It was a typical December evening when John’s train slowed to a halt over the snow that fell after the previous train’s departure. Stepping onto the platform, he was welcomed to his hometown with a gust of piercing cold wind and the distant smell of pancakes from the local diner; reminders of why he left and why he’s returned. John dug his chin into his scarf, stuck his bare fist into his pea coat, and with a heavy sigh began his walk towards the town he tried to put behind him for so many years.
He made it to the nearby motel in record time and his mind raced through childhood memories as he checked in and placed his belongings on the bed. It was still early although the sun began its decent and he had a few stops to make while the world was still awake. After splashing water on is face, John put his pea coat back on and was off once more, embracing the inevitable cold.
His first destination was Aunt Madeline’s house. She and Uncle George were inseparable during the sixty-two years they were married and he was sure she would be suffering the most after his death. However, each step grew heavier as he walked through town and the constant snowfall didn’t nothing to help the situation. Should he see Aunt Madeline? Must he really? Although he is eternally grateful and owes them more than he could ever repay for taking him in and adopting him after the fire, he is only in town for Uncle George’s funeral and nothing more. In fact, if it were his uncle who was alive and well, and his Aunt was the one set to be buried, John was certain he would not have come back.
Although they had Sam, a successful lawyer two years older than him, Uncle George treated John at times like the son he’s always wanted. He was by his side through Johns ups and downs and was certainly the father figure John looked up to. His arrival home was guaranteed after receiving word of his uncle’s death and although his insomnia was at times crippling, he was determined to pay his respects.
Aunt Madeline on the other hand clearly didn’t care for John’s presence in the house and made it apparent as passively as she could to not diminish a child’s spirit- but her views were well known, even outside the household.
Walking past Uncle George’s diner, John looked through the glass at the unfamiliar staff tending to customers in the warmth radiating from the kitchen. He remembers walking this same path after school because he didn’t want to go home, their home, and burden them with his school boy troubles. On this occasion, Aunt Madeline was discussing the fire to a regular as she poured him another coffee.
“I don’t care what the fire marshal says, that boy started that fire on purpose. May god bless their souls but they raised a demon in that house, I swear by it! I’ll kick him good if he tries any funny business while he’s with us.”
“I hear ya Maddie, keep Sam away from that boy. Something’s off with him.” The older gentleman huffed as he flipped the newspaper.
John and his aunt locked eyes in that moment, and after holding his gaze, she scowled and went to tend to another customer- as if to reassure him she meant what she said, regardless of his presence.
John kept walking in silent thought until he reached his Aunt’s home, hopelessly shaking away memories. The lights were off and he let out a sigh of relief when nobody answered the door. One stop down.
His next stop was the drug store around the corner. He forgot his charge in his apartment during his frantic last minute packing. John has been forgetting things more and more due to his lack of sleep but luckily his phone’s compatible with the last generic charger they had. He paid the cashier who gave him a weary smile as he handed him back his change. A familiar face? John was too tired to care and was out the door before he could fully hear what the older man asked him.
John’s last destination was the one he dreaded the most- 302 Cherry Hill Lane. As he turned the corner and approached what should have been an empty lot, feelings he didn’t know lived within him rushed to the surface. They built over his childhood home and he didn’t know how to feel about it.
302 Cherry Hill Lane was the location of John’s fondest memories of childhood and his parents. When the house could no longer stand the test of time, the rubble in the empty lot served him as a memorial to times he could never get back. Now, a coffee shop sits upon his sacred ground and he knew not what to do.
John felt the all too familiar numbing heat creep beneath his skin as he tried to process everything- being home for the first time in years, his Uncle’s death and how he left him in his fight to escape his demons, the once empty lot that held his home now filled with a homely coffee shop. He stood there, looking through the window and lost in thought, for thirty minutes before he was startled back to life by a light tap on his shoulder.
Edith is just as slim as John, although he taller than her by over a foot. So when John quickly turned he could barely see the top of her curly brunette crown until he finally looked down to focus on the cheerfully confused, caramel elf that stood before him.
“Is everything okay, sir?” Edith asked carefully. “We’re closing soon but come inside, it’s freezing.”
“Why?”
“Um, it’s freezing outside and it’s only gonna get colder? Besides, you’ll crack a tooth if you clench your jaw any tighter!”
To be honest, John didn’t realize how cold it was until Edith pointed it out- until he was told he’s supposed to be cold right now. He was more so concerned about his personal memorial that was destroyed during his absence. He also didn’t realize he forgot his scarf at the motel so finding the usual warmth for his neck was futile.
Before he could protest, Edith was ushering him inside and insisted he sat by the lit fireplace to thaw his troubles. Moments later, she returned from around the counter with a large cup of Chamomile tea.
