“It’s so far away,” Jerry’s mother lamented.
“I know, Ma, but it’s a great opportunity,” Jerry said, giving his mother a hug and wiping away her tears. “I figure I can get there in four days without pushing it too hard.”
“But surely you could have found a job right here in Buffalo instead of on the complete other side of the country.”
“San Antonio is not on the complete other side of the country,” Jerry said. “Here, let me show you.” He pulled out a map of the United States, pointed to the top right and said, “Here’s Buffalo, Ma.” Then he moved his finger down and to the lower left and stopped at San Antonio. “See, Ma, there are only five states between New York and Texas: Pennsylvania, Maryland, Virginia, Tennessee, Arkansas, and then Texas.”
“Well you be sure to write to me when you get there,” his mother said.
“Don’t worry, Ma, I’ll email and text you on the way and every day when I’m there.”
“No emails and text messages,” his mother said. “I don’t know how they work. Just write me letters and call me on the phone, like regular people do.”
“Fine,” Jerry said, “I’ll text you…I mean call you…when I get to the motel tonight.”
“I love you, son.”
“I love you too, Ma.”
Written for the Flash Fiction for the Purposeful Practitioner prompt from Roger Shipp. Photo credit: Hans Isaacson from Unsplash.