Memphis Nights

By Orlando Trevino

Memphis, Tennessee, is the home of rock and roll, blues and gospel, Graceland and Elvis.

Its also the city that revitalizes Trey Williamss life. For Trey, Memphis is the perfect fit. After years of taking care of so many others, Trey realizes that he hasnt really done anything to make himself happy. When he and his longtime partner split, he decides that theres no time like the present to shake things up.

He knows its time to shake off the comforts of home and pursue the dreams that he has placed on the back burner for so long. With over a dozen friends who already called the Land of the Delta Blues home, Trey knows his move to the South holds promise for him to go in the direction he envisionsand find a good man to love.

Starting over is never easy, but when you have a little help from your friends, its never too late to be what you might have been. In Memphis, Trey discovers an entirely different way of life. From the unique Southern culture to the mind-entrancing music, Trey absorbs all of the new experiences that await him in his new home. Over the course of a year filled with trials and errors, Trey eventually learns how to live, laugh, andfinallylove.

• Language: English
• Publisher: iUniverse
• Release date: Oct 12, 2011
• ISBN: 9781462054190

Orlando Trevino

Orlando Trevino is the author of two novels, The Unspoken Word and Moving Forward. He works as a production coordinator and associate producer for a media-based production company in Bakersfield, California. He was born and raised in southern Texas and attended Southwest Texas State University prior to moving to California.

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Copyright © 2011 by Orlando Trevino.

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This is a work of fiction. All of the characters, names, incidents, organizations, and dialogue in this novel are either the products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.

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ISBN: 978-1-4620-5418-3 (sc)

ISBN: 978-1-4620-5420-6 (hc)

ISBN: 978-1-4620-5419-0 (ebk)

Printed in the United States of America

iUniverse rev. date: 10/04/2011

Contents

CHAPTER

ONE

CHAPTER

TWO

CHAPTER

THREE

CHAPTER

FOUR

CHAPTER

FIVE

CHAPTER

SIX

CHAPTER

SEVEN

CHAPTER

EIGHT

CHAPTER

NINE

CHAPTER

TEN

CHAPTER

ELEVEN

CHAPTER

TWELVE

CHAPTER

THIRTEEN

CHAPTER

FOURTEEN

CHAPTER

FIFTEEN

CHAPTER

SIXTEEN

CHAPTER

SEVENTEEN

CHAPTER

EIGHTEEN

CHAPTER

NINETEEN

CHAPTER

TWENTY

CHAPTER

TWENTY-ONE

CHAPTER

TWENTY-TWO

CHAPTER

TWENTY-THREE

CHAPTER

TWENTY-FOUR

CHAPTER

TWENTY-FIVE

CHAPTER

TWENTY-SIX

CHAPTER

TWENTY-SEVEN

CHAPTER

TWENTY-EIGHT

CHAPTER

TWENTY-NINE

CHAPTER

THIRTY

CHAPTER

THIRTY-ONE

CHAPTER

THIRTY-TWO

CHAPTER

THIRTY-THREE

CHAPTER

THIRTY-FOUR

CHAPTER

THIRTY-FIVE

CHAPTER

THIRTY-SIX

CHAPTER

THIRTY-SEVEN

CHAPTER

THIRTY-EIGHT

CHAPTER

THIRTY-NINE

CHAPTER

FORTY

CHAPTER

FORTY-ONE

CHAPTER

FORTY-TWO

CHAPTER

FORTY-THREE

CHAPTER

FORTY-FOUR

CHAPTER

FORTY-FIVE

CHAPTER

FORTY-SIX

CHAPTER

FORTY-SEVEN

CHAPTER

FORTY-EIGHT

CHAPTER

FORTY-NINE

CHAPTER

FIFTY

CHAPTER

FIFTY-ONE

CHAPTER

FIFTY-TWO

CHAPTER

FIFTY-THREE

CHAPTER

FIFTY-FOUR

CHAPTER

FIFTY-FIVE

CHAPTER

FIFTY-SIX

CHAPTER

FIFTY-SEVEN

CHAPTER

FIFTY-EIGHT

For

Alan, Chris, Mark, Jim, Steve S., Jeremy, Zach, Angie, Steve C., Ty, Paul, Scott.

Thank you for the good times, the memories, and the inspiration.

Shirley Brewer, who spent countless hours helping me edit.

