I KNEW I had been silent too long when Rykland awkwardly rubbed the back of his neck. I opened my mouth to say something, anything. A thank you didn’t seem like enough. And anything real seemed like too much. I deliberated for a long moment when Rykland suddenly blurted out,

“Wow, would you look at that sunset.”

Quickly my awkwardness melted away and I smiled sideways at him. I’d never felt so comfortable around him. I wondered if what had passed between us moments ago was responsible for that change.

“Yeah it’s gorgeous. I didn’t take you for a sunset lover kinda guy.”

He smiled ruefully.

“Perhaps you didn’t take me for a lot of things?”

I looked at my feet. He was right. Why had I’d judged him so harshly? Even from that first day. I felt bad. No, horrible. I could see he’d always tried to be a friend to me. _I was the problem. _Rykland nudged my shoulder. I glanced at him expecting disdain but was met with a gentle smile. I looked away embarrassed, heavy with guilt. I didn’t deserve Rykland’s kindness.

He stopped walking and turned me toward him. My breath was caught by his expression: a smile so warm, I felt it pry through my walls into my caged heart. He didn’t let me go until I smiled back. He the strangest ability to make me feel so much better. We continued walking.

“You know, my mom loves sunsets.”

I said, kicking at the sidewalk of the alley we were passing through. Rykland smiled and walked a bit closer as the alley narrowed. Cardboard boxes of every size seemed to be stacked everywhere and getting higher and higher. Someone must be moving. Lots of someones.

“Really? Tell me more about her.”

He said side-stepping a box.

Smiling sadly I tugged my coat tighter.

“She loves food. She’s was well loved critic which is uncommon in that profession. She writes-or used to write-mostly constructive criticism. She’s also an artist in the kitchen. The best bread you’d ever have.”

Rykland listened thoughtfully and held his stomach as it rumbled.

We laughed.

“You’re making me hungry. That sounds incredible.”

I chuckled, thinking of all the types of bread my mom used to make from before.

“She is. Maybe I’ll bring some for you sometime. I have the recipes, it won’t be as good as when she bakes it, but I can try.”

Rykland looked at me sincerely. His tone gentle and soft when he responded,

“I’d love that.”

I sighed feeling knots loosen in my chest. Somehow talking about her made me feel less alone in all this. I wondered if someone like him had been there for him when he’d gone through losing his mother. My heart panged with a flood of sudden empathy for him.

“Do you remember much about your mother?”

He frowned slightly his eyes going far away for a moment.

“Not much. My pyschie told me it’s because my subconscious is trying to forget the traumatic event, taking lots of my childhood with it.”

I felt so deeply sad for him I involuntarily stopped him with a hand on his shoulder. He met my eyes and that pain from before resided there. I suddenly saw Rykland as a scared, terrified ten year old boy, lost because he didn’t have his mother to come find him and tell him it was going to be okay. I wanted to hug him, but I didn’t know how he’d take that so I settled for an internal battle with my impulses instead.

“I’m sorry, Ryk.” I whispered.

“It’s okay. It’s okay.” He whispered back smiling sadly once more.

He inhaled sharply and let it out slowly continuing forward. Then he grinned looking at me. I wasn’t sure why until I realized; I’d called him Ryk. My face warmed and I looked away to hide the fact,

“I do have one memory of her though.” He said rubbing his arm, leaving the moment before unsaid which I was surprised by and grateful for.

“She used to read me the same bedtime story every night.”

I pursed my lips.

He laughed at my expression shaking his head.

“What?”

“That’s so cute. What was the book?”

Rykland chuckled.

“It was called Goodnight Moon.”

I searched my memory but came up empty. I shook my head.

“I don’t think I’ve ever read that.”

He smirked, turning to look at me, a familiar glint of mischief in his gaze.

“Maybe I’ll read it to you sometime.”

My heart thudded though I wasn’t sure why, or I didn’t want to be sure why.

“I’d love that.” I said gently.

I thought I saw his face redden slightly but it could have been the cold.

