Wayward Son

Have you ever seen the Scrubs episode where they have the toilet on the roof? They called it the Epiphany Episode. It was Saturday night and I was having my own epiphany; only it wasn't sitting on the toilet. It was more bent over it and retching my guts out into the cool porcelain bowl.

It had to be well after 1am, hell I couldn't have told you what time it was. I had been at my buddy Mike's house throwing down a bender; pretty much what I did almost every Saturday night.

For all the goody-two-shoes out there; we might as well get the facts straight. My name is Austin Preacher; yeah that's right. All my friends just call me Preacher. I'm turning nineteen tomorrow, so tonight was my birthday bash; not that I needed a reason to get polluted.

No, I'm not old enough to drink; but do I, fuck yeah. Am I old enough to roll a joint; hell no, but tell that to the dime bag sitting on my desk in my room.

Since I had graduated high school, I had basically spent a year wasting my life away. I played video games all day; got wasted every weekend, and if it was female and breathed, hold it down, I'll fuck it.

In other words, I am a parents' worst nightmare. Except, I only have one parent. The fact my father had drank himself into alcohol toxicity when I twelve; didn't seem to stick in my brain.

What's that old country song by Randy Travis; My Momma Tried. She did, she tried very hard to steer me back; honestly I never heard a word she said.

No, I'm not going to tell you her name; I never call her by it, why should I say it now. She's always been just mom. No, I never looked at her sexually, in fact if anything she didn't fit the girl I considered my type.

She was trying that night, as I half stumbled down the hall back to my room. In my alcohol fogged brain I heard a sound I couldn't place and I looked around the dark hall.

Leaning against the wall outside mom's room, I heard it again. This time I knew what it was; sot sobbing. It was coming from mom's room and it made me stop in my tracks.

"Please God" I heard her soft voice. "Don't take him from me; he's all I have left." I heard that soft voice.

I sank to the floor against the wall, listening to a conversation I should never heard; but needed to hear. My mother, softly pleading not to lose someone she needed...me.

Not a single request was for her; not one. She begged and pleaded to keep me alive. She didn't even ask about the alcohol or the drugs, or the sex. She spoke of her loneliness and her missing my father; and the world as it was before the booze.

I know it sounds melodramatic, but until you've been there; do me a favor and don't judge. As I all but clawed my way back to my feet, and stumbled to my room, I could feel the hot tears on my cheeks. For the first time in my nineteen years, I realized not what I was doing to myself, but what I was doing to her.

When I woke close to noon the next day my head felt like it would erupt off my shoulders from my hangover. My gut hurt from the retching, and it felt like I hadn't slept at all.

As I slipped out my bed, still dressed from last night, for once I could see and God could I smell. I stank of sweat and vomit, while my room reeked. There was dirty cloths strewn about, half eaten food on the floor next to my gaming rocker; it was one of the most disgusting sights I had ever seen; and it was me.

I promptly stripped all my clothes off standing there, I couldn't stand to wear them a second longer. Without even thinking, I headed down the hall to the shower. It was Saturday, but I knew mom had picked up a shift for the day extra.

Jesus, how many weekends had she worked extra to pay our bills, I wondered. You're a fucking ass, I thought to myself as I slipped into the shower. After my shower I headed back to my room and damn if I could find a clean pair of pants or shirts. In my boxers I slowly gathered the remnants of my sordid life from the floor; and headed back down the hall.

OK, so I'm not your most domestic creature. It took me more than a few minutes just to figure out how the damned washer worked, it was so bad, I got three steps from the machine before I realized I hadn't even put detergent in the fucking thing.

As clothes were expunged, I began to pick up my room. God, it took almost a whole kitchen garbage bag to get the refuse out. Is this what mom did? Did she endure this over and over while I sat oblivious in front of my video console?

Once I could actually find the floor in my room, I went hunting. I never knew she kept the vacuum in the closet with the linen. Hell, I never even knew it was an upright. I did figure out how to make it turn on, and I spent the next hour and a half cleaning the pig pen I called a room.

By two thirty, I had on a clean shirt and jeans; and I actually could consider my room fit for human habitation again. I headed downstairs in the quiet house; heading for the kitchen because my now empty gut was driving me. I pulled a Tupperware of leftovers out of the fridge and popped them in the microwave.