Mike, who supported me every step of the way.

CHAPTER

ONE

It’s said that most people lie at least three times a day. But what happens when you start to realize that you’re exceeding your daily quota, especially when you’re lying to yourself? When every word coming out of your mouth seems like a lie, you know it’s time for a change. It doesn’t matter if you’re talking to a co-worker, the kid behind the Starbucks counter, or even your significant other. If the words you’re exchanging with these people aren’t true to you or to them, then what good are you doing for anyone?

It was at this point that I realized it was time to change my life. No longer could I just pretend that everything around me was the way I wanted it to be or that I still felt as if I had a future being where I was.

My life was a routine, plain and simple. There was no spontaneity, fun, or pleasure. There were only mundane actions and conversations with people about things that didn’t really matter to me. I was used to it, and I didn’t try to fight it. That was my life. At least that’s what I kept telling myself every night as I dozed off with the help of a couple of pills.

Every morning, I’d wake up feeling like everything was perfect—a feeling that lasted for a split second. Then the cognitive part of my brain came to life and reminded me that I was stuck in a hamster wheel.

Just kill me and get it over with, was the thought that typically came to mind. However, that would have been too easy. I knew what I needed to do. The difficult part was accepting it and doing something about it. A friend had once told me that there is a huge difference between waking up to a job and waking up to a purpose. Little did I know how true it was when she said it.

I had found myself getting lost for many years. Yes, I had a decent job, a fancy car, and a nice house. To a lot of people, those things might equate to having a great life. But none of those things made me genuinely happy. There was a void that money, work, or any number of material things wasn’t going to fill.

For over thirty years, I had spent every waking moment taking care of everyone else. After high school, I took care of my family when they had gotten sick. After they passed, I automatically started helping my friends deal with their issues. But not once had I ever done anything to make me happy.

My biggest problem since childhood had always been my self-esteem. Even though people always told me I was funny and a kick to hang out with, inside, I felt like an insecure child, trying to get people’s attention. I was never happy with the way I looked, sounded, or acted because I never thought I was good enough.

I had grown to accept my insecurities and occasional shyness. But in many ways, these were the sources of all my problems. I spent so many years trying to help and please everyone so I would be accepted and liked that, after a while, I forgot to please myself. I did what everyone else wanted to do simply to be a part of the group, and I went along with other people’s opinions so I wouldn’t rock the boat. So, yeah, you could say I was a yes man.

I hate to say that I blamed my parents for my issues. But don’t we all, in one form or another? I knew they loved me. That was easy to see. What I never received was the extra push that helped most kids pop out of their shells. I was brought up to be the good son who always helped others before I ever thought about helping myself.

If there had been a support group for people like me when I was younger, I would have joined purely to hear myself say, My name is Trey Williams, and I need help.

The recent break-up in my life had also helped to kick my life into gear. My partner and I had been together for a long time, but somehow we drifted apart. We still cared for each other and always would. I knew that would always be the case. But lately, our lives were going in separate directions. He was content with the quiet home life we had created. I yearned for more out of my life and career.

Once we had slipped apart, it made the notion of moving on with my life that much easier. It was time to look after myself and do what I wanted to do. I knew that moving away and leaving everything familiar behind wasn’t going to guarantee me a successful future, but wasn’t I entitled to try?

A few people knew what I was thinking. Most of them were excited for me. They realized that I needed to do what was right for me and not keep trying to please the whole world around me. Others were concerned that I was being rash. They wondered whether I should stay and try to fix what was wrong before resorting to something as drastic as moving away.

I had already thought about staying. But it didn’t feel right. Maybe because, in my heart, I knew that staying wasn’t going to fix anything. I had changed and wanted new things in my life.

Ultimately, I realized that the only person I needed to listen to was me. No matter what I was afraid of or how much I knew it was going to hurt, it was time to make my life into what I wanted it to be.

I think it’s time. It’s not working here anymore, and I’m tired of pretending. I’m leaving. I had said those exact words to my small group of friends only a few weeks ago.

Making the statement out loud had taken a lot of courage. Taking action took more. Afterward, though, it felt like a weight had been lifted off my shoulders.

The thunderous sound of the approaching storm shook me from my reverie as I drove over the Hernando De Soto Bridge, or the M Bridge as I would come to learn, into Memphis, Tennessee.

