The Exchange

The sun was close to setting, the sky had turned a pale orange scene.

I was in that silver car for minutes that felt like hours,

It felt like we were going nowhere at all by the looks of it.

As the roads zoomed behind me faster than the speed of light,

The man on the thin electricity lines had somehow managed to keep up.

He was able to keep my company for a while as I stared out the window.

After many years of sitting in the car, we finally made it to the best spot ever.

The retail park usually looked packed, but at the time we usually went at, it was always as empty. Little to no cars in the parking lot making it seem vacant as ever.

The shops were closed, I always thought we were going to go in before then.

My favourite shop had been shut down for a while, can’t remember the last time I was in it.

The fluorescent lights outshining the moon and the stars beamed at me

As i watched them from the parked car window. We pulled up next to the green van.

First, my mother had rolled her window down, lit her cigarette and took a long drag.

She always knew to do that when I was in the car. The clouds plummeting outside.

She made sure I had my school bag. It was full of clothes, not school books.

It wasn’t heavy as usual, but the air had felt like the weight of the world, dense.

I sat up a bit more so I could look up at the empty parking lot and closed stores,

And I locked eyes with the green van man parked up right beside us.

When he had noticed me, he stepped out of the car, so did my mother.

I knew the routine at this point. I got out of the car too with my weightless bag and

my eyes weighed heavy too. The man had opened his car door to the passenger seat.

My mother and he exchanged a silent glance before she said—

“Don’t forget, bring him back on Sunday before eight o’clock.”

Her voice sounded intimidating and warningly, it usually did.

The man from the green van said— “Yeah, I know. Do I look stupid?”

I was always brought back at around nine anyways, I knew he was lying.

He grabbed the bag from my shoulders and chucked it into the back of the van,

and carried me into the passenger seat, buckled me in, and let me say goodbye.

When he came back around to the drivers seat, he copied my mother and lit one up,

leaving the window up. I felt so cool basically smoking too.

I watched as my mother stood outside her car door, finishing her smoke before

throwing it away and heading back into her own car, she looked so sad.

The man, however, remained just as cold and emotionless as when we first did this.

My mother would exchange me for a weekend of peace and quiet for herself,

and the man looked as if he had been taking care of me my whole life.

I didn’t worry. It was only for the weekend every single time,

where my mother would give me away to my father, a quiet switch to my second home.