Suspended in Time

Chapter 12 - The Ultimate Reason for His Greatest Adventure

I had to extend my stay in Everette. Luckily, my camera, phone, laptop and all my other items, including my luggage when I first came to Everette, was all in my hotel room. It was all there. How the tech got there when it was at the Eddings, I had no idea, but I wouldn't question it at all. I was home.

And it left me in a depressive state. My life with the Eddings was no more. It was gone, just a memory. Not a dream, a memory. I went back to their house and found another family living there, and they told me that the Eddings moved out in the 70s after two of their children passed away.

Yes, this was part of the reason why I was in such a funk. I learned that David and Violet both passed away from different forms of cancer in the 70s, a few years apart from one another. David left Annie with their three teen children, and Violet left behind her husband Roger and their one son who was only ten.

"It's no wonder there was nothing of them the first time I visited Darina's house," I said through my helmet as I was heading down Lilac Drive. "They passed away a long time ago."

Undoubtedly, there was no falling out, just the early passing of loved ones. I felt their passing, and I was still feeling it. I even went to the local cemetery and found them, as well as the Franks. I had to go and visit the house afterwards. And, yes, I saw Darina's gave, along with Edmund's. According to the grave marker, Darina passed in 2015. Nine years ago.

I stopped my bike and took my helmet off. The thicket of trees was still there, only there was a little forest now around the place, all grown over. I could barely tell where that arch was. I left my bike, hiked through the grass and had to push by branches of tress that weren't there before. I came close to the house—I could see some of it through the trees. I came to a sign.

Private Property of the City of Everette. No trespassing.

There was a gate that was overrun with the foliage, and there was a gap where other people most likely got through. Well, no trespassing signs never bothered me. I went on into the property and had to get through more trees and bushes.

And there it was. "You're still here, my friend," I said to the house that was even more dilapidated than in the 50s. Sixty-six years passed since the last time I saw this place. Trees were growing into the house. I came up closer to it and saw David's plaque.

"This is still here, too."

Emotion caught my throat as I looked up at the house. The Model T was gone. David and I never got to painting it together, but he probably finished it himself. Well, we thought I would go home when certain things were accomplished, and I was very confident that the Model T was one of them. I wondered where it sat now.

It was time to go in. I did so, using a little strength to get the door open. I walked into the room, and my heart dropped.

The place was ransacked. Furniture was askew, cabinets and drawers were opened, the teddy was on the floor... I went and picked it up and put it where it was before. I moved the furniture to where it was before, and I closed cabinets and drawers, not caring about the amount of dust and dirt I was disturbing. This all needed to be made right. I went on into the bedroom and straightened things up in there to how they were before.

The thought that the Franks were here watching me do this comforted me. I left the house and made it back to my bike.

"Wow, I can't believe it..." I muttered in anger. "How could people do that?"

How could people do that anywhere? I had seen it so many times.

"I'm sorry that happened, Ben and Geraldene. I did my best to right it."