The weather reports said it had been raining in Memphis and the surrounding areas for three days straight, with continued downpours expected for another two days. The dark skies seemed to keep dropping rain and raising the humidity, making it feel oppressive. I was quickly learning what it was going to be like living in the South during the summer.

For the past fifteen hundred miles, I had been telling myself that I was making the right decision by starting over at this point in my life. I knew that pretending and faking your way through life wasn’t enough for anyone. Especially me.

Finding a place to start my new life had been the hard part. Each time I thought about moving forward, there was only one place that kept popping back into my head. It was a crazy idea. But for some odd reason in my gut, I felt it was right.

Before long, I had convinced myself that Memphis, Tennessee, seemed like the best choice. I had met Riley Dubois and Lane Spencer a year earlier, and we had become fast friends. Between phone calls, text messages, and e-mails, we had pretty much learned everything there was to know about one another without having seen each other in person for months.

My friends had been thrilled about the idea of me coming to live in the South. They had planned several things for us to do during my first few days to help get me acclimated and familiar with the city. That gesture alone told me that I had friends willing to help me out in a time of need. Before my journey across country had even started, Riley and Lane had already gone out of their way to make me feel at home.

It was nerve-racking to know that I was about to make a fresh start with no direction at all. On the other hand, after so many years of planning every inch of my life, it felt good to just fly by the seat of my pants for once.

I had been job hunting in Memphis from the moment I had decided it was where I belonged. However, unless I wanted to flip burgers or stock store shelves, nothing promising had come my way. Riley had already reassured me repeatedly that there was nothing to worry about. Because he knew so many people in Memphis, it meant I had an in with most of the businesses in town.

The loud chirp from my cell phone stopped my thoughts in mid-stream. A new text message had arrived and I already knew who it was from without even having to reach for the phone.

Where you at?

Riley had been texting me throughout the drive to make sure I wouldn’t get lost or lose my nerve and turn around. It was already too late for that! I had already left everything behind and was ready for something new. All I had to do was take a deep breath and relax, I told myself as I entered the city limits.

Just got here. Be at your house soon.

That was all that needed to be said. We would see each other soon enough and talk until the sun came up. Of that I was certain.

Since it was Sunday afternoon, I knew Riley was still busy working his open houses. Like so many other realtors across the country, weekends were usually his busiest time. Riley knew how to work hard. But he knew how to play even harder when he had the chance.

I knew his partner, Lane, was home because he only worked weekdays. With any luck, he would have a cocktail waiting for me along with a nice comfortable bed. I had been driving for so long that all I wanted was to lie down and have a drink. Not necessarily in that order. I had already been warned that my first night in town was going to be cause for celebration. As much as I was looking forward to it, all I wanted to do was sleep.

I was no virgin when it came to going out with my friends. I had visited Memphis before and fell victim to the overindulging that normally followed a night out. Before that, I had partied with my new friends during a vacation, which was how we had met. Even then, they had taken me under their wing and shown me a great time—the kind of time I rarely got to have with my partner or friends back home.

Being with the boys from Memphis had always felt right. I couldn’t explain it then and I can’t now. For some reason, from the moment we met, we all simply clicked. Riley and Lane had become the friends I had always wished for in my life.

They were the kind of friends who would cheer you up if the world seemed against you. They would drag you out on your birthday—no matter how old you felt—and even listened to your problems without complaining. Each time I was with them, it was a great time. So I knew exactly what I was getting into by moving there.

I had never met anyone like Riley. With his six-foot lean frame, bright smile and sweet green eyes, he was not only attractive but had the best social personality in the world. The only way I think he could ever dislike someone was if they kicked his dog or drank the last of his vodka. Everywhere we went, I saw how people seemed to flock to him. Whether they were old friends or soon-to-be new ones didn’t matter. Riley was the life of the party.

Lane was sweet but slightly more reserved. It was hard for me to figure him out at first. I wasn’t sure if he even liked me when we had met, but Riley set me straight.

That’s just him. Give him some time, Riley told me.

Which I did, and before long he had loosened up and started treating me as if we were old friends. It didn’t take long for me to realize that Lane was the anchor in their relationship. The way that Lane took care of Riley and their home made it obvious. Being the sedate one in their relationship, Lane preferred to plan things out, which balanced Riley’s love for spontaneity and having fun.

