We have moved three times in the past month. I am honestly so sick and tired of moving all over God's green earth, I will literally pay my dad all the money I have to stay put for at least two months, because that would be a miracle. I mean, sure I understand that my dad's job requires him to go different places, but really? And I'm apparently "not old enough" to stay at home with Willie and take care of us. I turned seventeen two months ago dad! And we haven't had a home for more than a week on end so I can't get a proper job to show him that I can take care of myself. He says that this time will be different. That this time we will stay here for more than a year. Oh great, thanks dad! One year to get settled into this new town, make new friends, get a job, get settled into the school and all just to be zipped away all over again. I swear, I cannot take this anymore. I'm seventeen! I should be living my life not packing it up in boxes every couple weeks.
"Rose, what are you doing?"
"Nothing daddy." I didn't even bother looking up from my notebook. This little tiny journal that I keep in my purse all the time.
"You writing in your journal again?"
"Well, I'm done now." I closed the book, put the strap around it with my pencil and stuffed it back in my purse. I grabbed my phone and earplugs, trying to shut the world out. However, I was very rudely interrupted.
"Rose?" I pulled my plugs out and sighed. "We need to talk about this new place."
"Dad, everyplace is the same. What's different about this one?"
He just sighed. So I continued to shut the world out. Checked the back seat and still found Willie sleeping in his car seat with his bear. Looked back further and saw Bongo looking out off the side of the truck with his ears flopping in the wind and tongue sticking out. I just smiled and looked forward again.
Four and a half hours later we arrived at our new house. 22nd North & Maple Street in Rockport, Texas. On a little tiny street, two blocks away from Willie's new school and three blocks away from mine. The houses on the street were moderately good sized houses, not super big and fancy but I guess that's what you get in Texas. I jumped out of the car and headed to Willie's door.
"Hey champ. How was your sleep?" I patted his shoulder and unbuckled his seatbelt.
"Where are we?" his voice was all sleepy and his eyes barely open. "We at our new house yet?"
"Yes we are. And Bongo is super excited to get in the house and see your new room," and this little tiny smile appeared on his little tiny face. I looked over at dad at the back of the truck. "I'll get his stuff, can you just put all the other boxes in their right spots and I'll help you sort them after." He just nodded and continued taking boxes out of the back.
"Okay champ, let's go." I picked him up and almost tripped on Bongo in the process.
"Are we going to stay here for long?" I could tell his eyes were open, because I could feel his bear hitting my back a couple times before I saw Bongo run into the house, with the bear.
"I don't know, maybe."
He wrapped his arms around my neck. "Will I make friends this time?"
"I hope so champ, I really do." I passed my dad in the living room and all I could hear was him sigh. I knew he was worried about us and I knew that he didn't want to make us move again. I also knew that he was going to try and do everything in his power to make us stay here as long as possible, just so we could be happy. But ever since mom died, our house has gotten a little less happy every year.