As I stood there, I glanced around at the dishes sitting in the sink and the table cluttered with mom's coffee cup and ashtray.

It just seemed the most natural progression to continue what I had started in my room, and actually this time I was surprised when I stood in the clean kitchen only a half hour later.

I glanced up at the clock, it was pushing three and mom's shift would be ending soon. There had to be something else? I wandered around the house just looking; and this time I mean looking. The living room was cleaned and organized, God how long since I had sat in here?

The small dining room was cluttered with mom's paperwork. I stood for a moment glancing at the opened envelopes. An electric bill, a water bill, a cellphone bill; Jesus how much did we pay? I tried to calculate the numbers, but my head still hurt so I gave it up.

It's more than she's making that's for damn sure, I thought. I needed to fix THAT, I thought softly. I figured I could clean my car, God it had to be a worse pit than my room. I headed out the front door and across the driveway. I made it about ten feet before I saw the lawn.

Holy shit, I stared. It was a damned jungle with weeds sprouting everywhere and tall grass next to the house. I looked on both sides of the yard at the manicured lawns of the neighbors. Mom had to be embarrassed to even face them, I thought.

I headed into the garage and found the lawn mower tucked in the corner. I rummaged around until I found some old gas, and got the beast running. I have to admit, at first I thought the noise was going to make my brain melt; but after a bit the vibration and hum had an almost soothing effect.

I could feel myself starting to sweat after only a few turns around the yard. Getting out of shape asshole, I chaffed at myself. Stripping of my shirt, I gritted my teeth and kept pushing the beast.

I had finished the back and was mowing along the side of the garage; and never noticed the time. Because of the mower, I never heard mom's car pull into the driveway. I came around the corner of the garage just as mom was walking to the house. She stopped dead and stared at me.

"Austin" her voice was barely a squeak.

I reached down and killed the mower. I could see her eyes were like huge saucers as I walked over. It was like she was looking at a stranger.

"Hey mom" I said, almost sheepish.

"What..." she glanced at the mowed parts of the yard; "Austin..." she asked again.

"It's time I carried my weight" I said softly.

I couldn't help myself, that teenage bravado. I puffed out my bare chest. I was a respectable five ten and about one seventy-five. I had played sports in high school and always taken pride in my body.

"Besides, doesn't hurt to get back into shape for the girls." I flexed my muscles and tried a smile.

Mom just stood there and stared; her eyes gliding down my sweaty chest, then back to my face. This time there was more than just the surprise and shock, there was something else smoldering there I had never seen before.

"Why don't you head in and take a shower" I said softly. "And don't worry about dinner, it's covered."

"You are Austin...right?" Mom asked softly.

"Yeah mom, it's me." I looked into her confused eyes. "You know; Austin the slouch, Austin the bum, Austin the asshole." I said.

She opened her mouth to speak but I cut her off.

"I know; language." I smiled. "But you can't deny truth." I said softly.

Leaning in I kissed her softly on the forehead, I could smell the hint of a perfume on her skin. Why had I never noticed before?

"Go grab a shower lady" I told her. "I need to finish." Before she could answer I headed back to the mower.

By the time I had finished and shoved the mower back in the garage, the snot nosed kid who delivers pizza had been there. When I entered the kitchen, mom was standing staring at the box on the table.

"How...?" she looked at me.

"I sold my stuff back to Benny" I said quietly.

I could see the shock that rippled across mom's face. I had sold my stash, my most prized possession; to buy a pizza. I could see all the questions in her eyes, but I couldn't face them right then.

"I need to take a shower" I mumbled.

"Austin" her soft voice stopped me halfway across the kitchen.

As I turned to face her, she glided across the room towards me. No, she didn't walk. This five foot three woman, glided. Her small hand came up and rested on my chest, I could feel my heart pound as her skin touched mine. What was going on, I stood rooted to the spot.

"Don't...shower." She said softly.

I looked at her puzzled; I had to smell of sweat and mowed grass. I looked down and watched as one finger traced the drop of sweat across my pectoral muscle.

"I like..." her voice was a hushed whisper.

I couldn't help myself, I leaned in and softy kissed her forehead again. "Go ahead and sit, I'll get plates." I said quietly.