The last time we had all been together, I had met over two dozen of Lane’s and Riley’s friends. Which was only the tip of the iceberg. I was sure I’d see most of them my first night in town. I only hoped I could remember at least one of their names.

The rain had started falling harder as I made my way through town. People dashed into and out of buildings, carrying umbrellas. Others shielded their heads with newspapers that had, only hours before, told them everything they needed to know about their day, including the weather.

Another loud rumble of thunder shook my car as I turned onto the tree-lined street that Riley and Lane called home. Nothing had really changed since I had been there. Every house was still as quaint as I remembered. The boys had told me long ago how nice and friendly the neighbors were, and they weren’t kidding.

During my first visit, I had met most of their neighbors. I wasn’t sure if it was because they had told people I was coming or if they were all curious to meet the boy from out-of-town, but every single one of them had been as gracious as could be. I think it was then that I thought, Memphis could grow on me quickly.

As I pulled up to their house, I felt good, finally breathing a sigh of relief. The long drive was over, and now I could say I was home.

Glancing toward the house, I felt a smirk cross my face as I saw Lane leaning against the porch, holding a tall glass, and smiling back. He didn’t need to wave. The glass in his hand was greeting enough for me.

That better not be water, I told him, pulling myself out of the car.

What the hell do you think it is? he shouted back.

Next to my on-again off-again relationship with Jack Daniels, vodka-and-Sprite was my favorite companion, although we hadn’t seen much of each other lately.

Hey, boo, you made it, Riley said, bounding into the guest room. So what’s the plan?

Sleep, I replied wryly.

I knew what was coming next, but I waited to see if I was going to be right. We knew each other pretty well by now, so the odds were in my favor.

Screw that! We’re heading to Dish for happy hour, then to Alex’s for dinner. You can sleep tomorrow.

Seeing the look on my face, without missing a beat, Riley continued, You wanted a social life with friends. Now you got it. Get your ass dressed and be ready in ten.

Riley didn’t say another word. He didn’t have to. Winking at me, he dashed off down the hall, grinning from ear to ear.

Throwing my own words back at me as motivation was a nice move. It made me appreciate how well Riley had come to know me. It took me less than ten minutes to get cleaned up. By the time I made it down the stairs, both Lane and Riley were gloating at the fact that they had been right.

I told you it would work, Riley smugly shouted.

Oh, shut up, I muttered, walking between the pair.

CHAPTER

TWO

Hangovers didn’t usually bother me, but this one was a killer, which meant last night had been a great night on the town. We had started the evening by going to Dish to meet a few friends before heading to Alex’s for dinner.

One drink had led to two and, before I knew it, I was feeling a great buzz running through me as we arrived at Alex’s apartment. It was tradition for the large group of friends to get together every Wednesday night for dinner. With my arrival, things had been pushed up a few days as a way to welcome me to town. Everyone arrived a little early to catch up, enjoy a few cocktails, and hang out while dinner was prepared.

Alex grinned happily as the three of us walked into his home. My mind was a little fuzzy, but thankfully I still remembered everyone there and didn’t worry about feeling out of place.

Hola! Alex greeted happily, wrapping his arms around me tightly. So you made it safely, huh?

Alex was a sweetheart and one Riley’s closest friends. I’d only met him in person once during my visit to Memphis last year, but since then we had stayed in touch by phone and e-mail. He had quickly become one of my dearest friends, too. He was genuinely kind with a great attitude and outlook on life.

Yep, got in about four hours ago, I replied, waving at everyone else in the room.

And judging by the look on your face, I’d say the three of you already went out to celebrate your arrival?

You hush, Riley barked. We stopped for a drink to welcome him into town. That’s all.

I’d believe that, but I know you too well.

It was nice hearing them banter back and forth like that again. I had been lucky enough to be a part of it, but usually only in texting and e-mails. Hearing it again in person quickly brought a smile to my face.

Glancing around at the immaculate apartment, I was surprised to see all of the regulars from their traditional Wednesday dinners in attendance. The weekly ritual was jokingly called church night since it occurred on Wednesday, the day that some people traveled to their place of worship for guidance. In many ways, what Riley and his friends did on Wednesdays was exactly the same thing, minus the priest and need to dress up. It was a good way to break up the week, talk about their days, and blow off steam with the help of a little alcohol here and there.

I thought we were just having dinner? I said aloud.

We are, but I figured it would be nice to invite everyone else for your first night in town. Why not make it a party, right? Alex said with a laugh.

