It was cold. The kind of cold that makes you want to burn yourself alive, not that Nathan needed another reason to want to die. A light rain had begun to fall, but he was under the tent so it really wasn't a bother. He stared at the wooden box as they lowered it into the ground, remembering the last words they'd spoken to each other.

"I love you," she'd said.

"I love you too, Mom," he'd smiled.

Somehow that didn't seem like enough, not then, and certainly not now. She was gone not too long after that, Nathan cried when the heart monitor flat-lined. Her hand was still in his, and he pulled it to his lips, kissing it lightly.

Now, here he was, watching them lower her into the grave, the cold biting into his face, rain falling on everything but him, wishing things were different. Her family was there, of course, all of them comforting him with hugs, kisses, words of wisdom, anything they could think to do or say. For Nathan it just seemed awkward. What do you say to an eighteen year old when they're putting his mother into the ground?

When the service was over Nathan walked to the car, he was sure he could never call it "his" car, just like he could never call the house "his", it just didn't seem right. Both the house and car were paid for, but he wasn't sure he could use either one. Just driving the car to the funeral made him feel guilty, like he hadn't earned it.

Sitting there, the rain beating against the windshield, Nathan cried his first tears. He folded his hands over the steering wheel, lowered his head and cried. They felt like little streams of lava as the flowed down his cheeks. He sat like that for a while, listening to the drops beat against the Toyota's frame. Finally he inserted the key, the engine roared to life, and he pulled away from his mother's final resting place.

As he drove home his mind wandered back to high school. It was not even a year behind him, but it already seemed like a distant memory. His mother had wanted him to go to college after graduation, but he didn't have time for that. Taking care of her was a full time job, not that he had minded. There were days when all he wanted to do was cry. To just crawl in her lap and sob like a two year old with a skinned knee. But he didn't, he was strong.

There was a reception at the house; everyone was there, of course. It was almost as if they were afraid to leave him alone. Since his mothers death there had been people in and out constantly, people checking up on him, dropping by, bringing food, the only time he ever got peace was when he slept, and even then he was somewhat restless.

Nathan let his body fall to the soft cushions of the living room sofa. His legs thanked him. People moved all around him, whispering about various topics, chewing on the finger foods his aunt had prepared. In his lap sat a small shoebox. It had been in the back of the car, behind the drivers seat. He wasn't sure what was inside, but he knew it had something to do with his father.

Nathan never knew his father, and his mom didn't ever discuss the subject. The few times in his life he'd ever asked the only answers he got were cold hard stares. Eventually he gave up on ever knowing who his dad was, and now here was the answer, daring him to look.

Slowly he peeled the lid off of the box, and surprisingly he found only a single letter. His eyes drifted slowly down the page, absorbing the letters but not grasping their meaning. Once, twice, a third time, still the words meant nothing. Finally, mouthing the words, he began to understand.

Nathan,
I'm sorry for what you're going through right now, I wish I could change things, but I can't. I love you; know that no matter what I love you. There were several times I wanted to tell you this, but courage was never my strong suit, so here goes. Your father's name is Nikodemus Orion. I can't tell you how good that felt. There's not much I can tell you about him, and some of the stuff I could, I'm not sure you want to hear. Let's just say it wasn't a lasting relationship, you were the only good thing to come of it, and leave it at that. I do know that the last time I heard anything about him, he was living in New York City, so…it's your choice really. It's in your hands now. I love you son, and I'm sorry.

The words felt heavy on his brain. The one thing he'd always wanted to know, and now all he wanted was for the knowledge to be gone. Suddenly he wanted to be anywhere but here. He turned his head towards the staircase to his room. Slowly he stood on shaky legs, walking upstairs.

There was a small balcony outside of Nathan's window. Sometimes when he'd get depressed, during his early high school days, he'd lay a blanket down and stare up at the stars. He hadn't done it in at least two years. Lying there, he began to count the twinkling lights that littered the night sky. The events of the day began to drift to the back of his mind.

He zipped up the coat he was wearing to fight the chill in the air. The stars began to take form, becoming constellations. Some Nathan was familiar with, others he knew nothing about. Eventually he closed his eyes and welcomed the sleep that took him.

He wasn't sure how long he was out, but the sound of car doors slamming and engines roaring to life woke him. He could hear their voices, each promising to call the other, to get together soon, and all the usual stuff. His Aunt Sally popped her head through the window.

"I thought I'd find you here Nate," she said.

"Yeah, I'm sorry, I just needed some peace and quiet," he responded, sitting up.

"I understand, you've had a tough day. Hell you've had a tough year. I want you to know how proud I am of you, and how proud your mother was."

