Gone (Ianthony)

Two Days Before

Anthony:   

I was, without a doubt, getting discouraged.

I'd been wandering aimlessly around the same town for four days straight, and I'd seen no trace of Ian. No one had seen any trace of Ian. 

I just lost more and more hope that he was in that town every minute. I did the same routine every damn day: wake up from restless sleep, wander around town, ask if anyone had seen him, eventually eat something, and return back to the hotel, losing more and more hope every time I laid down to attempt to sleep for the night.

But I didn't know what else to do. This town was my only lead. 

But I'd see the same people doing the same things every day. I'd seen Madison two other times, once when I went into the shop and once while walking along the beach. But still, no Ian.

But today was different.

It was an overcast day, the first non-sunny day since I'd been there. And it was like the townspeople were allergic to clouds; the town was nearly empty. I wandered around a bit, exploring a few suburbs and blocks leading off from the main corner, and eventually straying back to the sandwich shop. I secretely hoped Madison was there. Despite finding it impossible to grow close to anyone while I still had no idea where my best friend in the whole world was, I was really starting to like her.

And sure enough, when I entered the shop, she was behind the counter alone, reading a book I couldn't make out.

She looked up at me after the door swung shut.

"God, what do you want from me now?" she joked, closing the book and standing up.

"Actually, I just came for a sandwich," I replied, already pulling my wallet out of my jeans.

"Let me guess, turkey and cheese? Nothing else?"

"And you're telling me to leave you alone?" I smirked.

As I handed over a five, something to the right of the menu board caught my eye.

I walked over to it to get a closer look. It was a photograph tacked directly in the center of a corkboard, surrounded by flyers for various festivals and lost dog signs.

"What's this?" I asked, running my finger over it. It was a simple photograph of a house. Just a completely average-looking house. White, with a shingled brown roof and Lake Michigan in the background.

"The picture? I'm not sure. Some dude came in and asked if he could put it up there a few days ago. Didn't say what it was for."

No. It couldn't be.   

Still, my heart picked up the pace.

"Some dude?" My voice shook slightly.

"Yeah. I think he'd been in here once or twice before. He's probably the only person in this town I don't know the name of. Must be new here."

I swallowed hard. My eyes couldn't leave the picture.

"What'd... what'd he look like?"

I saw her shrug as she made my sandwich out of the corner of my eye. "About your age, probably. Kinda short, beard, brown bowl cut, and his eyes were-"

"Bright blue," I finished for her, my world seeming to stop.

She froze, preparing to say something. I stopped her.

"When was he in here? When did he put this picture up?"

"I, uh..." She shook her head, walking over and standing next to me. "Two days ago? I remember it was right after you came in last. Like, minutes after. He didn't even order anything, he just put the picture up and left. He seemed kinda... strange. Like he didn't really fit in here."

I shook my head. "Fuck."

She only raised her eyebrows. "Am I missing something-"

"Where's this house?"

She examined the picture, tilting her head slightly at it. "I have no idea, honestly. Has to be around here somewhere, but all the houses kinda look exactly the same."

I ran a hand through my hair, the room spinning in complete circles around me. Ian was here. Ian was here. In this town. Possibly right down the street. 

"Can I take this?" I had already ripped it off the board before she could answer.

I didn't even bother to grab my sandwich. I had to find that house.