*Somewhere not too far away a stereo played...*

*The music was faint, but clear enough to carry through its joyful yet melancholic melody..*

*It was one of those sounds which when heard made one crave for some sort of indefinable freedom. That craving that comes with hearing the distant whistle of a train at night...*

*Manny fought the memories. He felt it was a losing battle but he fought still...*

*Then inevitably he lost.. Nostalgia crawled in...*

*Manny closed his eyes..*

*The music faded away...*

<center>![woman-3478437_1920.jpg](https://cdn.steemitimages.com/DQmQd2M8XpWVUvhJmTuwgzp4Q8jknXVv9bbtdUeakNdg2MN/woman-3478437_1920.jpg)
[Pixabay](https://pixabay.com/en/woman-train-zugabteil-farewell-3478437/)</center>

<center>***Kayla...***</center>

<center>.........💠.........</center>

Kayla’s boots hit the ground. The dry earth scattered into dust clouds as she strode across the front of the house. Manny was late again.

The harsh sun beat down against her brown skin. She looked off into the distance, the heat haze sat above the plain, rippling the sight of the far off mountains.

She lifted her arm, checking her watch. The sun reflected across the scratched screen. She ran her finger over the deepest scratch. It had still worked after her accident.

A young boy came hurtling out of the front door and blindly ran straight into her. The force knocked them both to the ground.

She fell hard. Her limbs scraped against loose stones and the scorched dirt.

“What in the devil are you playing at?”

She got up quickly, patting herself off in the process.

The young boy sat still. Tears rolling down his dirty cheeks. He coughed as he struggled to breathe, the fine dust getting into his lungs.

Manny stepped onto the veranda and placed his hands on his hips. His shirt hung open and his hat tilted on his head.

Kayla shook her head at the sight of him. She had known Manny her entire life but she was always surprised to see him so relaxed at his home.

“This your boy Manny?”

“Aye, that be Thomas.”

“He make yer’ late then?”

Manny walked down the front steps and helped his son up. Thomas took the offered hand reluctantly.

Kayla chuckled to herself.

“Better bring him with us. ‘Bout time he learned the family trade.”

Manny and Thomas followed Kalya towards her truck. The truck smelled of licorice and sawdust. The engine rattled into life. Thomas slid into the centre. His eyes still pooling with tears.

Manny opened up a hip flask, taking a sip. He growled as the harsh liquid hit his throat. He passed it to Kayla, she drank as she drove across the open land.

“What them tears about then?”

She asked as she passed the flask back.

Manny laughed. “He got a clip round the ear for talking cheek to his mother, didn’t ya’ boy?”

Kayla gripped the wheel tighter as the truck bounced over the rough terrain.

“Well, that seems rightly deserved then. Ya’ don’t talk like that to your ma kid, ya’ just don’t.”

The truck swayed as the tires followed the grooves and tracks of the land. Thomas was the most affected by the force, having spent very little time in vehicles of any kind. He watched as the truck traveled through a river, unaffected by the water.

Manny lit up a cigarette and tilted his head back as he exhaled. The smoke filled the air quickly, Thomas started coughing.

“Quit it will ya manny. The kid got weak lungs or summit’?”

“He’s a weaklin’ alright.”

Manny laughed as he clapped his son on the back...

<center>.........💠.........</center>

*He didn't know when, but Manny realised his eyes were open again..*

*He noticed too that the music had returned. That terrible, sweet yet annoyingly painful music. Sounds that tortured and soothed his soul...*

*He noticed the boy still stood in front of him. It seemed he was trying to say something. It looked like that something was intended for Manny.*

*Manny tried to listen, or at least he thought he tried. But this boy, this fellow, this person.. he stirred Manny's memories. Stirred it bad...*

*Manny tried to concentrate on the words he knew were coming, but he couldn't. This face, this face... It made him want to think again, try again, just close his eyes again...*

*Slowly the music returned...*

<center>.........💠.........</center>

Manny set the flask down and walked towards Kayla. The look in his eyes were familiar enough for her to quickly understand.

She responded with a meaningful little smile, her thoughts momentarily off the job at hand. But when Manny reached her, she placed a restrictive hand on his already bare chest.

"How 'bout the boy?" She asked

Manny tried to remove the hand and ignore the question. But when he saw she was serious, he reluctantly decided to give in.

"Busy enough to let us have thirty minutes."

Kayla twisted her neck to one side, a way of hers when she needed assurance over something. Manny didn't delay this time.

"Trust me..." He replied, to her unspoken question.

And she did...

But she never should have...

<center>.........💠.........</center>

*Manny remembered now. He remembered the screams that day decades ago. He remembered them like it was yesterday...*

*The screams of Thomas.. The screams of his boy.. his son...*

*And for years he had believed him dead...*

*Until today. Today when this figure had appeared at his door step. This figure, this boy, all grown up.. with memories...*

*Manny found he could now focus on those words the figure kept on repeating. Slowly, he concentrated, and made them out...*

*Those words...*

*"Dad, I have come to learn the family business."*

*And as Manny repeated them again and again in his head, somewhere not too far away a stereo played...*



THE END?


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Written for @bananafish's [Finish The Story Contest](https://busy.org/@bananafish/finish-the-story-contest-week-42)

I wasn't sure which of the characters to pick up from the story as my own protagonist. So i decided to leave it open somewhat. Perhaps I may decide to let father and son go after the business (Kay...?) somewhere where there isn't a 500 word limit, lol.

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![BUMBkukFFT2.jpg](https://cdn.steemitimages.com/DQmU7DFW9xkUSCBog5KJMH9N6GLorKS35NDUCRN4n4reRrj/BUMBkukFFT2.jpg)