Chapter 3

November 24, 2012

Kurt was shaking. Or maybe the world was shaking, he wasn't sure. He didn't care anyway. All that mattered was the warmth around him that made him feel really happy.

"Bud, wake up," he heard a voice from somewhere far away and the shaking began again.

The teenager groaned and lifted his head from the pillow, his eyes opening just a little. He was disorientated and it took a while for him to understand that it was his dad who was leaning over him, his hand shaking his shoulder. Kurt looked at the man for a couple of seconds and lowered his head on the pillow again, feeling the sleep taking over again.

"No going back to sleep," Burt said and once again Kurt's body shook.

Kurt made an indistinct noise and rubbed his face hard into the pillow. "What's the time?" he asked when he finally lifted his head again, this time with a bit more consciousness.

"Half past eight. Now get up. Up, up, up."

"Half past eight? I just fell asleep," Kurt whined but sat up in the bed, trying hard to keep his eyes open.

"I'm sorry but we have loads to do this weekend," Burt said and went to the door, ready to leave the room. "Besides, we need to fight the jet lag and forcing yourself to get up at a normal hour should help."

Kurt stood up and stretched his stiff muscles. "You are way too cheerful for a person with a jet lag, you know."

"Well, it's not me who spent most of the car trip sleeping."

"That was a mistake," Kurt said and went to the bathroom at the same time as Burt left the room.

The bathroom, just like the whole house, was empty, without a personal touch and Kurt couldn't wait for the moving company to bring their stuff so he could begin making the house look like a place where actual people lived. He also had a plan to go to the mall, which they passed by when they arrived a day before. If he was lucky, they would have a nice shop with interior items.

After brushing his teeth Kurt stepped into the shower and decided it would be for the best to have a cold shower hoping that it would help him clear his head. Unfortunately, it didn't help and on his way downstairs after getting dressed he was just as sleepy.

"Coffee?" Burt offered with a smirk as soon as he saw his son entering the kitchen.

"One litre, please," Kurt managed and watched his dad pour the heavenly liquid into a medium size mug with cows.

"I'm making toast," the man said proudly.

Luckily for them a small grocery shop nearby was still open when they went looking for a place to buy food the day before so they bought stuff that would help them last through the weekend. On Monday they were planning to go to a proper supermarket to fill their fridge and cupboards.

"No, you are burning toast," Kurt said and sipped his coffee.

Burt turned around and saw two blackened pieces of toast jump out of the toaster. "Oh come on..." he groaned and threw the pieces into the trash bin. "I can't wait for our toaster to arrive."

"Speaking of which, do you know when we are getting our stuff?" the teenager asked and went to play with the settings of the toaster.

"I got a call earlier in the morning," Burt said and sat down on a kitchen chair as Kurt began to make breakfast. "They should be here in two hours or so."

"You could have let me sleep a bit longer then!" Kurt frowned.

"I was thinking that maybe, if you wanted to, we could go visit your mother after breakfast."

Kurt felt a lump forming in his throat at the mention of the trip to the graveyard. Of course he wanted to go, he had been dreaming of visiting his mother's grave for years, especially during the most important dates like her birthday, mother's day, or her death anniversary.

"I'd love to," he said and put the finished pieces of toast on the plate.

They ate slowly, planning how it would be most efficient to unpack and where they could store the unopened boxes until those were ready to be dealt with. With every mouthful of coffee Kurt felt more and more awake and although he wasn't at his full capacity, his mind was working well enough to help his dad brainstorm.

Once they finished eating, Kurt washed the dishes, changed into proper clothes, and soon they were sitting in the car, which they would have to bring back to the rental company on Tuesday. As they drove through the town, he looked around to see what kind of shops Lima had. It wasn't until Kurt saw someone crawling with a leash on a person's neck that was held by a man, that the boy decided to focus on his phone instead and sent a message to a group chat to his friends in France.

Kurt didn't know what he had expected. At school they learned about slavery, it was nothing new to him. And when he found out they would be moving back to Lima, he researched a bit more and saw many photos and videos, and also read various stories. Still, seeing a man on a leash so close to him was different because now he was painfully aware that it all actually existed, it wasn't just a story to scare kids from misbehaving.

When the message was sent the teenager began to look through his photo gallery just so he would have something to look at. He thought he was doing a better job at pretending but obviously he didn't because soon Burt broke the silence.

"You won't be able to ignore it forever," he sighed. "I know I told you not to look yesterday but maybe it was a bad advice. If you don't get exposed to these images, you will never get used to them."

"That's the thing, dad, I don't want to get used to them. It's not something that people should see as a normal thing. It's wrong and I'd rather not see it at all."

"I know, Kurt, I know... Maybe one day the world is going to change."

Kurt nodded but didn't say anything. The rest of the drive was silent and not long after their conversation they were parking their car by the graveyard. They got out of the car and as soon as Burt locked it, they began to walk to the grave that Kurt could hardly remember but it seemed like Burt knew his way.

The day was chilly and the coffee had kicked in while driving so now Kurt was fully awake, his heart beating fast as they got closer and closer to his mother's resting place that he had visited so few times in his life.

Burt who was walking in front of Kurt stopped and the boy followed his gaze to the tombstone that had his mother's name on. They stood in front of it without a word, both deep in their thoughts, Kurt's tears running freely down his face. To comfort him Burt placed his hand on the teenager's shoulder and Kurt leaned into the touch until his head was resting on his dad's shoulder.

"I miss her so much," Kurt cried.

"Me too," Burt said, rubbing Kurt's upper arm. "But at least now we are closer to her and you can come visit her whenever you want."

The boy let out a shaky breath. "You are right."

They stayed there for a few more minutes until Kurt calmed down and Burt suggested going home. And while it wasn't a home just yet, they knew that soon they would make it feel like it.

The drive back was filled with some banter as Kurt brought up the topic of a makeover for Burt.

"I'm just saying that nobody knows you here and you can be whoever you want and wear whatever you want. Everyone will think it's your normal style anyway. It's a great opportunity to start fresh," Kurt reasoned, tired of seeing his dad in plaid.

"There are a few people in Lima that I know. Besides, I'm comfortable with what I'm wearing."

Kurt sighed defeated once again in this ongoing war. "You would think that someone who has lived in France for so many years would have a better taste in clothing."

"What about you though? Are you going to change your style?" Burt teased Kurt, knowing the answer already.

"My style is perfect," they both said in unison, Burt mocking the teenager.

"Unbelievable," Kurt muttered to himself, but loud enough for his dad to hear.

"Let's make a deal," Burt suggested and Kurt perked up. "I'll let you give me a makeover if..."

"If?"

"...if you let me give you one," the man said with a devilish smirk.

Kurt glared at his dad. "It's unfair, you knew I would say no."

"All is fair in war and clothing."

"Agreed."

Finally they reached the house before Kurt even realised they were in their street. The moving van was still not there so they entered the house and went to their respective bedrooms to change into more comfortable clothes. After spending his morning in tight jeans, Kurt felt relief once he got into his sweatpants and an oversized hoodie.

Half an hour later both Hummels and people from the moving company were walking into and out of the house numerous times until all their belongings settled in various rooms. Burt tipped the men and the van left. He went into the living room where Kurt was staring at the boxes scattered around the place.

"Let the fun begin," Burt said and opened the first box.