G4+Group+5

Keep the Change Maggie Birmingham-Corbett, Chase McGrath, and Donnie Puryear   

  It seems like yesterday, I was out riding dirt bikes with my brother, like those boys in Central Park. Kyle and I were constantly together, always creating trouble around Hazard. Things are different now. I grew up and moved away; he stayed in that little town with no ambitions and no future. He was so naïve about the modern world to think that Dad’s store would ever make him real money. He should’ve been smart like me and gone to college. I knew that there was nothing in that town, and that in order to succeed, I had to get out of there. “Driver, let me out here! This is my stop.” I paid the driver, without a tip, of course, and stepped out onto 21st street. Taking the elevator up to my floor, I prepared myself for another day at the office. I had been in my office for about a half hour before Jenny, my secretary, burst through my door, looking distressed. “Mr. Duke, you have a call on line 6!” I asked if she could take a message, saying that I was busy, but Jenny was very adamant that I take this call immediately.  As I picked up the phone, I did not know what to expect. I heard my brother Kyle’s voice. It had been months since we last talked. "Dad died." "What?" I asked. "Yea, he died this mornin'. Heart attack." It was silent for a minute that seemed to drag on for a lifetime. My mind was racing. I finally asked, "When is the funeral?" "It's gon' be here, end of the week." "All right, I’ll have my assistant book a flight home. Do you mind if I stay with you?" "Nope, that’s fine with me." “All right. See you then.”

Stunned, I hung up the phone. Silence filled the room.

“Jenny, book me a flight to Kentucky. I’m going to take a break now.”

Waiting for my flight at the airport, I watched people as they passed. Everyone looked so preoccupied and busy, but I couldn’t tell why anyone was there. I wondered if those who saw me could tell I was going to my dad’s funeral. I wondered if they could tell I hadn’t been back to my hometown since I took off to escape from the vortex that is Hazard; that I had been so anxious to get out that I didn’t even say good-bye to my closest friends. // "Everyone will have forgotten that by now," // I thought. // "I mean, it was years ago…they probably don’t even remember who I am." // When I arrived at the small airport the next afternoon, Kyle was waiting for me. He looked exactly the same as he had when I left Hazard: poorly dressed, with messy hair and a silly grin on his face. 

"What’s up, Austin? I ain’t seen you in forever!" Kyle said. "Hey, Kyle." "How you been?" "I've been doing well. I've been really busy with work." "Hop in the truck, Austin."

The ride was extremely awkward. Neither of us knew how to talk and react to each other. We had not been together in so long, yet there was nothing to say. I was relieved when we finally arrived at Kyle's house.

We climbed into his rusty, old pick-up, and drove silently to his house. When we arrived, I carried my black leather suitcase into the house and began to unpack.

"Dinner is in three hours, Austin! We're havin' chili with our old friends, the Allens," Kyle yelled up the stairs at me.

// "Oh goody," // I thought. //"// // I get to see the people I left eight years ago without saying good-bye." // 

After reading court reports for a few hours, I went downstairs for dinner. I wasn’t looking forward to it, especially because I wasn’t the nicest I could’ve been to the Allens the last time I saw them. // "Do it for Dad¸" // I told myself. // "It’s only one weekend." //  I heard a knock on the door. “Kyle, get the door!” I shouted up the stairs to Kyle’s bedroom. He came rushing down the stairs, threw an agitated look in my direction, and opened the door. “Hello, Mrs. Allen! Well, golly, Ben, you’ve grown so tall since last I saw you!” Kyle exclaimed. “Great t’ see you, Mr. Allen.” “Kyle, how many times have I told you to call me Ellen?!” laughed Mrs. Allen. I shook hands with Ben and Mr. Allen, and hugged Mrs. Allen, who was a member of my old church. The three of them all had somber expressions fixed on their faces, as if they expected me to be distraught over Dad’s passing and wanted to be supportive. I wanted to communicate somehow that I wasn’t really bothered, that I had never been close to the man, so I smiled at little Ben. He merely looked at the floor, like he wasn’t sure how to respond politely. “Well, let’s sit down and start eatin’!” said Kyle. The chili was from Dad’s old recipe. I hadn’t had chili in years, unless you count that mess that comes on hot dogs from the stand on the corner of 21st and 8th. Kyle put Fritos, sour cream, and a handful of cheese on his. I stuck with plain. “So, Austin, we haven’t heard from you in awhile; what’ve you been doin’?” asked Mr. Allen. “Oh, well, after college, I received a scholarship to Fordham School of Law. Now, I work in New York City, specializing in criminal defense. You remember the case last year about the man accused of decapitating his wife?” “Yeah, I believe I do. Was he the one whose fingerprints they found all over the murder weapon, but the defense held that it wasn’t the real murder weapon, that it could’ve been somethin’ differnt? I couldn’t believe that jerk got away with it!” “Yes, that case. I worked on the defense of the husband.” “Oh.” Silence. “Well, who’s hungry for pie?” said Kyle, hastily. “Me! Me!” exclaimed little Ben. Everyone served themselves. I ate in silence, preferring to listen to Kyle talking to Mr. Allen about life in Hazard. I wanted to catch up on what had happened to the people I used to know since I left. Nothing had changed. Around 9:00, it was time for Ben to get to bed. We said good-bye to the Allens, and told them we would see them at the funeral the next day.  

