Echoes of Eternity || Short Story

Pαɾƚ Oɳҽ

I never gave much thought to whether magic actually exists, but sometimes you can't ignore the weird occurrences that weave their way into our lives. Like deja vu or unexplainable coincidences. Or the cold, stark feeling you get when you know something bad is going to happen.

Kansas is flat and dry out the car window. The hills roll past the road in waves, gently bobbing up and down. It's a peaceful day, and the inside of the car is warm and sticky, but goosebumps scrape across my skin. A heavy pit thunks into the bottom of my stomach like a bag of ice.

I squirm in my seat, cramped. There's nothing much to do in the car but listen to the radio and wait for your turn to drive. The sun is barely climbing into the middle of the afternoon sky, and I'm already looking forward to stretching out in a hotel tonight, starfished across the bed.

My cell insistently vibrates in my pocket, pressing against my thigh. I refused to look at it. Maybe they'd give up, leave my brother and I alone. But the phone kept vibrating.

The mileage signs pass by like infrequent flags, and I counted them almost anxiously. I glance at my brother, flexing his fingers on the steering wheel with an intensity that tells me he's feeling just as stir-crazy.

"Hey," I say, my voice cutting through the hum of the tires on the road. "Why don't we pull over at that gas station up ahead? I could use a break from this seat."

Ethan glanced at me with a smirk. "You're just afraid I'll leave you stranded in the middle of nowhere."

"As if," I snorted. "If anyone's getting left behind it's your ugly mug."

He shoves me with his shoulder, the car swerving a bit as I immediately grab the wheel. 

"Come on! Just do it, stupid."

As we pull into the gas station, gravel crunches beneath our tires. The pavement is cracked, and the paint on the building is peeling. Ethan parks the car, and we both step out into the dusty air.

"Looks like a slice of heaven," I joked. "Mind running in for some snacks?"

Ethan nodded and headed inside, the chime above the door jingling as he walked in. I watch for a few seconds, waiting. Then, I slip a hand into my pocket and pull out my phone. The area code flashed on its screen like a warning sign. With a deep breath, I tapped the green button.

"Uh, hello?"

"Gen, my dear! You're a hard girl to track down."

"Oh, hey, Aunt Mary. How is it going?"

"Ah, my love, not good." My aunt let a heavy pause fill the line. Finally, I heard her hum sadly. "I imagine you know why I'm calling?"

I closed my eyes and tried to focus on breathing. "It's Nonna, isn't it?"

"Yes, dear, she passed away yesterday afternoon. Poor soul."

I pressed my back against the car door and slid into a crouch. Glancing at the gas station doors, I tried not to let the sudden tightness in my throat come through my words. I didn't want to show weakness during the moment I've been expecting for years. It was no surprise, really. We all knew that Nonna was getting ready to go, to pass on into the great void. The signs were all there. I had accepted it. At least, I thought I had.

"Cool, ok," I fought for words. Shakily, I stood up, cleared my throat, and wiped my eyes. "Thanks for letting me know, Aunt Mary." 

"Are you coming home for the funeral? It's Friday."

I cringed, immediately thinking of how much ground we still had to cover. Ethan wanted to stop in Maine for the puffins, but we'd never make it in time now. If we went. "Well-"

"Now you listen here," my aunt began to scold, her accent coming through in the hard, rough way it did when she was either drunk or pissed. It was scratchy and thick, so I strained to make out all the words. "I know you've got this big trip planned, a last Big Bang before Ethan goes off to college, but this is family. She would've dropped everything for you."

"I know, but Aunt Mar-"

"No excuses!"

I sighed and ran a hand over my face. "Fine, I'll let him know. We'll come home for a few days."

I ended the call with trembling hands. Turning around, I saw Ethan walking back with a bag of snacks, a wide grin on his face.

"Hey, so I got those jellybean things - the taste challenge? And five bucks says you eat shit and I get chocolate."

I hesitated, unable to meet his eyes. "Ethan, we need to talk. It's about Nonna."

His smile faded. "What happened? Is she okay?"

I shook my head slowly, the words heavy on my tongue. "She's gone, Ethan. Nonna passed away yesterday."

"Shit," he whispered. "Nonna..."

"Yeah. Aunt Mary just called. The, uh, the funeral is coming up."

Ethan's shoulders sagged and he suddenly looked five years old again, shivering from the cold as he held my hand. I squeezed his arm, offering what little comfort I could. Without a word, he tossed me the car keys. I caught them mid-air with a sharp clang.

"Guess it's your turn," he said, his voice hoarse.

I nodded, climbing into the front seat. The road trip felt like a distant dream, and as I pulled onto the highway, the car seemed to shake and creak with the weight of our grief.