In that respect, I guess I was a drifter, too. I could never stop long enough to understand or help her. Just pried her from my thumb like that last mouse we had to let go, eyes big and desperate, wishing someone would see how bad he wanted to stay.
He told my mom he had a surprise for her, pulled up his sleeve to show a tattoo on his bicep saying her name. He just got married on Saturday, I could see my mom’s name peeking out from under his sleeve in the picture. The second time was walking through a car dealership on his shoulders. We bought a truck that day, that he later sold for crack.
It’s how they always want to run. Run to the playground, run to the neighborhood pool, run to the construction site that was half-finished when the builders gave up on it completely.
At a certain age, I think everyone ends up being from somewhere else. You were born downstate, or you're going to college on the opposite coast.