I followed my dad out of the airport. On the way to his car, I striked up a conversation. "So, what's new? How are you?"
Dad adjusted his leather jacket, thinking as we stepped on the slick concrete from recent rain. "Hm… Well I've been ok. I've taken a break with the Youtube stuff, but I plan on getting back on soon."
"Oh yeah? Heard you've been going viral lately."
Dad nodded. "Mhm. It was that Deathmatch tournament reaction video. You know, the 94' one I was in?"
I chuckled at the thought of my father sitting down and talking about that match. "Mom won't make me forget. She almost killed you for missing the birth."
He cracked a smile as we reached his reliable Audi. "Yeah. I was on the damn train with my banadages still fresh. Good thing she wasn't far."
As I strapped myself in, my father cleared his throat and adjusted himself. "Say, you know what a DILF is?"
My head snapped to him, looking at him with confusion and bewilderment. "Who called you that?!"
Dad shrugged. "Some fan accounts on Instagram. Y'all always got some new slang. You know back in my day words stuck for years!"
I rolled my eyes playfully, letting him rant on as we drove home.
I rested my head on the window, letting the street lights fly past me like stars. The Oakland skyline always looked stunning to me. I bet I've seen it a thousand times, and I still can't help but to smile looking at the buildings and lights, the cars in the distance living their own lives as Christmas draws closer and closer. I was lost in thought as Dad drove home, radio playing Christmas classics.
Dad's house was modest for a man of his standing. He wasn't just a wrestling star, he was a local legend. He was born here, raised by the streets, and given nothing as he fought for every scrap of time in the ring. He left Oakland into a literal foreign world in his teens. The home was in a gated community, a two story house with all the modern amidines you need for an upper-middle class family. Garage, nice backyard, and plenty of polish. He parked and I got out as soon as I could to head into the living room to see my mother.
Kumiko Knight… My Mom. She's a doctor. She was a hard working woman, putting her passion of helping into practice every day of the week. She's educated in every sense of the word. Standing proud, she had her hair in a ponytail, slicked black. She aged gracefully in her forties as well, with little wrinkles marking her round face. She couldn't help but to smile as she saw her son again, for the first time in months. I ran to her and hugged her, practically picking her up since she was rather short. "Kris…!" She exclaimed.
"Mom… Oh man." I let go soon after.
"Kris, look at you. You look so different. Your hair is growing out and everything."
I put a hand through it and smiled. I didn't get my dad's genes when it came to his hair, so no curls or dreads for me. It was naturally slick like her. "Yeah, you like? Just had no time to cut it."
"You look nice son," She said, smiling. "Now put your bags down, your father has some dinner planned."
"Damn right!" Dad yelled out. "I got some of my classic BBQ chicken on the menu tonight."
I was happy as they went into the kitchen, talking about how excited everything was. I went into my room and collapsed on the bed, sighing as my body rested.
As I relaxed, I started to assess my feelings over the past week, hell, year. It was shit, with a few sparks of brilliance to keep me sane. I was struggling to make ends meet, I was in a deep slump that isolated me from my friends and family back in Oakland. But now I feel like I'm on the upper path. The situation with Carter, I can put aside for a moment. I just wanted to enjoy this week.
That was a problem for 2021 Kris to solve.