Khael's hand snapped back, and his head turned quickly. But he relaxed almost immediately when he saw what it was.
It was just the old man, holding a bag.
"Here," the old man said as he passed the bag to Khael.
"???" Khael looked at it, unsure of what was happening. Before he could ask anything, the old man spoke again.
"There are some clothes and food in there."
"I'm good–"
"Don't tell me you're planning to stay in those dirty clothes. Think of it as a gift from me."
Khael had a look inside the bag after opening it. A few sets of clothes, bottles of water, cakes, and pastries were there.
"Go get changed. I'll wait right here."
Khael remained silent. He entered the tiny bathroom inside the door building, washed his face and put on the new clothing. There was a black jacket and black trousers to go with the white t-shirt. Looking at himself in the mirror made him feel a little better. When he returned to the truck and sat on his seat, the old man started the engine, and they set off again, back on the road.
As the sky lightened with the coming day, they reached a small town. It was so tiny that Khael could see both the start and end of it from where they were. There were only a few houses, a small mall, and a school. It looked like something right out of a movie.
He watched the people as they went about their day. They seemed happy, some kids running around and playing. He got out and helped the old man with unloading the truck. Once they were done, they got back into the truck and headed off again, this time toward another town.
This one was a little bigger, but not by much. Khael helped the old man once more, and after they finished, they were back on the road. The old man continued his journey, moving from town to town, delivering goods to people who lived far out in the countryside.
On the third day, as they drove, Khael noticed the familiar sight of a river winding alongside the road. The water sparkled in the sunlight.
Up ahead, he saw a small town.
The town looked neat and developed, with clean streets and rows of houses. Green fields surrounded the town. Khael could feel it in his bones—this was Eastlake. After everything he'd endured, every step through hell, he had finally made it.
The old man pulled the truck to a stop by the side of the road. Khael kept his excitement hidden, stepping out casually.
"Are you not going to come out?" Khael asked.
The old man shook his head. "Sorry, kid. I've got some work to do in the next town."
"But you said you had work here…"
"Well, the work is done. Now off to the next adventure."
Khael looked at the man for a second, then smiled.
"Alright, then. Thanks for the ride."
The old man smiled. "No problem, kid. Adiós"
Khael watched as the truck drove off, disappearing down the road. He stood there for a moment. Then, he took a deep breath and looked ahead at the houses.
He couldn't believe he was finally back after all these years. It felt like walking through a dream he didn't want to end. To make sure it was real, he pinched his arm, and the pain confirmed it. Without thinking, he started running. The road blurred beneath his feet as he veered off into the open field. The tall grasses brushed against him, swaying gently in the wind, and for a brief moment, he felt like a carefree kid again.
There were so many things he could do now that he was home, so many places he wanted to visit. But the first thing on his mind was seeing his mother. His heart raced at the thought. But as much as he wanted to rush to her, he needed a little time to take it all in first, to adjust to being back.
He spent the next few hours walking around town, exploring the places he hadn't seen in years. He stopped by the old bridge that crossed the river and sat down on the edge, watching the fish swim lazily in the water. It was quiet, peaceful. After a while, he found a bench under a tree and sat there, just thinking. The town seemed frozen in time, still and calm.
He walked down the familiar footpath, passing the houses he knew so well. The morning was quiet, with no one out on the streets. As he passed the house next to his, his heart began to beat faster. He was so close now. He slowed his pace and his breaths kept getting quicker with every step.
But when he passed the house, he stopped dead in his tracks. His lips curled into a smile, but it quickly faded as he stared ahead, confused.
Instead of a house, all he saw was an empty field with tall grasses.
Did I get the location wrong?
He thought he must have made a mistake, but it seemed impossible. He double-checked the surrounding houses. They were the same ones he remembered, nothing out of place. With no other answer, he knocked on the neighbor's door.
An old woman answered, looking at him with a curious, unfamiliar gaze.
"Who are you?" she asked.
Khael didn't know her either.
"I'm looking for the woman who used to live next door. About this tall." He raised his hand to just below his chin.
The woman shook her head. "She sold the house and moved out years ago"
"…"
Khael's face fell. He looked down.
"Are you in trouble, dear?" The old woman's voice softened as she noticed the look on his face.
He blinked and pulled himself back to the present. "Uh, no. Thank you."
The woman gave him a sympathetic look before closing the door.
He moved to the next house and knocked, but no one answered. He tried again, but still nothing. Another house. This time, a young boy opened the door just enough to peek out.
"???" his wide eyes were staring up at Khael, looking like he was about to call for help.
Khael sighed and stepped back. He knew he'd get nowhere with a kid who looked that nervous. He tried a few more houses, but most were empty, and those who did answer either didn't know or were new to the area. No one seemed to know anything about the house where his mother once lived.
After what felt like hours, he finally sat down on a nearby set of stairs. Bit by bit, he started to accept the truth—his mother had moved. She was gone.
Am I missing something?
He glanced at a few more houses up the street but didn't bother knocking. If they were new, they wouldn't know him or his mother.
But there was one person who might.
Standing up, he walked to the only grocery store in town. It was a short distance away, just down the road from where his old home had been.
When he pushed the door open, a bell chimed overhead. The store was nearly empty, with shelves stocked with the same familiar products from years ago. It felt oddly comforting, like time here had barely moved. Behind the checkout counter was a young man in a shop uniform and a black cap.
"Hey, Felix, my boy!" Khael called out, walking up to him. "How've you been, buddy?"
Felix was the only person Khael ever saw working here. He wasn't very talkative and avoided people. But Khael never cared about that. He called him Felix, even though the guy never seemed to appreciate it.
As usual, Felix gave him a cold, blank stare.
"How can I help you, sir?"
"You could at least congratulate me for coming back after all these years from the war."
"Congratulations." It was flat and lifeless.
"I'll take that. By the way, do you know what happened to my house?"
Felix raised an eyebrow. "Did you forget where you moved?"
"No," Khael replied quickly. "Who said I moved out? I went to my house earlier, and it wasn't there. I wanted to ask the others, but I don't know anyone around here anymore."
"Most of the people were forced to leave when the town was marked as a dangerous place to live. After the war, some sold their houses, and new people moved in."
"Ohh," Khael said, nodding slowly. "That makes sense. What about my mom? Did she ever mention anything about moving out?"
Felix gave him a puzzled look, as though he was having trouble understanding Khael's question.
"How would she tell me anything? She's gone."
"That's what I'm trying to know—where did she go?"
Felix's face turned serious. "She's dead, sir."
Khael's breath caught. "What?"
Felix didn't change his expression. He just stared at Khael who struggled to process what he'd just heard.
"W-wait, How? When? She was fine three years ago. What happe—"
Felix interrupted him. "What are you talking about, sir?"
"???"
"She died nine years ago."