Page 1 of Return To You

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Ethan

“Ethan? Holy fuck, man!” The voice jolts me, and I nearly spill gas on the bike’s tank. It was bound to happen. I just didn’t think I’d be recognized as soon as I rolled into Emerald Creek.

I’m technically not even there yet. I stopped for gas on the side of the road when the village was in sight. I need a minute to gather myself.

I hang the dispenser back and turn to face whoever it is calling my name. Long, assured steps. A big smile on someone’s face that used to sport a frown.

“Colton, man.” I extend my hand, but he grabs me in a bear hug and slaps my back.

“Fuck! It’s been what? Five, six years?”

“Ten.”

He pauses, starts to say something, then stops.

I was here, five, six years ago. Not gonna forget that. I just spent the short time drunk so it would go by faster.

But now is different.

I’m different.

“What brings you back?” He glances at my bike. “Visiting your old digs?”

“It’s Ma’s birthday.”

“Oh nice. I didn’t know. When is it?”

“Sunday.”

“I didn’t know,” he repeats himself. “Ten years, wow.”

“I see ’em now and then,” I say, feeling the need to justify myself. To explain that I’m not a complete piece of shit who walked out on his family and never saw them again.

“Yeah-yeah-yeah. Craig—uh, your dad—he likes to brag. ’Bout where they went to visit you.” He lets out a short, kind laugh. “What was it…uh… Greece? Turkey? Germany?”

Yup, ten years in the Air Force, you get to see some pretty awesome places. Some not so great, too, or less exotic.

I see my siblings, too, but less often. I always find myself on a mission on Christmas and Thanksgiving, and I never complain about it. I’ve been known to volunteer a lot.

But I need to put an end to that.

The reasons I ran away? They’re making less and less sense to me now, and that’s why I’m able to come back.

I blamed myself for the accident that badly injured my brother and took his passenger’s life. I wasn’t driving, I wasn’t at the scene, but at the time I thought, for sure, if I’d done something different that night, said something different, it wouldn’t have happened.

Now that I’ve seen combat and operations, I can tell you: shit goes wrong all the time, and there’s fuck nothing you can do about it, even with the best planning, even when you anticipate all that shit. There’s more shit coming at you. And there’s nothing else you can do than do your best.

So, running scared from a little town in Vermont because you think you messed up? Not worth it. We only have one life to live.

Hey, even the girl who broke my heart is gone. Married, lives in Texas. There’s no chance I’ll run into her. Hell, running into her brother first thing is the closest I’ll get to a past that’s way behind me now.

“It’s good to see you, Colt. This your place now?” It’s a rhetorical question. Colton used to work here, but he’s clearly the owner now, judging by the name painted on the facade. Funny how things change.

The garage I’m looking at is nothing like I remember. Gone is the junk in the front. In its place, a vintage baby blue Chevy. The gas pumps are still old as dirt, but they seem in good working order. They’re clean, and there’s rags and stuff to clean the windshields. Hell, the small office even has potted flowers that someone seems to water.

“Nice bay you got there.” The main improvement is in the garage, and Colton straightens proudly at my words.

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