furious.
“PU…” Christina says, an old nickname, still stunned to see her old friend.
“Get out of the car. NOW!” Purcell yells.
“Okay, okay, PU… I’m getting out…” Christina says and emerges, spilling snack wrappers everywhere.
“My you have grown…more beautiful…” Purcell says, his aura changing from anger to stunned amazement.
“I’m going to be honest. I was not expecting to see you here,” Christina says. “I just saw the old road sign and came to look back at the old ranch. For nostalgia.”
“I have waited, every single day, knowing you would return here for me. And here you are. Did you not ever think of me? Am I not important to you?” Purcell whines.
“PU, they say every woman should have at least one male friend…and that would be you,” Christina says and hugs Purcell tightly. “It’s good to see you again.”
“Yeah, friend, okay, sure, whatever… I think we’re more than just friends. Come on. No way would you return here to see me just as friends!” Purcell says.
“Actually, I’m going to college in town,” Christina corrects her old friend.
“Oh yeah? You’ll do alright. You know what they say…” Purcell says and his right eye bulges a bit and shifts out of alignment with his left eye. “C’s Get Degrees!”
“What are you doing with your face?” Christina asks, slightly horrified.
“What? What do you mean? My face is fine?” Purcell says as his face reverts back to normal.
“Never mind,” Christina says with a sigh.
“Funny. I’m also going to college. Going to collect a second degree!” Purcell says with a grin.
“Oh yeah? What did you do with your first degree?” Christina asks.
“Well…” Purcell says, thinking back.
A vision comes to mind of just barely passing College in the first place. Upon receiving a degree in a Psychology Major, Purcell proceeds to not finding a job. Anywhere. Nobody wants Purcell as their psychiatrist and not even research labs want his insight either. After trying and failing over and over again, Purcell proceeds to taking a job in fast food, but his bad attitude makes him an unpleasant coworker. In the end, Purcell comes and collapses at the door to Christhill Ranch, begging and pleading for employment.
“…I just think that maybe getting a second degree would help me get a job, you know? Why does it matter?” Purcell asks.
“I suppose it doesn’t matter too much. Wait, so are you going to the same college as me?” Christina asks.
“Looks like it! And, last I checked, they still have an open room next to mine! It’ll be just like the old days! Remember when you were little and you kept insisting on getting the top bunk and I’m like “You can barely even run without falling on your face!”? Good times, good times. Except now you’ll have your own room,” Purcell says. “Come with me. I need to show you how my den has been looking! Of course, though, I’m going to be staying on campus for the most part soon! I wish I could take all my stuff with me, but it’s much too big and heavy.”
Not seeing any other option and curious as to what her old friend has been up to, Christina follows after Purcell. The man leads her all the way to an old run down cabin. Then, entering, he takes her all the way to his own personal room. Purcell grins awkwardly and opens the door with a loud squeak.
Inside, there’s a treadmill, an old TV, an old bed, a worn out beanbag chair, an old splintery table, and a dull lamp that appears to be on its final leg. There’s also a bench press and a chin-ups bar in here. The room isn’t very big and the exercise equipment takes up most of the space. Purcell lovingly runs a hand across the control panel of his treadmill.
“Well, I see now why you can’t bring your stuff,” Christina says.
“Welcome to my den! It’s cozier than it looks! I spend many hours training my body! See how well I have done?” Purcell asks, flexing, but he hardly has any muscle mass, just skin and bones.
“I- Uhhh, I don’t think you need any more exercise? You’re so skinny,” Christina says, astonished.
“Christina! It’s not about losing weight… I’m well past that. It’s about maintenance! They say your body is the temple of God! So I want to keep my body pristine!” Purcell says, whipping off his shirt to reveal his ribs are very prominent.
“Why do you do this to yourself…?” Christina asks.
“To answer your question, I suppose I blame my father for my state of being. Ever since my mother died, he’s been distant. Those times we spent together here when we were kids? It’s because he abandoned me. He would leave me here for months at a time. I began hating myself, wishing I could do something, anything, to gain his favor. It never worked. Eventually, I decided, I’m going to love myself even if nobody else loves me! I will perfect my body for the only one who cares. I still don’t visit my father that often. I’m annoyed. If anything at all reminds him of my mom, a “dead wife montage” begins. One time, he had TWO montages overlapping! That’s way too dank if you ask me,” Purcell says with a huff. “Yeah, I’m sad mom died, but can he just be my dad and stop being weird? Apparently not.”
“My dad was awful, too. He was abusive, harsh, and stubborn. My mom was too afraid to ever go against his judgement,” Christina replies.
“I still don’t understand why you would abandon me? I was suffering already…” Purcell whines.
“That wasn’t my choice to make. My mom finally went against my father, won the court case, and escaped with my sister and I… If I had the choice, I never would have left you,” Christina whispers.
“I suppose I should be happy for you, then? Even though I’ve had to suffer alone all these years,” Purcell says.
“I was 7. You think a 7 year old has control over whether she moves or not?” Christina presses.
“Well, you’re back now,” Purcell says. “Feel free to join my exercise routines, as well. Hah hah. I could use a companion.”
“You could use some rest. As my sister would say, you are perfect as you are as we all were made in the image of God,” Christina notes.
“I’m fine. Don’t worry about it,” Purcell mumbles.