I liked the way he thought. Then again I always had. I was happy at the idea of having dinner with Alex and catching up, but having everyone else around, too, made it even more special.

There was plenty of food scattered around the kitchen counter, waiting to be cooked as soon as Riley got his tight little butt into the kitchen to begin his duties. The alcohol had started flowing long before we arrived. Open bottles of vodka, soda, wine, and several empty bottles of beer, for those with less discriminating tastes, lay scattered in the kitchen and living room.

I still wasn’t sure if we were going to watch a movie or simply sit around and talk after dinner, but I really didn’t care. I was with my new friends, enjoying my first night in my new town, and that was the best part of it.

I spent most of the evening catching up with Alex and Caleb, who was another of Riley’s and Lane’s closest friends. I mingled with the rest of the group and finally felt at ease—a feeling I had been longing for during the whole drive to Tennessee.

Everyone was as friendly and kind as I remembered them being. It was sad to say, but it had been a long time since I had felt comfortable in a group environment like this one. Since I knew everyone to a certain extent, and we were all gay men, I didn’t have to worry about impressing anyone or feel as if I had to be on guard about what I said or did. After being around mostly straight friends back home, it was refreshing to let myself go. This was a new phase in my life, one where I could merely be me and me alone.

I still couldn’t believe that everyone had come over to welcome me into town. There were friends of Riley’s and Lane’s whom I had barely met once before, yet they had taken time out of their day to come over.

Oliver Redding, or Ollie as he preferred to be called, was talking sports with Riley, like they usually did. During college football and basketball season, the pair watched every game they could together, which was fine by Lane who was not a big sports fan. As long as Riley got his sports fix elsewhere, Lane didn’t care whom he hung out with.

Payton Gaul was the youngest in the group. Looking at his face, you would swear he was fifteen. In reality, he was quickly approaching his mid-twenties. His thin frame, endearing smile and brilliant green eyes added to the already adorable package that he was. Normally when Lane and Riley went out of town, Payton was the lucky soul who got to house sit. Living in a one-bedroom apartment was fine but getting to stretch his legs in a two-story, three-bedroom house was great in his book.

Finally, there was Collin Barrett and his boyfriend, Knox Manning. The two had been together for several years but hadn’t officially become a couple. Not that they needed to. As far as everyone was concerned, the two were all but married. The only difference between them and a traditional couple was that one of them usually went back to his own apartment after a few days to get away and do laundry. In many ways, their relationship was something to be jealous of when it came time for wanting a little peace.

So what are you plans now? Payton asked me as he strolled over to the couch where Caleb, Alex, and I had been sitting and gabbing.

I had lost track of how many times I had answered that question and still I knew this wasn’t going to be the last time it would be asked.

First an apartment and then a job.

The job is actually first. He’s not in that much of a hurry to move out of his current residence. It’s like living in a B & B, Caleb joked. I’m sure Riley will bring you breakfast in bed if you ask.

Yeah, but then he’d crawl into the bed with him, Alex added with a chuckle.

I heard that, you bitch! Riley shouted from behind the kitchen counter. I’m standing right here.

Yeah, we know, Caleb replied, laughing uncontrollably.

I felt a slight breeze as a dinner roll flew past my face and hit Caleb dead center in the chest, leaving crumbs scattered across our laps.

That little stunt set the mood for the whole evening. From there, the laughter never seemed to stop. Pretty soon, the jokes, food, and booze were flowing endlessly until everyone realized they had to work the next day. If we didn’t end the party soon, no one would be in any shape to get up the next morning.

As I lay there with a thumping head, I wondered how much I’d had to drink the night before. I had promised myself I was going to take it easy, but I knew now that it was a promise I hadn’t kept.

Without even looking at the clock, I could tell it was late, judging by the sounds coming from outside my door. The boys had already gotten up and started their day. But when I finally glanced at the clock and realized it was almost eleven a.m., I wondered why they were still home on a Monday morning.

After slowly getting myself together, I emerged from the guest room and made my way into the living room. Lane sat on the couch with his feet up, watching an old movie on cable. I looked around for Riley, thinking he was curled up on the couch next to his partner or in the kitchen.

Hey, you’re up, Lane said, grinning at me. How you feeling?

Ugh, was all I could muster as a reply. Things were still spinning a little bit. And as much as I knew I needed to eat, the thought of food was making me feel worse.

