Welcome Home, Stranger

The man walked against the wind, down the snow-covered road, his duffel bag slung over his shoulder, as he approached the lonely house on the snow-covered farm. He walked down the long driveway, up the front porch steps, and lifted his fist to give the door a knock, but before he did, he looked down at the doormat. The man stepped off the doormat, taking a moment to read the “Welcome Home” print on it. He smirked at that, stepped back on top of it, and knocked on the door.

The man could hear a woman inside shout, “One moment,” so he waited. He waited so long that he was about to knock again, but then the door opened, and the man saw why he had to wait. The woman who opened the door was in her fifties, and the man’s eyes flung to the cane that she seemed to be using to support most of her weight.

“What happened? Why are you walking with a cane?” said the man. He looked from the cane to the woman’s face.

“Well…” said the woman, “I was in an accident some years ago.”

“Oh,” said the man. “I’m sorry.”

“My name is Ellen Mercer,” said the woman. “If you’re with Jehovah’s Witness, I told y’all to stop coming by here. My husband doesn’t like it.”

The man gave a crooked, incredulous smile and said, “I know it’s been a while, but don’t you recognize your own son? It’s me, Mom. It’s Eli.”

Ellen was gracious enough to invite the man into her home. The man left his duffel bag by the door and found himself sitting in her living room, sipping tea, and nibbling on gingerbread cookies. Looking around the room, the man appreciated seeing all the Christmas decorations the family had put up. Only the tree was missing.

Ellen hadn’t spoken much with the man once the conversation got past the refreshments she provided him and the weather outside. The man felt that maybe he should start a discussion about something or another, but he kept failing to conjure up the courage. Ellen sat upright in a recliner on the opposite side of the room, and an awkward silence grew stale between them. The silence was washed away when the sound of a truck approaching the house could be heard.

“That must be Tom and June,” said Ellen, as she maneuvered her way out of the recliner. She hobbled her way to the front door as fast as she could and opened it. Ellen gazed outside, waiting for Tom and June, as the freezing weather blew past her and into the house. The man was even starting to get cold and wished she would just close the door until the people were ready to come in.

“Woman, what are you doing letting all that cold air in?” The man heard Tom’s distant voice say.

“We have a visitor,” replied Ellen. 

“Who is it?” the man heard a woman approaching the door ask. Still seated, the man saw the young woman enter the doorway and freeze at the sight of him, as she held the front end of a rugged pine tree. 

“Keep moving, June,” said Ellen, as she pushed the young woman along. “You’re keeping your father out in the cold.” June eventually started moving again, keeping her eyes fixed on the man as long as she could. The bottom of the pine tree entered the doorway with Tom carrying it, and as Tom stopped to look at the man sitting in his living room, the man could hear Ellen say to Tom, “Eli in there says he’s our son.”

Later, the man found himself sitting at the dining table, inhaling mashed potatoes, gravy, turkey, and peas that Ellen had prepared for her family. The man couldn’t remember the last time he had a good home-cooked meal. As he continued to gobble up his food, he noticed that Tom, Ellen, and June hardly touched their plates; they were too busy staring at him.

Tom cleared his throat and said, “I think we’ve been hospitable.”

“Tom,” chimed in Ellen.

“No,” said Tom. “We’ve been hospitable, and now it’s time to ask some questions.” Tom glared at the man and asked, “Boy, what the hell are you doing here?”

The man looked around the table nervously, searching for a lifeline to pull him out of the moment. He replied to Tom, “What do you mean? I’m your son. I thought you’d be happy to see me home. I know it’s been a while, but –”

Tom interrupted the man and said, “I don’t have a son.”

The man gave another searching look around the table. He said to Tom, faintly, “I don’t know why you have to be like this.”

Tom inhaled until his lungs were full, clearly prepared to bulldoze the man with words, but before he could, Ellen reached out to him and said, “Tom, please.” Tom grunted and turned his head. He started rubbing a large scar on his temple, and the man couldn’t help but wonder how Tom got such a nasty-looking scar. Ellen turned her attention to the man and said, “Why don’t you tell us where you came from, Eli. Where were you staying before you came here? Have you been living in Missoula?”