We ate in silence, mom kept glancing at me; so many questions in her eyes. I didn't even know half the answers myself; so I was glad she didn't ask.

She headed to the living room while I picked up the kitchen. I was at a bit of a loss at that point. I hadn't joined her in the living room since high school. I wandered up to my room, and tried to play a couple of video games.

By the time it was closing on ten, my muscles ached, and fatigue was setting in. It had been a long day. The first day, I thought. It was Saturday night, I was sober, and I was home.

I had stripped down to my boxers and was trying to straighten the disaster of my bed sheets, when there was soft tapping at my door.

"Austin." Mom's soft voice came through the door.

"Come on in mom" I called to her.

I turned from the bed, and saw her standing beside the almost closed door watching me. I could see her blonde hair pulled back in a pony-tail, highlighting her clear blue eyes.

She was wearing an old tan chemise; I could see the frayed hemline. Once again the thoughts came; how much had she given up for herself, for me.

I stood silent, watching her eyes as they looked me over. There was definitely something different in her gaze as she ran her eyes from my washboard abs, up my chest. Then, the look of mom returned to her eyes as she met my gaze.

"You are...Austin?" she asked softy.

"The new Austin Powers baby" I said; thinking of the old corny movie and trying to lighten the mood.

Mom just stared back at me confused. I knew I was going to have to face the questions sooner or later, might as well get it done, I sighed to myself. I eased down onto the side of my bed, and patted beside me.

Hesitant mom came over and sat beside me. She continued to look at me for a moment, her eyes searching mine.

"What's going on?" she asked in a hush.

"I...I heard you...last night." It was the only answer I could give as I stared down at my hands.

"Oh God" mom whispered.

"Its OK mom" I looked up at her. "You were right. I don't know why or how; but...it's time...to grow up." I said softly.

Mom just sat staring at me, her eyes searching mine. I tried to pour into words what I had been feeling since last night, but I suck at finding the right words. I tend to be a guy of action not words usually.

"I know I haven't been the greatest" I sighed. "I'm sorry for the hurt..."

"Shhhhh" mom said as she reached out to my bare thigh. "I love you." She whispered.

"I love you" I stared into her eyes. "It's going to be different."

Mom leaned in and I sat there like a rock as her lips brushed mine. It felt like a mini electric shock ran from my lips to my groin. What the hell?

Mom had a look of surprise in her eyes when she leaned back. Her eyes glanced down and the growing chub in my boxers. I wanted to crawl under the bed.

"I better get back to bed." Mom said softly.

As I watched her walk out of my room, it was as if my eyes weren't under my own control. I scanned up her slim legs, to the small tight ass under her chemise. She really wasn't my body style; but I also couldn't deny the small surge of blood that flowed into my already hardening cock.

I burrowed under my covers and did my best to banish the thoughts as sleep took my weary body. I couldn't believe I was thinking of my mom that way, it had to be the hangover from the booze and drugs.

For the next week, I dried out. I mean I literally dried out. I had the shakes, the sweats; all the cravings. Every time I wanted to head to Benny, I heard the sound of mom's tears. If you've ever been down that road, believe me it sucks.

The interesting thing was, as the week went by, there was a subtle change in mom as well. She touched me more; my arm or my chest. She would kiss me lightly at odd times. Then, when she came through the kitchen in jeans and a tank, I thought I would piss myself.

"What?" she asked softly as I stared at her.

God did she look good. Where had that body been hiding? At barely over five foot four inches, she only packed a hundred and twenty five pounds. Add a tight little ass encased in jeans; and a tank top stretched over a pair of 36B's. She may not have been my style before, but she was rapidly joining the ranks.

"Nothing" I mumbled looking away.

The next day was more of the same. She wore tight jeans with sequins on the back pockets. I had never seen those jeans before, but apparently she had a wardrobe I had never noticed before.

Within a few hours I could have drawn the pattern of the sequins with my eyes closed, I stared at her ass so damn much.

We were sitting at the small kitchen table having a sandwich for lunch, mom was talking about work. I honestly wasn't hearing much. Not because of any booze or hangover, but because my eyes kept drifting down.

This time she was wearing a light pale yellow blouse, since it was hotter than hell. The material as thin enough I could tell she wasn't wearing a bar either. I could just barely see the hint of dark areoles through the cloth as he breasts swayed.

