25 Liberty Way

It was raining, it was always raining. Ernie hated the rain. He
hated the way it would drip of your hair and onto your ears. Little
things like that really irritated Ernie. He had wondered for years why
they didn't just build a roof over the forecourt. It seemed like such a
simple idea, but everything seemed simple to Ernie.
"That's your tank full, have nice day now." Ernie said as he bent down
to address the driver.
"Thanks Ernie, you too" said the face, smiling back at Ernie with a
smug satisfaction.
The face belonged to Carl Miller. Ernie and Carl had been at high
school together. Ernie was the clever one who always scored high on the
tests. Carl didn't score high. Carl invariably scored low. Carl had
been coming to Ernie's gas station for a couple of years now, except it
wasn't Ernie's gas station, he was only the forecourt attendant. Every
time Carl came by the gas station he had a new car and a new woman in
the car, or so it seemed to Ernie. He always looked slick in his
designer suits and neat, slicked back hair. He was living with Ernie's
ex wife.
Ernie had been working at the same gas station for 3 years. He drove
the same beat up Chevy he drove at high school. He'd forgotten when is
last haircut had been. He only owned one suit, which was too small for
him and he'd married, and divorced, his only girlfriend. In the same
suit. By all accounts, Ernie hadn't changed.
Ernie hated the gas station. It reminded him of everything that was
wrong in his life. Whenever he saw a happy couple laughing and kissing
as he filled the tank, it reminded him of his own marriage, and the
messy separation that had ended it, just weeks ago. Every time he saw a
bunch kids crowding round the sweet stand, it reminded him of his own
kids. Josie aged 6. Casey aged 3. He wasn't allowed to see them
anymore, not since the court injunction. Finally, all those bigwig
executives with their fancy cars reminded him of what he could have
been, what he should be. Ernie needed to get away from the gas
station.

Later, plunging his hands into his pockets he felt his way among
lighters, cigarettes and keys to pull out a white piece of paper. The
piece of paper was about the size of a cigarette packet and had two
lines scrawled across it in thick blue ink:

Kevin Morrison
25 Liberty Way

These two lines were the key, the key to Ernie's escape. With these two
lines life would return to normal, Ernie thought. These two lines were
his father's address.
Ernie had just the one memory of his dad. A blurred, moustached, face
looking down at him in his cot. The faced had smiled at him and put a
pacifier into his mouth. It can't have been long after that that he
left.
He had left when Ernie was only a baby to take up a new life with the
woman behind the counter at the bakery. Holly was her name. Long blonde
hair and legs. She was a slut, or so Ernie was told.
Ernie and his mother had got by without Ernie's father well enough and
for long periods of time he could forget he even had a father, but
there were times when he couldn't help but wish he had a dad.
Ernie had big ambitions for himself. He knew he was better than the gas
station. He knew Carl wasn't good enough for whatever hotshot job he
did to afford those suits. He knew he could be a better a better
husband and dad than that creep. He knew he could blame his dad for
everything.
The way Ernie saw it, all his problems could be traced back to his
lack of a father. If he'd had a dad he wouldn't have been forced to
work in a dead end job to earn money. If he'd had a dad he might have
been a better father to his kids, he may even still have a wife. If
he'd had a dad things would have been different.
For 3 months now Ernie had been searching for his father. Looking
through family records, telephone books even walking up and down the
street with a photo of him in hand. It had been hard at first, but
slowly but surely he had narrowed the search down to just these two
lines.
He looked at the piece of paper in hand again. Turing the key in the
ignition of his rusty old Chevy, he considered again what he was about
to do. It suddenly occurred to him that he might be opening a whole can
of worms that didn't want opening. However, deciding that without his
father he would forever spend his days filling gas tanks, he pulled out
of the gas station and onto the freeway.

Liberty Way seemed nice enough. One of those typical suburban streets
with little green trees at exact intervals along each side of the
street. The houses on Liberty Way all seemed to look the same. Mostly
white bungalows each with the star spangled banner hung proudly
outside. He imagined it probably looked quite nice when it wasn't
raining, not the sort of place you'd expect to find a family
deserter.
25 Liberty Way wasn't like the other houses on the street. Maybe it
once was, but it stuck out like a sore thumb. The white picket fence
was more black than white and the garden path was obscured by overgrown
weeds. This was much more like the sort of place you'd expect top find
a family deserter.
Looking once more down the road, observing a big white removal van
apparently broken down outside the house next door but one, he made his
way through the weeds. The irony of the van was not lost on Ernie, but
he had bigger things on the agenda.
The door of 25 Liberty Way was green. Ernie hated green. It reminded
him of that nasty gunk-like stuff that grew at the bottom of a fish
tank if you didn't clean it. He hoped his dad wasn't a green type of
person. With this thought still in mind, he pressed the bell firmly. He
pressed it 5 times. No one answered.
He sat down on the stone porch, and stared blankly at the mail box
with its little red thing sticking up in the air. Was this it? Would he
never meet his father? Would his only memory of his father be of this
shit hole?
As he reached into his back pocket for his flask, so often his escape,
a face appeared over the fence.
"Is everything all right sweetie? Can I help ya?" inquired Mrs Crosby,
the little old lady from next door.
"Oh yeah, everything good. D'ya know the guy who lives here?" said
Eddie, already half knowing what answer he would get.
"Mr Morrison? I'm you've missed by a couple of months" she said.
"Oh. Do you his new address?" said Eddie, still hopeful.
"I don't think you understand. Mr Morrison is dead, has been for a
couple of months now" she replied.
That wasn't the reply Ernie had expected.
"Dead? Are you sure?" said Ernie, clinging onto his last bit of
hope.
"Quite sure. I'm sorry honey. Did you know him well?" she replied
softly.
"I was his son" he said, staring into the weeds.
"His son? He never mentioned that he had a son. He always said he
hated kids. Thought they were an expensive drain on resources." replied
Mrs Crosby.
Ernie stared by back at the door of 25 Liberty Way. Kevin Morrison was
a green type of person.
Ernie had been working at the same gas station for 3 years. He drove
the same beat up Chevy he drove at high school. He'd forgotten when is
last haircut had been. He only owned one suit, which was too small for
him and he'd married, and divorced, his only girlfriend, in the same
suit. By all accounts, Ernie hadn't changed.