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Duck is 24 when he meets Indrid for the first time, but neither of them know that.
Duck has just graduated from college, gotten his degree, and... had to move back home with his parents. Being around Jane is a plus, but he’s 24 and his mother has painted his room pink again in his absence. Minerva shows up that first night back at home. He’s so fed up. He’s not sure what he’s saying when it comes out of his mouth.
“Do you fucking get it? I don’t want to be the chosen one! I never will be! I don’t want this damn sword! I want a normal life! Get out of my life! Don’t come back!”
Minerva doesn’t show up the next night.
Duck runs away from home.
Duck meets Indrid as he’s walking along the highway out of Kepler with his thumb out. The Winnebago is driving in to Kepler. But it stops anyways.
“Where are you headed?” The man who rolls down his window has short black hair, combed back neatly on his head. He is wearing bright, reflective, red sunglasses and a garishly bright orange T-shirt. The corners of his mouth crinkle just slightly when he smiles. Duck pins him at around 30.
“Anywhere but Kepler.” Duck says.
The man taps his chin. “I’m afraid I was just headed to Kepler.”
Duck shrugs. “‘S alright. I’ll find my way.”
The man pauses. “Why don’t I drive you out of town a ways, and you tell me why it is you want so badly to leave.”
Duck shrugs. He doesn’t know this man. He might kill him. Oh well. Win-win.
The man introduces himself as “Andy”, but Duck has a feeling that’s not his real name. He introduces himself as “Martin”.
“Tell me Martin,” Andy says, turning the wheel in a roundabout and heading back out the way he came. “Why are you so eager to leave Kepler?”
Duck slumps into the seat, looking out the window. “I dunno. Got some shitty family. Don’t wanna be around em.”
Andy gives him a look of sympathy. “Got any good family?”
He shrugs. “Got a sister. She’s pretty great.”
“Shouldn’t you stay for her?”
Duck runs a hand through his short hair. He doesn’t like it as much as longer hair, but with longer hair his mother has a reason to tell him he’s going through a phase .
“Mom’s pretty shitty.”
“Pretty shitty,” Andy repeats, rolling the words on his tongue. “Funny how that sounds.”
Duck smiles a little and raises an eyebrow. “What?”
“Pretty shitty.” He says again. “Kitty, city, pity.”
Duck laughs. “Are you some sort of weird rhyming creature? Not a normal guy named Andy, no, some sort of sphinx. Answer my riddles three, or some shit?”
Andy laughs, and it’s much louder than he looks possible of laughing. He looks a bit frail, up close. “No, I’m not a sphinx , Martin.”
Duck smiles. “Dunno. There’s a lotta shit about spooky, scary cryptids here in West Virginia.” He says, wiggling his fingers with a smirk.
Andy smiles at him out of the corner of his eye. “Like what?”
“Well, I dunno, I’m not an expert.” Duck says, staring into the trees out the window. “Bigfoot, probably. That Mothman thing.” Andy’s grip tightens on the wheel, but Duck doesn’t see. Duck shrugs. “I don’t really believe in that stuff. You?”
Andy’s smile replaces his frown before Duck can turn his head to look back at him, and he says, “No, neither do I.”
“Why are you goin’ in to Kepler?” Duck asks, sensing a strange tension.
“Need a new place to live,” Andy says with a shrug. “Seems like a quiet town. I like quiet.”
“Yeah, it sure is nice. If you like bein’ bored out of your mind.”
Andy smiles as he makes a turn. Duck has no idea where they’re going. “I like quiet.”
Duck drums his fingers on the dashboard. “Where’re we goin’?”
“I don’t know!” Andy says with a grin and a chuckle. “An adventure, I suppose.”
Duck sees the trees wave by. An adventure sounds nice. “Hell yeah,” he says, flashing a grin at Andy. They keep driving for what feels like forever, deeper into the trees. Andy rolls down his window, and the wind wrestles his hair free from the gel. He hums as the wind parts his hair in ribbons and makes a rose flush to his cheeks.
He looks kind of beautiful.
Duck turns away as he feels heat creep up his neck. I just met this guy half an hour ago. I don’t think Andy’s even his real name. He’s like 6 years older than me. I JUST graduated college.
A song comes on the radio that Duck doesn’t recognize, but Andy’s posture perks and he cranks the volume up. “This one is my favorite!” He looks so full of joy. Carefree, light, airy. He throws an arm out the window and lets the wind weave through his fingers. He throws his head back and laughs.
He’s moving to Kepler.
After enough driving, Duck has Andy drive him back to Kepler. Andy smiles like he’s accomplished something.
“I don’t know what, Martin,” he says as he gives Duck a firm handshake. “But I feel like your role in this town is going to be great.”
They don’t see each other again for 22 years. Duck is 46, standing in front of a Winnebago that looks suspiciously familiar, but he can’t quite recall. That day two decades ago is foggy. The door opens, and a man stands there. He’s Sylvan, Duck knows that much, so he is definitely older than he looks, but he looks around Duck’s age. He has a smile that Duck can’t place. His glasses look a lot like the ones on the man he met so long ago, but they’re different. Bigger. Less orange tinted. Indrid doesn’t recognize Duck, either. “Martin” had had short hair, much lighter brown than Duck’s. Freckles had dotted his cheeks here and there. He’d looked locked away, waiting to be brought to life. Duck looks... tired. Just tired.
They’re strangers to each other, once again. Strangers looking each other in the eye, once more not truly knowing who the other is. One stands in a Winnebago. The other, waiting for adventure to take him far away.
Indrid and Duck are sitting in Indrid’s Winnebago when the topic comes up. They’re drinking egg nogs and curled up on the couch, not even thinking of how close they are. Too wrapped up in the conversation.
“What is the weirdest thing that ever happened to you,” Indrid begins. “That would have changed your life if it hadn’t happened?” Duck thinks for a moment. Then settles.
“When I was 24, I almost left Kepler. Almost ran away. I was tryin’ to hitchhike, and got picked up by a guy named Andy.”
Indrid empty cup falls from his hands and bounces to the floor with a loud thump. Duck stares at the cup in surprise, and then back at Indrid’s astounded face.
“Once,” Indrid says, struggling to keep his voice steady. “Once, 20 years ago, I picked up a hitchhiker named Martin.”
Duck’s eyes widen. His heart thunders with nerves and adrenaline and oh my god.
“You’re kiddin’,” Duck says, smiling suddenly, his brows creasing. “You’re fuckin’ kiddin’ me.”
Indrid bursts out with laughter.
“Fuck! I haven’t seen you in 20 years! What the hell happened?”
Indrid can’t speak through the laughter. He’s clutching his stomach, leaning back into the couch cushions, his knees brought up to his chest. His toes are curled and he’s thrown his head back as great, raspy laughs echo from his chest.
He looks just as beautiful as that autumn day 20 years ago.