Well, you ain’t the only one in bad shape.

Riley? I questioned without much of a guess.

Uh huh, he muttered back. You two really tossed ’em back last night.

Jeez. I didn’t think I drank that much, I told him as I slumped onto the leather couch.

He’s still out like a light. So it’s a good thing we’d taken the day off today. I’m sure he’s gonna make me go out for food pretty soon. There’s coffee in the kitchen if you need some.

Now that idea I could wrap my head around. Coffee was bound to help me a little and maybe after that I could think about eating.

The door to the master bedroom finally opened about an hour later as Riley dragged his lean frame into the living room in silence.

Hey! Lane shouted. How’s it going?

Riley passed us with a look of dread on his face as he wandered into the kitchen, poured himself a tall cup of coffee, and stood motionless at the counter.

Morning! Lane said cheerfully, trying again.

Shove it! Riley replied without skipping a beat.

Yeah, I told you to slow down last night.

And I just told you to shove it.

I had seen this scene play out before so it wasn’t that new to me. Only problem was this time I felt and looked exactly like Riley. All I wanted to do was crawl back into bed and sleep until the weekend.

Ah, it’s okay, Lane said to his partner as he walked over and wrapped his arms around him from behind. You’ve gotten through it before. It’s a little harder now that you’re older. That’s all.

Ah, fuck off, Riley snapped, pulling away. Go get me some food.

Told you, Lane said, looking toward me. What do you want?

Hell, I don’t care.

Okay then. You want anything?

Sure, I mumbled. Whatever you’re getting for yourselves I’ll take.

Lane grabbed his keys off the counter, shook his head at the two of us, and was gone. He was used to the morning after. The only difference this time around was that he had two of us to take care of instead of only one. He was a sweetheart for taking it upon himself to be our nursemaid for what was sure to be the whole day.

Scoot, Riley said to me as he made his way to the couch.

I forgot I had been sitting in his spot so I slid over into Lane’s until he got back. We sat in silence for a while, drinking our coffee. Neither of us wanted to talk because that meant our brains would hurt from thinking.

I hadn’t expected you guys to take the day off today, I finally said.

Riley slurped a little more coffee before finally speaking. Well, the plan had been to take the day off and take you around. Figured you’d want to start looking at apartments today.

Yeah, but it’ll wait. Unless you want me out already?

Nah, not yet, he joked, bumping me with his shoulder. But you’ve got to decide what you’re looking for so I can come up with ideas.

It was great to have a friend who was a realtor. Riley would be able to hook me up with all of the latest listings and know exactly where to look.

That’s easy. I want something nice and cheap, I replied, having already pictured the ideal apartment in my head.

It’s gonna be one or the other, shug. I can’t promise both.

As long as I don’t get shot at going home, I’ll be fine.

Okay. Well, that knocks out half the places I was thinking about.

I knew I had to start thinking about what was next, but it was too soon. I hadn’t even been in Memphis twenty-fours yet. First, I wanted to relax and get my feet wet in town. Then I’d worry about a home and a job. Thankfully, I had been smart and saved as much as I could before leaving California, so I’d be okay for a little while.

For right now, I was going to enjoy my freedom and time with my friends. Even though everyone had been asking me what my plans were, the truth was that I didn’t know. I had a vague idea of what I wanted my new life in Memphis to be like, but nothing was concrete.

I had always been the type of person who planned everything. This time, I was going to take it one day at a time and see what happened. I know it seemed like I was procrastinating, but I wasn’t. I was ready to move on. I was simply going to do it at my own pace.

This time around, I wasn’t going to worry about anything. Life was going to work out and I knew that. If it didn’t, I had a safety net and that was my friends.

CHAPTER

THREE

When people think of Memphis, they invariably think of Graceland and Elvis, Beale Street and its music, or even The Loraine Motel and the assassination of Dr. Martin Luther King Jr., but no one ever really thinks of the city as a whole. Along with its famous landmarks and icons, Memphis is a great place to live.

It may not be New York or L.A. with the never-ending nightlife or chic boutiques of those cities. But Memphis has a soul, which gives it a life all its own. People asked me before I left, and still ask me now, Why would you move there? My answer has always been the same, Because it feels like home.