"Austin..." I didn't hear. "Austin..." she spoke again. God I just sat there like a post. A slender finger came out and touched the bottom of my chin, drawing my face upward.

"My eyes are up here sweetie" mom whispered softly.

"Sorry" I mumbled as crimson spread across my cheeks.

"For what; appreciating?" Mom said as she rose from her chair to collect the plates.

"Why do you think I'm wearing it?" she stared into my eyes.

I was stunned. Was she wearing the clothes for me, or was it some kind of reward. What the hell was going on? I stood and headed for the garage door, I needed to get some of the yard work done, and hot or not, and it wasn't going away.

"Austin..." mom's voice came from the sink where she stood.

I turned and looked at her, but she was staring at the plate she held in her hand.

"Take your shirt off...please" she whispered softly.

I headed out into the back yard, picking up the rake I glanced at the kitchen window. Mom was standing at the sink, her eyes locked to me. I honestly don't know what possessed me in that moment; I set down the rake, and slowly peeled my t-shirt off.

OK, I admit it; I'm a nineteen year old male. I flexed my muscles and did a bit of a show; so sue me. Mom wasn't the only one who liked to be appreciated.

For the next fifteen minutes or so, I worked around the yard. I made a point of bending over to tighten my jeans around my butt. Or turn and half face the window, my chest gleaming with sweat. I could see mom, standing at the sink not moving.

Suddenly I realized she was gone; oh well so much for the show. Later, when I headed back into the house I figured grab a quick shower then maybe try playing some games.

As I crossed through the living room, I could see mom sitting on the couch. Something made me stop and look at her face. I could see a tear running down her cheek.

"What's wrong?" I asked as I walked over to the couch.

"I'm so...sorry" mom softly sobbed.

"What is it?" I eased down on the couch next to her, my shower forgotten.

"I couldn't...stop." She said softly.

I couldn't figure it out, what had she done that could be so wrong. As I looked at her, it suddenly occurred to me she was wearing a different pair of jeans than the ones with the sequins.

I looked closer at her face, yep there was still that tell tale rose color faintly in her cheeks. Having been an expert at the art; I knew.

"Did you...did you masturbate?" I asked softly.

"Yes" mom gasped. "At the sink." She turned and stared into my eyes.

I could see a mix of shame and desire in her eyes. It occurred to me; she was more than just my mom. More than just a cleaning machine, or cooking machine; she was a woman. Of all the things I could give back to her, just maybe it was a touch of humanity.

I leaned in and softly brushed her lips across mine. "Nice to be appreciated" I smiled.

"Austin..." mom pled.

"I think I'll go take my shower" I said calmly.

Rising from the couch I looked down at mom. I could see the strain in her face; but even more I could see how her nipples poked at the thin fabric of her blouse.

"You know" I said softly. "I have to be careful." Mom looked up at my face. "I forget to close the bathroom door so much." I almost whispered.

Without waiting for a response I headed for the stairs. I got a fresh change of clothes from my room and headed into the small bathroom at the end of the hall. I made a point of leaving the door halfway open. It might have been wrong, but there wasn't much an unemployed ex-druggie could give his mother. If this gave her happiness then I would do what it took.

I made a point of ignoring the half open door, or the fact that the glass for the tub shower was clear. I made it about halfway through my shower when I had the feeling someone was watching me; as I glanced sideways at the door, I could see mom's slight form as she leaned against the doorway.

She wasn't really in the shower, more just the door. Probably a compromise, she could always claim she never came in the shower, I half smiled at the logic.

I was standing almost sideways to the door, and I knew she couldn't see much; I took a deep breath and stepped under the warm spray, wetting my hair. I rotated slowly, until I guessed I was standing more facing the door. I knew the right spot when I heard my mother softly gasp.

My arms were reached up, starting to shampoo my hair, letting my pectorals flex. If that wasn't enough, I could feel the warm water cascading down my body, running off my flaccid cock. She had to be getting an eye full by now, I figured.

I rinsed out the shampoo and wiped my eyes clear of the water. When I glanced at the door, I got the shock of my life. My mother was standing, still leaning against the door, only now her blouse hung open and loose on her shoulders, one hand cupping what I had to admit was a damn good looking breast.