16. Phoenix

CHAPTER 16

Phoenix

F eeling the rush of the wind around me was a sensation I wouldn't trade for anything. I used to feel this way as a kid, riding my bike down the big hill back into town. Throwing my arms wide I would let the wind rush around me, making me feel like I was a bird in flight. It was the same on my motorcycle. And sometimes, when nobody was around, I spread my arms wide and let that feeling take me just like I was right that moment as I sailed down the last mountain toward Creekside. I had to get my kicks while I could because in a few minutes, I'd be practically bombarded by my family.

Thankfully it was just Mom and Ted. But Mom was enough hassle for at least ten people. She meant well, of course, but sometimes her well-placed intentions caused me a lot of trouble. Considering I hadn't been home in over a year, I figured I was due for some. It was good I'd sent Tony ahead of me to cool them down first.

Well, I didn't send him ahead… more like I told him I was heading out but neglected to say I was going to take a very scenic route. I wanted to make sure he was in Creekside before me so he didn't have a chance to pull anymore of his little tricks. Tony liked to meddle now and then, especially when it came to my parents. I had no doubt in my mind that if I'd gone to Creekside directly, he would've been a good fifteen minutes behind me. However, this way he would surely arrive before me, and I knew he'd be irritated about it. But a quick blowjob once we were back on the road would clear that right up. Besides, he always forgave me. I was too cute to stay mad at, or so he said.

I came to the bottom of the mountain at last and placed my hands back on the handlebars. Thanks to the steepness of the road, I was well over the speed limit. Putting on the brakes, I coasted past the creek that ran down the hill into town. It was the same one, the same spot , where Charlie and I had spent so many summers looking for treasure and pretending we were Indiana Jones. I still wore the opal arrowhead under my shirt every single day despite wanting to forget about him. For some reason, I just couldn't bring myself to get rid of it or even put it away. It was a part of me, a piece of my past that had shaped me into the man I was today.

I was surprised to find the bike rolling to a stop off the side of the road, the kickstand flipping down on the edge of the pavement. Flipping off the engine, I got off the bike and walked over to the creek, leaving my helmet on. I just wanted to look one more time before I left the place forever and I wasn't gonna stay long.

The water was flowing quickly and as I bent down to dip my fingers in, I hissed through my teeth. It was ice cold and definitely the first snow melt of the season. The frigid temperature of the water kept it crystal clear, allowing me to catch a few chunks of obsidian here and there glinting in the sun on the bottom of the creek bed.

It was just like I remembered it. And somehow, the river still maintained its magic. I felt myself drawn down the banks, my feet carrying me to places I hadn't been to in years but remembered like the back of my hand. I hopped a couple boulders along the edge, ducked into the woods, and quickly found the little spot where Charlie and I used to hang out as children.

The ring of stones was still there, although it was no longer charred black. Instead, heavy orange lichen clung to the stones and moss grew around the base. The fallen tree was still there too. When we were kids, it was solid and still had most of its bark. But now the bark had rotted away and the wood was soft as I ran my fingers over it.

The entire place was like a tiny time capsule with all the memories of my childhood wrapped up neatly inside. I wondered at it for several minutes, taking note of how the grass had grown and the trees had thickened. But it was still the same in my mind, as if I'd been there only yesterday.

However, there was one thing out of place. Where the rest of the clearing looked lush and overgrown, as if it had no human contact for years, there was a small patch of bare ground against the old fallen log. I bent down to inspect it, noticing that the dirt was freshly scuffed, as if someone had been there in the past day or two. Mixed into the dirt were little black flecks, like someone had been smoking and ground their ashes into the dirt. There were no other marks, just a spot big enough for a single person to sit.

The moment I saw it, I caught myself wondering if Charlie had been there recently. There was one sure way to find out of course. Ducking behind the log, I found a large flat stone that Charlie always hid supplies under in a waterproof bag. Lifting it away, I found the bag was still there, although it looked much more beat up than I remembered. However, as I pulled the drawstring open, I didn't find ancient marshmallows rotting in a bag. Instead, I found a journal sealed in a plastic bag with a pencil, a fire-starting kit, some scrap pieces of leather, and what looked like a whittled down antler.

I furrowed my brows together, trying to figure out who the items could possibly belong to. For a moment I thought to take them. I didn't know why. Maybe I was hoping that the journal would have some information in it, and I could solve the mystery of who had taken over my special spot and sullied it with their presence. I reached for the journal, ready to tear it open.

But I stopped before my fingers touched the plastic. This place was no longer mine . It hadn't been since high school. I didn't visit it while Charlie was in the hospital, and I never came back to it after I left for college. The tiny paradise of my childhood was no more, and it wouldn't do me any good to pretend otherwise.

My stomach twisted into a cold knot as I stared down at the items. I knew they couldn't belong to Charlie. He'd wanted me out of his life the moment he woke up from that accident. The last thing he would do was come back to this place to relive old memories. My life had changed. I had changed. And without a doubt, so had he. There was no use clinging to that past anymore. It wouldn't make me happy, and it definitely wouldn't bring him back to me.

So, tucking everything back into the bag, I placed it neatly under the flat stone once more and headed back up the bank to my bike. My parents were waiting for me and there was no use making them wait any longer.

The quicker I got into town and got this started, the quicker I could leave this place and never come back.