The man looked down at the table and said, “Well, before I arrived today, I had been sleeping on buses for a few days just trying to get here from Fayetteville.” The man looked around the table and added, “In North Carolina. After I left home, I went to New York, but things didn’t quite work out, so I joined the army. They sent me overseas, and it was all going pretty good until my Humvee ran over a landmine. I was almost out, too; only had three months left in my tour. I was the only one in the Humvee to survive, but it put me in a coma for five years. Five years. And when I wake up, they tell me that they had no luck getting in touch with my family. Maybe they couldn’t get in touch with you, maybe you just didn’t care, but I was just happy to be alive, and I’ve done a lot of growing up, so I decided it was time to forgive, forget, and head on home. Next thing, I was on the grueling bus ride from North Carolina to West Montana, and now I’m sitting here with all of you acting like you don’t even know me.”

“We’re not acting, son,” said Tom, slapping his hands on the table. “We don’t know you. And come to think of it, I remember some years ago getting calls from some army fella telling me my son was in a coma. He was just as confused as you are now, because, like I told him, I don’t have a son.”

The man sprang up from his chair and said, “I see now how it’s going to be. I should have never came back here. Don’t worry, I won’t be coming back again. The man stormed out of the dining room, snatched up his duffel bag, and slammed the front door shut on his way out.”

The man walked down the long driveway to the road. Once he reached the road, he just stood there. Standing in the snow, thinking of where to go next was hard enough, but the wind made it all the worse. The man heard some footsteps approaching from behind him. He turned around and saw it was June, probably sent out there to shoo him away from the property. The man stood his ground, and June walked right up to him, looked him in the eyes, and threw her arms around him.

“I’ve missed you terribly,” said June.

Confused, the man slowly slid his arms around June. He closed his eyes, and for a moment, nothing else mattered. The moment passed like the wind across his prickling face, and the man pulled June off of him. He looked her in the eyes and said, “Wait, why couldn’t you do this in there? All of you seemed like you were happy to be rid of me.”

June shook her head and said, “You don’t understand.”

“It all looked pretty clear to me,” replied the man. “They acted like they didn’t even know me. I’ve let the past go; why can’t they?”

“They weren’t acting,” replied June. “They don’t know you.”

“Of course they don’t,” said the man, “but couldn’t they at least try. Is that too much to ask?”

“Eli,” said the woman, grabbing the man’s arm and glaring into his eyes, “they literally don’t remember who you are. When they found out that you had taken off for the airport, they were speeding trying to get there before your plane took off. There was ice on the roads, Pa wasn’t caring about red lights, and they were hit by a semi on the corner of Spruce and Higgins. It took them months to get out of the hospital, and then they were in rehab for years. I can’t begin to tell you what hell all that was; I couldn’t even finish school. And they still have problems, you saw them. They didn’t remember some things, one of which was you. If you hadn’t thrown away all your stuff and all your pictures before you left, maybe it would have jogged their memory. But with the way things were, the doctor suggested I do my best not to bring you up until you came back, but you never did come back, not for ten years. After that long, why did you have to come back at all?”

The man took all this in for a moment, as the whistle of the wind was the only sound between them. He finally brought himself to utter, “I…”

“You didn’t even try to write me,” said June. “Not as much as a phone call to let me know you were still alive. I know you wanted to get away from them, but why did you want to forget about me, huh?”

The man could see June's eyes begin to moisten, so he wrapped his arms around her and said softly, “I never forgot about you, June bug… I couldn’t if I tried.”

“Hey, what are you doing?” the man heard Tom shout. He looked over and saw Tom approaching, angrily. “June, you alright?” said Tom.

“I’m fine, Pa,” replied June, wiping her face. “I need to tell you something.” She pointed to the man and continued, “This man –”

“I was just confused, sir,” said the man. “I apologize for the inconvenience.” June stared at him, shocked and confused. The man stared back at her calmly and said, “You have a beautiful home,” before turning away and walking off down the snow-covered road.