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Oak Mansion itself, in all its “glory”. 

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1. Care

Oak. It’s always about oak. Whether Oak Crossing, Oak Tree House, or Oak Manor, I swear that retirement homes must have some sort of contract or something that they must incorporate oak somewhere in the name. Anyways, I have to admit, Oak Mansion is a great name, makes me think of the finer things in life that I probably will never have.

Mind you, I said great name, not great place; when I arrived four years ago on this very hour for my first day of work, the place certainly did not look a “luxurious place to work in” or whatever bullshit Brenda the hiring manager told me over the phone. Rather, it looked like the rotting pit of putrid rat turds that I would find out over time this place was. Pardon my French, by the way- working here and a shitty upbringing brings up shitty language, I guess.

...Speaking of shit, that’s literally the first smell that came to my senses today when I entered my little hellhole; or maybe, it’s purgatory, what with the blinding white lights that seem to refuse to give anyone the actual time of day. Anyways, I guess it doesn’t really matter, especially because I just knew who the smell had to be coming from… freakin’ Steve. It’s not fair, can’t he control his bowels for one more hour every day so I DON’T have to deal with his literal and metaphorical crap? I swear, one of these days, I will revolt from this place… but for now, I still really need the paycheque.

Quickly, I pass the front desk, doing the briefest nod to Jackie, who is sitting with her headphones in her ear. I do a sharp turn through the hallway, dashing for Steve’s room, when I almost collide into Alice. She looks at me, poor old hag, with those big blue eyes, acting like she might recognize me from somewhere that she can’t quite pinpoint. “Where’s the beach?” She asks me innocently, and I have to admit, I am surprised. First new question she has given me in awhile… I point to the front desk and she begins to hobble over there.

Normally, I should redirect her back to her room, but honestly Jackie seemed kind of like a bitch today and should have to deal with her. I rush over to Steve’s room, where sure enough, Steve is lying in a pile of his own feces. “Son, please help me out”, he asks me with those pleading eyes of his. It’s funny how tables can so easily turn; I remember a time when my deadbeat dad would die if any form of affection was shown. 

Now that he was here now though and I had to take care of him, Steve’s tune had changed… anyways, joke is on me I guess because I still have to clean his shit everyday since he invaded my work-life by getting himself committed here.  I light myself a cigarette (not allowed, but it’s not like anybody pays close attention), when I hear the smoke alarm of the residence go off. Fucking classic, they had to finally fix the alarm… well, it doesn’t matter. 

How big of a deal could it be?

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Play with Story #2 (The Drive) to help set the scene of Tommy’s journey. 

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2. The Drive

Look, I know I will never win the “son of the year” award.

I was always breaking curfew, getting into fights with my mom, and generally getting into all sorts of shenanigans that you may or may not judge me too hard on. In my defence, there was absolutely NO way that I could ever reach my mom’s level of sainthood, so why even bother; a single mother, taking care of me and my grandparents who moved from Greece to stay with us, and having to deal with a part-time job? Honestly, I would have lost my mind; which is pretty ironic, considering the dementia she got. 

Sorry, that was unfair. Let me start again- like, I know that I did a lot of shitty stuff in the past, but I swear that now I am trying to make up for them. Like, take this moment, where I am taking a Saturday off to visit mom in her old-age home in my dingy little Honda Civic. I mean, sure, I put her in the old-age home, but it would have been SO unfair for me to take care of her. Why should I have the burden of taking care of her and not be able to live my own life… it’s what she would have wanted. 

God, I didn’t mean it that way, it’s just… it’s hard. I don’t know what my brain is honestly even going on about half the time, but I do realize that I need to visit more… that’s got to count for something… right?

Look, I don’t even know anymore sometimes. I am 32 years old, with a crappy dead-end job, no wife, no kids… my only family left is my mom and who knows how much time she has left before she dies and leaves me to be alone in this world? God, I’m so selfish. I don’t even know though… maybe I should have taken care of her more; home just isn’t the same without her.

Anyways, the past is in the past, I guess… what is important now is that I’m going to pay her a proper visit to that old-age home and give her some happiness. Honestly, I wish I had picked a better place for her, the workers always seem so depressed, but it is honestly the best I can possibly afford, and I am sure she’s in good hands. 

I am almost here, just focus on what you’re going to say- wait, what is that sound- Jesus, is it coming from the old-age home? It can’t be, the home is safe, they have security, it’s all good. Fuck, if anything happens to mom, I will never be able to forgive myself, I will- god it’s happening outside the home! Calm down, I’m almost here, it’s fine- wait is that a person collapsed on the ground outside? Please god, please god, please god… shit someone’s collapsed, if it’s mom…

Mom?    

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Play with Story #3 (Home). Very thematically appropriate song that captures part of Alice’s mood. 

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3. Home

Home. 

When I open my eyes, I can hear the sounds of birds chirping and rays of sunlight peeking into my room from the window. Today feels unusually perfect, like something I haven’t felt since I was a child. I remember those days like I am living them now…  my grandpa always said, “Greece is a paradise that everyone wants to be in and never want to leave”. 

Still, I knew I had to get up and get Tommy’s clothes ready, bless his heart. When I get out of the bed, everything around me seems to have a strange white glow to it. Still, it’s best not to question things… my grandpa always told me, “Greece is a paradise…” I can’t seem to remember the rest, but it doesn’t matter, forgetfulness is something that comes. I hobble over to the doorway, expecting to find my kitchen, where I find myself in a white hallway. This isn’t my home… where is it, and where is Tommy? Bless his heart, I have his clothes ready, and I need to get him ready for school. 

Wait, what was I worried about again? 

Anyways, it doesn’t matter; school FINALLY has finished and I will be able to go and have some fun in the beach, with Gianna and Eleni. I am hitting the streets, but find myself to be lost, when I encounter a strange man in a white coat. “Excuse me, sir, where’s the beach,” I ask him in a polite tone, as my father had taught me. He points me to the end of the hallway… 

Wait, what is the hallway doing here? This isn’t home, where am I? Where is Tommy, he was always so hard to raise, bless his soul, but he meant well, and it must have been hard for him to not have his dad around… wait, I think I see the beach just outside those doors. Maybe Gianna and Tommy are there…

Wait, who is Tommy again?

 Anyways, it doesn’t matter because I’m home now and I can finally see my loved ones. I pass by the lifeguard, at least I think she is the lifeguard, she is wearing some sort of headphones like the ones Tommy had and make my way to the beach. Except it’s not the beach, it’s a parking lot. What am I doing here, I am scared… where is everyone, this isn’t home. Except, maybe it is. I close my eyes, and open them to see the waves crashing and hear the birds chirping, just like when I was a kid. Suddenly, I hear this giant noise coming from behind me. I don’t even know where it is coming from, but it is too much… I start falling into the ground, and I think the last thing I see is Tommy in the distance.

I smile to myself.

I am home… home, sweet home.