They didn’t get what I was talking about and I didn’t expect them to. All of the people back home, and the rest of my friends back east, thought I was crazy for moving to the South. It didn’t matter how many times I explained it or how I described the city. All they could see in their closed-off minds was me sitting on a porch, whittling a little farm animal out of a hunk of wood. After a while, I quit trying to get them to understand. They could draw their own conclusions or laugh at me if they wanted to. I didn’t care anymore. I had decided to try something new, and that’s what I was doing.

Listening to the way all of my friends and family had either talked down on or dismissed my idea had only encouraged me to go for what I wanted. It wasn’t until I got to Memphis and started hanging out with everyone again that I knew I had made the right choice. Not one single person in Riley’s close group of friends had questioned my reason to move or thought it was insane. Each one of them had congratulated me on having the courage to relocate and the smarts to choose their city.

Whether or not they were saying it because they lived there, I wasn’t sure and, quite frankly, I didn’t care. These were the people who were supporting me and making me feel at home. They were the reason I had chosen Memphis.

It doesn’t matter what the size of a city is or where it’s located. Every place in America has its own share of problems and issues. Like so many other places, Memphis has its problems. Crime is unusually high and the seasons can be a challenge, especially when it snows (or so I’d heard). But these were small prices to pay for living in a city full of life.

Memphis is diverse. The population in and around Shelby County, where Memphis is located, is about one point two million people. Out of that number, sixty-five percent is black.

Now it doesn’t matter who’s white and who’s black. That’s not the big thing to understand. The color of someone’s skin isn’t what makes you stop and think as you’re driving around. It’s seeing the blatant signs of poverty that affect a large part of the population.

Sure, there were parts of town where people lived in huge homes and had three to four cars to their names. Then you’d round a corner to find a dilapidated shack housing a family of six with no visible mode of transportation. Who knew if there was food on the table. This wasn’t something specific to Memphis and can be found in any city in the country, let alone the world.

You can see it on a daily basis if you go for a run, to the store, or even to church. It made you wonder how two diametrically-opposed social classes could be living so close to one another without anyone doing anything to help. Was it something that was overlooked and ignored? Or had everyone simply gotten so used to it being this way that nobody really did anything to help these folks?

I asked my friends about this after I’d been there for a few days. Surprisingly, they told me it was normal to see this kind of poverty and class separation, but there were people and organizations in town that worked hard to help the families they could and make their lives better.

Memphis was also a giving city with friendly people. Of course, it was the South where people were cheerful and eager to help if you needed them. It didn’t matter if you were lost on the street or your car had taken a tumble down an embankment. You’re sure to find help in one form or another.

Along with the aromatic smells of food being cooked, your senses are aroused by the music that fills the air and helps lift your spirits if your day isn’t going exactly as you had hoped. Many of these things I had already experienced, but it all still felt brand new to me as I strolled leisurely trying to get my bearings.

I had been in town for a week already and it hadn’t even felt like it. Between going out to look for an apartment and a job, spending most nights hanging out with Riley and Lane or sometimes with Caleb or Alex, time had passed quickly.

I had decided that an apartment in Midtown or even in the Cooper-Young district was a good idea. Both areas were relatively close to everything and the neighborhoods were quiet and nice. Now I only had to land a job to pay for a place.

Out of the leads that I had managed to obtain for employment, the only one that sounded halfway decent was an administrative assistant position at a local business run by a friend of Riley’s. It sounded good, but it wasn’t something you wanted to drag yourself out of bed for day after day.

What I really wanted to do was get back to writing—something I had always loved but rarely got a chance to do. Without telling anyone, I had already made a few phone calls to some of the local magazines to see if they were looking for staff help or were offering freelance work. So far, I hadn’t gotten any calls back or even a decent reaction. The thought of working for the newspaper didn’t really interest me. It would mean I’d get to write daily, but the creativity would be stymied due to the assignments or news of the day.

I wanted something that would let me interact with people doing special things or artists creating their lifelong passions. It probably sounded stupid when saying it out loud; but it was something that would make me happy, and that was the point of the move.

No more doing what people expected me to do. No more working jobs for the sake of a pay check. This time, it was my turn to enjoy myself and do what I had always wanted, which was part of why I had ventured out alone today.

After tagging along with everyone for the past several days, I had decided a little me time was in order. I was going to do nothing but walk around Memphis and figure things out. Where were the stores, the best restaurants, and the bars? Although I had