The butterflies were going wild inside my stomach as Kyle and I loaded onto his pickup. It was finally time to face my past, and I wasn't quite sure if I was prepared. But ready or not, we had already pulled onto the dirt road that ran through town. As Kyle turned the corner and pulled into the old funeral home's parking lot, I noticed a few familiar faces. “Maybe it will be good to see my old friends again,"  I thought to myself. I got out of the car and walked toward the throng of people, all huddled in front of the entrance in anticipation. My brother introduced me to everyone, but as soon as he spoke the name Austin Duke the smiles on everyone's faces disappeared. Wilson, one of my father's best friends, shook my hand and smiled, making an honest attempt to hide the disgust in his face. "Good to have ya back in Hazard, Austin," he said. I was touched by his gesture, and he was one of the few who were even remotely glad to see me. Unwilling to face the others, I shrunk back to Kyle's side, just now noticing his poor attire: a pair of grubby slacks, one of my father's old, plaid, collared shirts, and a faded tie. // "Dad would appreciate the effort, but I am less than enthusiastic about being seen with someone like that," // I thought to myself. Lucky for me, the entry door to the funeral home opened, creaking with every inch. Everyone filed in and silently shuffled through the musty corridor. // "Wow," //<span style="FONT-FAMILY: 'Candara','sans-serif'; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial"> I thought, // "Pretty reverent for a bunch of farmers." // <span style="FONT-FAMILY: 'Candara','sans-serif'; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial"> Our guide led us to the visitation room where we all lined up. I filed up toward the casket, not knowing what to expect. I had never been very close to my dad, but still thought seeing his body would be difficult. All of the sudden, I was standing over the casket and forcing myself to look down. His face was loose and expressionless, his body laid carefully out inside the casket. His eyes were closed, and his navy blue suit was pressed and starched, much cleaner than it had been in years. I wanted to say something, to make some gesture of lasting affection, but couldn’t think of anything suiting. **“I will miss him, I think,”** I thought. Then, I moved on, so the tearful old lady behind me could have her turn. After a lovely service involving lots of candles, crying, and old hymns I barely remembered, we proceeded to the funeral reception at the only restaurant in town. I sat down at the bar and ordered a scotch. A few minutes later, an elderly lady I recognized as one of my distant aunts sat down in the stool next to me. “Why, hello there, deary! Do you remember me? I’m your Aunt Carol,” she said. “Hello, Aunt Carol,” I said, feeling obligated. “I’m so sorry for your loss, Austin. You know, after you left for college, your father was never quite the same. He said he was very happy that you were going out to make something of yourself, but everyone could tell that he missed having you around. I think deep down, he truly loved you, even if he was never all that warm towards you. It would mean so much to your father to see that you came all this way for his funeral.” She stood up and walked away, not expecting a response. No one else came to my section of the bar, so I had time in which to think about what she had said. My father had truly loved me, and what had I done? I left him behind me to go make money. My apartment and my money in New York seemed so far away. The next day, I said good-bye to Kyle and took my flight back to New York. He stood waving on the loading deck until I went around the corner. I slept most of the flight, and was surprised when I heard the pilot's voice on the intercom saying we were almost there. After picking up my luggage, I hailed a taxi to take me home. I asked the taxi driver if he could please take me to my apartment on 9th Street. He told me he would be glad to take me. After that, neither of us spoke. "Here's your stop, sir," the taxi driver informed me. I thanked him, handed him 50 dollars, and told him to keep the change. As I walked into my apartment, it didn't feel the same as it had before. Something was different. I walked up to my room and began unpacking. When I had finished, I began to sit down and take out some court reports. But suddenly, I stopped. There was someone I needed to talk to. I picked up the phone and dialed his number. "Hello?" He said. He sounded confused. "Hey Kyle! It's Austin."