“It’s on the house, that’s my special stash. I’d offer you coffee but it’s getting late and it looks like you haven’t slept in days” Edith said as locked the front door. And began stacking chairs.
“Thanks.” John replied, looking everywhere but the fireplace.
Edith briskly walked over to see how he was doing while throwing her apron and elf ears on the other side of the couch.
“So like I said before, is everything okay? I saw you looking through the window for a while and I wasn’t sure if I should call the police or a medic.” She chuckled as she went off to turn off more lights and stack more chairs. “I’m Edith by the way. Edith Bryce. Sorry, I’m bad at introductions.”
Edith found her way back to John after prepping the ovens for the morning’s baked goods, just as he opened the door to leave. The heat from the fire became too much to bear under his pea coat and watching Edith buzz about as she closed down made him anxious.
“John. John Sullivan”
“Nice to meet you, John. I hope you’re feeling better.”
They walked across town through the snow before parting ways at the Diner. Edith and John shared a love of late walks, venturing out when the world slept and couldn’t pass judgment on them. John explained the reason for his visit and as they approached the diner, Edith gave John a hug and said “This is my stop, but my condolences John. Have a good night.”
His nights were never good though. Not since his parents death. He developed insomnia after his first panic attack during a lecture his Junior year, around the same time his Uncle became ill. He had horrible nightmares of the night he was orphaned and carried the burden of guilt on his shoulders ever since.
John was twelve when he woke up cold and thirsty one November night and went downstairs for a glass of water. Walking past the fireplace he noticed the fire dying and rather then wake up his parents to put more wood, he did it himself. He did it properly as he’s seen his mother and father do several times, and went to bed with his thirst quenched and warmth soon too come. The chimney fire sparked hours later and John would carry that guilt with him for many years to come. The fire marshal assured him the chimney was filthy due to years of negligence and it would have happened the next time it was used, regardless of if John added a log or his father. But that’s not how he and others saw it.
Sure enough, John had a fire fueled nightmare once again after just two hours of sleep and after splashing water on his face, he left his motel to wander the cold, sleeping town he once knew. As he approached the diner once again, he heard the wails of a drunk off in the distance. “I wish I couldda traded you in for her that day! A refun! Fuck off dammit, I’ll take ‘em how I want!” the man slurred. In John’s line of work, he’s accustomed to working with patients who take their pain relievers with alcohol and he shook his head and sighed- the world wasn’t completely asleep yet.
Just as he turned the corner Edith rushed past and they collided, nearly falling into a nearby snow pile. She apologized and John asked if she needed company wherever she was going. He noticed the tears she tried to brush off and it’s the least he can do since she helped calm his nerves not long ago.
They sat on a bench while she unloaded her troubles onto him and John listened on in silence. “My mother died giving birth to me,” she explained. “And my dad decided to name me after her instead and pushed my original name, Bryce, over so it became my middle name. He blames me for it every chance he gets but can’t blame him I guess. Imagine how different things would be if I was a Bryce instead of an Edith.”
Edith looked up into the sky which was as empty and vast as her tone.
“Why don’t you find out then? How different things would really be as Bryce I mean.”
She turned, offended that he could suggest such a thing. “Probably because of the same demons that keep you up. The same reason you enjoy the night as much as I do, I mean..”
After a moment of silence, Edith got up and looked around. “You know, you and I are alike John” she sighed. “We’re both paperbacks acting like hardcovers. Anyway, I have to open in a few hours. Enjoy your funeral, if you can.” And she was off.
John couldn’t enjoy the funeral. He hadn’t slept and kept thinking of Edith. He didn’t mean to offend her, and he kept thinking about their talk. He looked horrible, running only on two hours of sleep and coffee. Aunt Madeline kept her distance the whole time and he left without saying his goodbyes or even saying hi to his cousin. They didn’t want him there, and as they buried his only bridge to the family, he knew he had no reason to return.
John found his way back to the coffee shop as Edith was clocking out on her shift. He apologized for being insensitive and they walked to the bench they sat on not long too long ago. He explained the reason behind his insomnia, the reason she saw him staring blankly through the window last night, and as they sat she smiled and gave him another hug.
“I knew we were similar.” She said. “And you didn’t upset me. I just never considered what you said. You’re right, I need to find out what it’s like.”
She looked at him and grinned widely. “I put my 2 weeks in! I’m gonna leave Edith and this town behind and see what Bryce has to offer out there. I might be a paperback, but I still have chapters to fill up and my own worthwhile story, ya know?”
“Yeah.” John knew what she meant with great detail. He loved his parents but he couldn’t keep living like this. The sleepless nights, the guilty, and the pain was all to much to bear and no one benefits from his martyrdom. Speaking openly about the fire with Edith was cathartic for John and made him realize he can’t change the past. He too has a story of his own and the fire is only a chapter among many. “I know what you mean. I think I’ll finally be able to sleep tonight.”