When I put the address into Google Maps, the pin appears in what looks like the middle of an open field. Strange but somewhat expected after what my mom told me. It will take over three hours to get there so I plan on this being an all day ordeal. My only hope is that Xander actually lives at this place and it isn’t just a wild goose chase.
The winter weather in Minnesota is always unpredictable and of course snow started falling as soon as I left my house. My car wasn’t the most reliable in these conditions and the bald tires slid along the slick highway as I increased my speed. The steering wheel shook from the effort but that could also be from my nerves.
I was desperate to reach Xander and a tiny storm wouldn’t stop me. The past twenty-four hours were exasperating as I prepared for my trip. I was ready for any emergency that might come my way. I made sure the first-aid kit was in my trunk. There were extra blankets in the backseat and a bag of essential supplies rested next to me in case I got stranded.
The fluffy snowflakes transform into a blinding blast of white as I keep a steady foot on the gas pedal. The farther I traveled, the worse it got, but I refused to turn back. I was being handed an overdue opportunity to see Xander and I refused to turn back. I was intrinsically motivated to see my friend and finally find out what happened to him.
I’ve always been the responsible one, the caretaker, and the person others relied on in times of need. It’s no surprise I went into the human services field. When Xander dropped all communication with those of us back home, I knew I would never be able to rest until I got answers.
The app alerts me that my destination is approaching on the right. Visibility is pretty minimal but I’m going slow enough that I can stop as soon as I see the house. Or so I think. Turns out the place is settled far back from the road. The only evidence of an avenue to reach it is marked by a broken post sticking straight up on one side.
The driveway is a serious challenge to navigate due to the deep layers of snow hindering my travel. By the time I reach the house, my hands are cramping from the fierce grip I’ve had on the steering wheel. I’m so relieved to have survived mostly unharmed that I don’t pay attention to the condition of the building I am now parked in front of. Until now. There is no possible way anyone is living in there. It looks totally deserted. From the sunken roof to the dismantled porch, this shack seems beyond repair.
I didn’t come all this way to just turn around upon assumption. Forcing my car door open brings a cold blast of wintery wind to freeze my face. Lovely. The dense powder reaches my knees when I start trudging my way to the questionable stairs. My boots sink further with each step. Not willing to take any chances, I forgo the stairs and hop directly onto the porch. From what little I can see through the cracks in the boards across the windows, it looks like all lights are off and no one is home. I give a tentative knock just to make sure.
As the door swings open, the beaming smile I had plastered on my face instantly disappears. I have to try extremely hard not to let the gasp escape past my lips. I think I succeeded but the stranger standing in front of me gives no hint one way or the other. This man is the definition of intimidating and I’m not quite sure how to handle this situation.
He’s not the Xander I used to know. That much is obvious. In the three years it’s been since I last saw him, he appears to have aged fifteen. The lower half of his face is covered in a thick beard, his hair has grown out and almost reaches the bottom of his ears, his shoulders appear wider than the doorframe, but it’s the haunted look in his eyes that frightens me the most.
What happened to my best friend?
As I’m busy digesting these changes, I fail to notice Xander’s death grip on the wood and the angry growl coming from his throat. Is he really growling? Sounds like it. Pretty sure he would have white foam coming out of his mouth if possible. This man is clearly not pleased to see me. I know he would never hurt me but I can’t help feeling cautious when he’s got that dangerously violent look to his stare.
Raw.
Dark.
Detached.
Yet somehow thrilling.
We are both still staring at each other, not making any movements, and I start to feel impatient. I have a horrible habit of having to always fill awkward silences and I’m scared my big mouth might cause serious issues right now. Why is he just standing there? Does he not remember me? Maybe he has memory loss . . .
Seriously, how long can this game of chicken go on? My fingers are knotted together with nervous energy while his are clenched so hard his knuckles are white. I should be the one to say something. Right? I’m clearly the idiot who showed up unannounced and obviously unwanted.
This moment revives a distant memory, from an extremely different time. When Xander and I first met, we were children. He was new in town and had wandered into the neighborhood park where I was playing. I turn my face away from this drastic contradiction to the kid I met that day. As tears build in my eyes, I let the past wash over me.
I pumped my legs faster so I could swing higher. I loved the feeling of flying, even though I was scared of heights. It was so fun to compete with my friends to find out who was the bravest. On my next downward pass, I caught sight of a boy around my age. He was alone and standing on the outer edge of the playground. He looked really sad and lonely so I decided he needed a pal.
I wasn’t supposed to talk to strangers but this didn’t count. I jumped off my swing and skipped over to the mysterious newcomer. He saw me coming and got a weird look on his face. Maybe he doesn’t feel good. When I was standing in front of him, I stuck out my little hand to properly introduce myself.
“Hi. My name is Willow Connor and I am eight years old. What’s your name?” I made sure to smile so he knew I wanted to be friends.
He stood still for a while before slipping his cool palm against mine so we could shake. I got a funny flutter in my tummy when he touched me, but it was a nice feeling, so I didn’t pull away. We stared at each other without saying anything until I got antsy. I loved talking so I didn’t understand why he was so quiet.
I tried again. “Do you want to play with me?” When he nodded his head and took a small step closer, I decided he was just shy. I could speak for both of us. No problem. That actually sounded really great and I decided we would be best friends.
A pleasant warmth blankets me as I recall the importance of that day. Once I dragged Xander around, explaining my favorite things, he relaxed and told me his name. Our bond seemed to form overnight and we became inseparable. I couldn’t give up on him. Not then, and definitely not now.
“Xander?” I manage to squeak out. Before I can say more, he takes a step closer and, if possible, displays a more menacing look. The younger version of him fades quickly into smoke. My precious memories don’t belong here.
“I thought I made it perfectly fucking clear last week by not answering the door that I want to be left the hell alone. You think I’m living out here to get bothered by anyone that randomly decides to stop in for a visit? NO! So turn the fuck around, get in your car, and LEAVE. ME. ALONE!” With that jarring roar, he steps back and slams the door with such force the whole front of the house shudders.
I’m left standing on the porch in shock. That was definitely not the way I envisioned our reunion going. The absolute devastation echoes through me as I consider what must have taken place for Xander to become the person I just saw. He was so mean and so . . . so cold. My friend was never rude a day in his life but this man was bitter and furious.
What happened?
With no other choice, I turn around to leave. The snow is falling even harder now as I stumble back to my car. There is no way I’m getting out of this driveway but I don’t want to risk another encounter with that behemoth of a man. I’ll sleep in my car if I have to. I don’t think Xander took the time to notice how many inches were already covering the ground. I don’t think he noticed much of anything at all.