Time Drifters

The sky was just starting to turn from black to a deep blue as I quietly turned the key and opened the front door. It was 4:45am and I’d had a long, cold day already. The light in the study was out and everything was quiet, thankfully. I had just made it to the landing when I heard my mother.

“Liam?” she whispered, emerging from their bedroom. “What are you doing up, sweetheart?”

Turning off the lights, was what first came to mind. But I remembered I was supposed to be sleepy.

“Bathroom,” I said, thanking Heaven that I hadn’t gone with my impulse to remove my shoes at the door downstairs. But I didn’t want her to notice them either.

She walked towards me.

“Night-night,” I said, going for the door to my bedroom.

“You want me to tuck you in again?” she asked as she started to shuffle sleepily towards me.

“Mom,” I whined, implying that I wasn’t a kid anymore. Truthfully, I remembered when she used to do it, and I really would have liked to have that feeling of being secured in place.

“Sorry,” she whispered, still coming towards me as I shimmied into the frame of my door. She reached out and ruffled my hair and then pulled me closer to her. She kissed my head and gave me a light hug.

“I forget you’re growing up some times,” she said, dreamily. Her nightie smelled soft, like fresh laundry. “You’re so cold,” she said, breaking from the hug and touching my forehead. “You Okay?”

“Totally fine,” I said quickly.

“Mmhm,” she cooed, holding me for another moment. My eyes were adjusting to the darkness again and I could see the outline of the window frames downstairs and the silhouette of Mom’s head, her hair ruffled and spiky from sleep.

“See you soon,” she said, moving along to the steps. “Sleep well.”

“’Night, Mom,” I whispered.

I wanted to ask what she was doing up, but I knew a close call and a clean getaway when I had it. In that moment, I actually wanted to fess up and tell her everything. She’d love the adventure, I was sure. Mr. Danby said that friends have common experiences and I knew, between the two of my parents, Mom would be the one to jump on board with Drifting, if she were able to do it.

But since I couldn’t tell her, I also got sad. The more I Drifted, the less we’d have in common. I didn’t want to lose our connection, but I could see how it might be possible. I’d need to make sure we did other things together. There was still time for that, but for the moment, sleep.