Chapter 6

The path to the bomb shelter had become more unkempt in the past few years. The fact that there was still a way back was more a testament to local high schoolers' conviction to engage in moderate debauchery than anything. Gnats and bitemes patrolled the weeds, forcing Steve and Gar to flail wildly as they forced their way through the overgrowth. It thinned and then petered out to the bomb shelter clearing.

The cinder blocks were a weather-beaten gray. Empty PBR and Old Style cans, some crushed, littered the landscape. The outside of the shelter was covered with graffiti. Spray-painted declarations of love had faded just as, likely enough, the relationships themselves had. Someone had cleverly sprayed "Nina In Da Hose," then crossed out "Hose" with one line and written "House" directly below it.

The interior - well, what had been the interior when this was presumably a bomb shelter - was decorated in a similar manner. Cartoon stick figures in assorted positions. Empty bottles of hard liquor, some broken, covered the ground. A few condoms had been left behind - Steve and Gar steered extra clear of those.

"Let's see this tree, Destiny."

Steve wasted no time, walking to a tall oak. About seven or eight feet off the ground, sure enough, a scorch mark three inches wide marred the bark of the tree. The boys stood and stared until Steve broke the silence.

"I understand you have no reason to believe me. I could have come here last night and burned this mark into the tree. I could have made up the whole thing as an elaborate practical joke. But I didn't. That's not me, man."

"I know. But isn't it possible...I don't know, that you imagined it? Or that the past few years have added something to your story?"

Steve sighed, kicking cigarette butts into the woods. "Can you remember a life-changing moment? Anything."

"I wouldn't say I've been on the road to Damascus, but I do remember some significant things from my life."

"Think about them. You remember every detail, right? Even if you're not always honest in the telling. That's how this is. I remember everything. The way the wind smelled. The way the light filtered through the trees. I'll tell you what - when we were here a few years back, that Nina In Da Hose graffiti wasn't here yet. The newest spray paint on the outside of the shelter was 'Amber and Kris 4-ever.' After Jennipher punched-"

"Okay, listen. I believe that you came back here. I believe that Semmes punched out McNeil. I can wrap my head around that. I may even believe there was a door here, but the rest of it - the visions, your destiny? I'm sorry, brother. Come on. Let's go."

As Gar walked back to the path, Steve closed his eyes. Felt the light on his eyelids. Smelled the weathered cinder blocks. And he heard the wind through the trees, calling softly, "Soon...Soon...Soon."