Nathan stared blankly into her eyes; these were not words he wanted to hear. They would not make the pain go away. Then as if she were reading his mind…

"I know that doesn't help, it's going to be painful Nate. It's hard to live without the people you love, but your family is here for you, whether you want us to be or not," she laughed.

"Thanks Aunt Sally. I just need to be alone for awhile, I'll be alright, I promise."

"Okay, I'll be by in a few days to check on you, but call me if you need anything, love you."

"I love you too."

With that she left. Nathan heard her footsteps fall as she made her way downstairs, then the creak-slam of the door opening and closing. She got into her car, and he watched until her taillights were gone. He climbed back into the window, and into his bed. Once again sleep took him, and he welcomed the embrace.

The sunlight came too early, and the birds singing outside were just annoying. Nathan was never a morning person. Just like Mom, he thought. His lips curled downward at this thought, and he could feel tears welling up in his eyes.

No crying. That's what she had told him. He thought about her, sitting on the edge of his bed when he came home from school that day. No crying. She told him of her doctor's visit, about the tests they had run, about getting a second opinion, and about how there was nothing that could be done. No crying. She had leukemia, and it was going to kill her. That was a little over a year ago.

He walked downstairs and into the kitchen. His stomach was telling him it was time to eat, and all he had was Apple Jacks. He opened the refrigerator, pulled out the half gallon of milk, opened it, and was greeted by the foulest stench in the world. Nothing could turn his stomach more than sour milk.

Nathan threw the container into the sink, opened the cereal and began eating out of the box. There was a small television his mom had set up on the island in the middle of the room, Nathan grabbed the remote and turned it on. It was nine o'clock and he was sure Scooby was on somewhere.

When he found the channel, Nathan was instantly transported to his childhood. He was seven, laughing at those crazy detectives and their silly great dane. Mom was preparing breakfast and yelling at him to put his socks and shoes on so he wouldn't be late for school. The smell of pancakes and sausage filled the house along with his nostrils.

Nathan came back to the present with Shaggy screaming, "Zoinks!" Followed by a groovy little tune and a bunch of running. He threw a handful of cereal down his gullet, taking very little time to actually chew it. He would probably choke one day, that's what his mom always told him.

Dammit, stop thinking like that, he thought to himself. She's gone get over it. The pep talk didn't help. Of course not, like his aunt said, it's hard to live without the people you love. The escapades of a bunch of weird teenagers and their dog suddenly seemed uninteresting, and his appetite was lost.

Standing up, Nathan began to wander silently around the house. Pictures hung on the walls, eyes from the past extracting memories from his brain. The old was everywhere in this house, suffocating him, and just when he thought it would kill him he saw a lifeboat. The letter from his mother was still sitting inside the box on the couch. He walked slowly over to pick it up, reading it once more.

New York City. The words echoed in his brain, reminding him of an old commercial. New York City! A few men would sing, and then another would say, get a rope. He couldn't remember what it was for, just that it was funny.

"Salsa," Nathan said, smiling. "It was a salsa commercial."

Almost without thinking, he rushed upstairs and began to pack. He only had one suitcase, but that was fine, his car was rather small. He packed essential clothes, enough to get him a week or so without doing laundry. Next he grabbed a gym bag and filled it with a few specialty items. He shoved in his electric razor, some cologne, deodorant, a toothbrush, toothpaste, a comb, and some TP just in case.

Before he knew it, he had everything he needed bagged up and ready to go. Quickly he walked into his mothers room, and opened the wall safe she'd had put in after she found out about her illness. She had told him that she would put one hundred dollars a month in there, and that he shouldn't tell anyone, it was for emergencies only.

As he opened the door a thought occurred to him, what if she had done this for this exact reason. He smiled again, that sounded like her. Her plan from the beginning. She was always sneaky about things.

The safe was inside the wall, behind an old picture she had gotten at a yard sale when he was younger. He turned the dial three times, and then pulled the lever to open it. Inside he found over twelve hundred dollars worth of cash, along with another note from his mother.

"I hope this gets you where you're going," he read aloud, smiling again.

He headed back downstairs, luggage in hand, grabbing his coat and the car keys. He stopped briefly to scribble a note for his aunt. She said she'd be by, and she had a key, he didn't want to worry anyone after all.

Outside the cold bit into his face, prompting him to put on his jacket. He fumbled for the deadbolt key in his excitement. With the door locked he picked up his bags and headed to the car. With a smile on his face, he heard the engine roar to life as he turned the key. He watched his home disappear behind him as he drove off in search of his father.