Toto’s Africa was playing on the radio as loud as he could make it, as he made the last few miles of his trip. He was singing loudly, the song always made him feel…free.

It had been years since he was in his hometown. Pittsburgh wasn’t home anymore, it hadn’t been for a very long time. When he left home as a fresh-faced teen with only the clothes on his back, he swore he would never be back. That was over twenty years ago, and he had grown a lot in those years.

Looking at his gas tank he groaned, he really needed to check it more often. Fred, what he called his VW van, was driving on no more than gas fumes now. He was on his sister’s street, all he had to do was glide his way in. Just making it on a wing and a prayer, he pulled in. Briefly he wondered if he should have called ahead. She was a stickler for things like that.

Molly was eight years younger than him, but she was the responsible sibling. She had a husband, kids, house and a kickass job. She was a senior partner at Kinnetik Advertising, she had worked her ass off for it. At least that’s what he had heard on his infrequent phone calls. He felt bad but he just usually forgot to pay the bill and when he would remember his phone would have been shut off for almost a year.

The front door opened and his sister’s pissed off face was lit under her porch light. Yeah, he definitely should have called. Her arms were crossed, and she was tapping her foot. Knowing he didn’t have enough gas to run away, he reluctantly got out of the van.

“Hey, sis,” he said, giving her a wave.

“It is eleven at night and you didn’t even call. Really, Justin, I haven’t heard from you in over a year.”

“Didn’t you check the site?”

“Of course, I checked the site, it’s the only way I know you’re not dead. You got caught in that Tornado in Kansas a couple months ago and you didn’t even call. I had to find out from the site.”

Justin was a travel writer, photographer and artist. All but the last paid. He’s lived a nomad lifestyle since he was seventeen years old.  His father had kicked him out when Justin told him he was gay. He borrowed money from his best friend Daphne and boarded a greyhound bus and never looked back.

All the horror stories he had heard, he thought it was going to be the end of the world. Turns out he was extremely lucky. He was going to go to New York City but couldn’t afford it. Instead he only got as far as Erie, PA. It was the start of his new life.

“I’m sorry, Mol. I didn’t mean to forget to pay the bill.”

“I wish you would just let me pay it. Then I wouldn’t have to worry, or deal with Mom calling to see if I’d heard from you.”

“I don’t need my baby sister paying my bills.”

“Clearly you do.”

“Let’s drop it. Can me and my van stay in your driveway for the night?”

She sighed. “I guess I can’t talk you into sleeping in the guest room, can I?”

“Why sleep in your guest room when I can sleep in my own bed?”

She shook her head and rolled her eyes. “You were born in the wrong era to be a hippie, you know that, right?”

“Not hippie…free spirit.”

“Is Harry with you?”

His heart took a hit. He hadn’t put anything on the travel site he worked for because he hadn’t been ready. Everyone who looked at that site and read about his adventures knew Harry.

“What’s wrong?” she asked, probably seeing change in demeanor.

“Harry’s gone.”

“Harry’s dead?” she asked, bringing her hand to her mouth.

“I don’t know. We were hiking to a place called Cades Cove, it’s in the Smokey Mountains. He ran off chasing some animal. I thought he would be back with in a few minutes. I stayed around for days, then came back with some local volunteers. Overall, I was there for over a month, but Dean was after me for my next location.” Dean was the editor of the magazine he worked for.

“Oh, god, poor Harry. They might find him though, then they’ll call because he’s chipped.”

Harry was chipped with Molly’s information because even Justin knew he was a bad bet.

“Yes, but it’s been two months. He’s so little and it’s so big there.”

He had found Harry as a puppy in the ghost town of Misnebalm in Yucatán. The little thing was nothing but skin and bones when he found him. Harry was a mix between a Chihuahua and Bichon Frise, at least that’s what the vet’s best guess was. He had been a part of Justin’s life for six years; it was hard to think he would never see him again. He felt awful about giving up, but he had walked that area until his feet bled, he had slept on the ground and left so much of his clothes around it he would probably get in trouble for littering. He just wanted his little buddy back. He hated that his mother was right. He was too irresponsible for a pet.

“He’ll be found and when he is, I’ll go with you to pick him up,” she said sounding so sure of it.

“I hope so.”

“So, what are you doing back here?”

“Dad.”

“Dad? What the hell does Dad have to do with anything? I haven’t even talked to that son-of-a-bitch for months.”

“He reached out to Dean, asking me to come and visit him. Guess there is still a part of me that wants him to love me. You don’t have to say it, I know I’m a glutton for punishment.”

“He’s going to hate your hair,” she said, pulling his ponytail.

“I know but what can I say, I like it.”

“It’s longer than mine. God, Justin I’ve missed you so much.” She hugged him tightly. “I wish you would at least consider staying here and settling down.”

“I love my life. I’m free to do what I please and when I please. I go to amazing places that most people never even dream of going. Dean is in talks with a publisher for us to do a book. He thinks my ghost town travels would be great. I have to agree.”

“You look younger than me, that’s not fair.”

“You have a stressful job; I just take pictures and write about what I saw.”

“I hate you.”

“You love me. Thanks for letting me stay. At least give me a few hours before you call Mom.”

“I’m calling her at seven so be ready. I’m also going to call Brian, my boss, I’m going to take tomorrow off. I want to be there when you talk to Dad.”

“Fine. How’s Jeff and the kids?”

“Good, really good. I think Nick is going to be just like his uncle, he’s always got a crayon in his hand.”

“That’s a good boy. We’ll I’m going to get some sleep; I’ve been driving for about twenty-nine hours straight.”

She shook her head. “You’re going to kill yourself one day. Free spirit my ass, you’re going to give me a heart attack before I’m thirty-five.”

He kissed her on the cheek and climbed in his van again. He had a mattress in the back, something that annoyed Molly. He had told her once it could be worse; he could have naked women painted on outside of it. As he laid down, he groaned. He was getting too old for this lifestyle, not that he would tell his overbearing sister that.