Leaving Maine, the place that felt like my true home, at the end of this summer had been hard, as it always was, but this time I had the consoling certainty that I would come back to stay as soon as this school year was over. It stretched ahead of me tediously, but I tried to put it into perspective and told myself that it would pass, that it was just a matter of months until I'd come back.

The prospect of finally escaping all those confines I hated so passionately did help me get through the endless boring lessons, through tests and exams, through all the meaningless conversation with Mom and Dan's dinner guests and through Louisa Jackson's attempts at luring me into a relationship. She was still infatuated with me, and she still did not appeal to me in the least. As did none of the other girls, with their flirtatious advances and their superficial perkiness that quickly turned sour if they didn't get what they wanted. There was some ridiculous gossip about what was the real reason that I never romanced any of my female classmates, but I was past caring. Let the idiots call me gay then. I wouldn't be around long enough to feel any need to refute the rumour.

While Mom still had not quite come to terms with my decision not to go to college, she refrained from attempting to make me change my mind – probably not least for fear I might leave for good on the spot if she overdid it. One thing she had come to understand was my aversion to all those social events she'd always made me attend. More often than not, she now granted me exemption from those demonstrations of the perfect little family she and her lady friends so loved to put on.

Dan had ostensibly encouraged me to go my own way, but one day I had overheard him and Mom talking about me. She voiced some concerns, as usual, and he replied, "Let him have his will. Once he sees what hard, monotonous work that is, day in, day out, he'll get those romantic fisherman fantasies out of his head very quickly. He'll be back in a year's time at most, glad to study for some proper job."

This rankled with me for quite a while, cementing my determination to stick to my plans. I didn't expect Mom to comprehend, but Dan's lack of understanding and, even more, his insincerity disappointed me. Well, he would see that I was indeed serious about my career plans. Even if it was not what he'd call a career.

Jess and Janie knew that I would be going away once I had finished school, although they were too young to really grasp that this would mean they wouldn't see much of me any more. Instead, the thought of me working on a boat made their imagination run wild. They kept begging me to tell them about all the adventures I was going to embark on, and I happily made up some wild stories about conquering foreign lands and fighting sea monsters, about swimming with sharks and riding dolphins. Their favourite story, which we elaborated on more and more, featured a tiny island where two beautiful princesses lived, the older of them tall and slender with hazel braids and the other shorter and rounder, with honey-coloured curls, waiting for their seafaring prince to come back from his journeys across the seven seas, his ship loaded with treasures of sparkling gemstones and glowing pearls, of glittering silver and glorious gold.

What I was really seeking was not gold or silver, not fame or measurable riches, but a treasure in its own right. It was no longer so much adventure that I craved, but freedom – freedom from narrow small-town minds, from people's expectations, from my mother's close watch. Freedom to be myself. To spread my wings and fly.

Finally, one bright summer day, school was over. I went through the official graduation ceremony for Mom's sake, to let her have her desired photo of the proud graduate and his parents to show to her ladies, said goodbye to my classmates without any sentimental feelings and packed my bags gladly the day after the celebration.

It wasn't much that I would take with me, just a suitcase and a small canvas bag. Some clothes and shoes, of course, a few books, my penknife, my parents' wedding photo and a shot of me and the girls in the garden, laughing – a reprint of the framed photograph on Mom's desk in the living-room corner. I hesitated about packing some of my favourite sheet music, but as my grandparents didn't own a piano, I decided against it.

Shortly before it was time to leave for the station, Mom took me aside. We stood by her desk, opposite each other, both momentarily unsure of what to say. I wondered if she was remembering another occasion when we had been facing each other in this room. Her mouth tightened for a split second, then she looked up at me and brushed the scar above my lip very lightly with the tip of a finger, her hand moving on to rest behind the nape of my neck for a minute, bowing her head.

Just when I thought she was going to burst into tears, she turned around abruptly and pulled out one of the small drawers of her antique desk.

"I wanted to give you something before you go", she said. "It belonged to your father and I have always thought you should have it once you've graduated. It hasn't been used since he … went."

I opened the dark green leather case and was surprised to find a black fountain pen, looking shiny and almost new. Obviously Dad hadn't used it often. Perhaps he had saved it for special occasions. Love letters to my mother, maybe.

"Thank you, Mom", I said, carefully pushing it back into its sheath, shaken by the thought that my father might have been the last person to have touched it before me. "It's beautiful. And it was ... Dad's. This is ... amazing."

"I used to think you might use it in college", Mom said in a regretful tone.

"I can use it to write to you and the girls", I said, trying not to sound too offended at the not-too-subtle criticism, and put the little case into the breast pocket of my shirt.

"Of course you can." Her tone was conciliatory. Certainly she didn't want another farewell tainted by anger. She looked at the large grandfather clock. "It's time to go now, Mick. Go get your things."

We went off to the station in Dan's car. I was sitting in the middle of the back seat, one of the girls to each side. Both of them kept clinging to me all the way to the platform so that Dan had to carry my suitcase.

Breathing heavily, he dropped it onto the platform and brought out one of his starched white handkerchiefs to wipe his brow.

The train was making its noisy entrance into the station. Mom embraced me, holding me close for a moment. I put my arms around her and hugged her back firmly, something I hadn't done in a very long time. She felt so small in my arms. I bowed my head to kiss her on the cheek.

"Take care, love", she said, blinking.

The moment I let go of her, both girls flung themselves at me again. I knelt down on the platform to accommodate them. Jess, as the taller one, managed to wrap her arms around my neck as tightly as she could before Janie got close. I put one arm around her waist and pulled her against my side while I held out the other arm for Janie. She tried to push Jess away and, failing that, grabbed my free arm and buried her little curly head in my armpit. "Can't we come to live with Grandma and Grandpa, too, Mick?" she said in a muffled, tearful voice.

"No, silly, we can't. I've got to go to school, and so will you soon, and Mick is grown up now and has to go to work", Jess said, letting go of me for a moment to lecture Janie in her best know-it-all big sister manner. "That's life, you know", she added precociously, trying to keep up a contemptuous look down her nose at the little one.

Next thing I knew she threw herself back at me, almost choking me, and dissolved into tears.

"Oh, Jessie. Don't cry. And you too, Janie. I'll write to you often, I promise. And I'll come back to visit you. Or you can come and visit me and Grandma and Grandpa." I struggled to sound cheerful. I didn't have any second thoughts about pursuing my plans, but the girls' distress was tugging at my heartstrings nevertheless. They were what I'd really miss.

I wiped the tears off their soft round cheeks and gave each of them a kiss. "I love you and I will think of you all the time."

The station master was hollering at us to get going. I turned round and quickly climbed onto the train. Dan helped me haul my suitcase up the steps and shook my hand formally, wishing me luck a little stiffly. As the doors were closed, I found a seat in the next compartment and opened the window to wave goodbye.

I watched Jess and Janie wave back eagerly until they were merely little dots of red and white next to Dan and Mom's taller figures and finally disappeared from view completely.

Then I shut the window and sat down, turning my back on my old life, glad about every mile the train took me away from that drab little town in Missouri, towards my freedom.

Back to the simple life I wanted to live.

Back to the sea.

Back home.

I leaned back and smiled.