We fell into silence yet again. Lost in thought, I almost tripped over a cardboard box.

I looked around in confusion. _Okay something strange was definitely going on. _Cardboard boxes reached well above our heads now, covering up the buildings around us. The alley in front of us was now blocked. We stopped at the same time, taking in the realization of it together.

“What is this…?” I asked in awe staring at the mountain of boxes that seemed to have appeared out of nowhere.

Rykland shook his head in disbelief.

“No idea.” He said turning back the way we came. I felt him freeze beside me. My heart quickened.

“Rue? You should see this.”

I slowly turned around.

The way we’d come was now completely piled up with boxes. We were, quite literally, boxed in. I turned in a circle, confusion leading to panic. My breathing became labored. A hand rested on my arm. My eyes moved up to Rykland’s and it was like they had the power to calm a stormy sea because I instantly felt safer.

He smiled reassuringly.

“Is this weird? Yes. But, they are just boxes. We can dig ourselves out.”

I nodded taking a deep breath. After what looked like a moment of hesitation, Rykland trailed his hand down to mine and intertwined our fingers. It left me having an even harder time breathing, but I didn’t pull away. Not this time.

“Let’s try to go back the way we came.” I said and he nodded in agreement. We walked to where we had just entered a moment ago, now a wall of boxes. I started to look for what the best strategy would be to start moving them out of the way, Rykland doing the same.

“Hey, Rue?” I heard Rykland call over.

“Yeah?”

“I think…I think this one’s for you.”

I turned to find him holding a box staring intently at the top. “What?”

Rykland shrugged and walked over to me.

“See for yourself.”

I took the box from him and to my surprise, there on the top, scribbled in marker, my name.

_Rubine Meyers_

_06/18/22_

I sucked in a breath.

“Rue? What is it?”

I stared at the box suddenly terrified of it. It wasn’t all that big, no bigger than my hand. I felt like setting the boxes around us on fire now, fearing what could be inside. At the same time curiosity pleaded with me to open it. Part of me had already starting making guesses. None of them happy.

Rykland moved closer to once again look at the box. I was frozen.

“Rue? What happened in twenty two?”

I swallowed.

“This is the day my mother was admitted into the hospital long term.”

Rykland’s eyebrows raised.

“Oh.”

I nodded.

He bit his lip. He did that a lot, I thought. I used to think it was arrogance but now I just wondered if it was a tick he had when he was thinking.

“Should we open it?”

I shook my head no, and then yes, but didn’t move.

“Do you want help?”

Slowly I nodded as if making sudden movements would somehow shatter my walls I’d so meticulously built over the last two years.

Rykland gently removed the box from my hands,

reverently sliced the tape open with his car keys, and handed it back like it was a active bomb that could explode any second. I felt like crying. A tug at my hand and Rykland’s eyes grounded me. I hadn’t even realized he’d taken my hand again.

“Your turn,” he whispered.

He squeezed my hand and let go. Time felt like molasses as I peeled the lips of the box open.

A sob escaped my throat. _This couldn’t be real._ Inside rested a velvet pouch like the ones used to hold expensive jewelry.

I pulled out the contents and shoved a hand against my mouth to keep from sobbing.

“Rue? You’re scaring me. A-a watch?”

He stared at the battered watch in my hand. Time worn and loved, the band was sliver and tarnished and a small scratch marred it’s face.

I laughed suddenly wiping tears from my eyes.

“I can’t believe it.”

Now Rykland looked beyond confused. I tried to pull myself together.

When I could speak again I cleared my throat.

“This was my mothers watch.”

He tilted his head.

“Your mothers watch?”

I nodded. “She hasn’t been allowed to wear jewelry since being admitted in to the hospital in case of emergency surgery, or MRIs.”

I frowned tearing up again.

“I was so angry at everything. At the world. At my mom for getting sick. I irrationally threw it out. I’ve regretted it since that day.”

I put it on and started at it.

“It’s so beautiful.” Rykland said, but when I met his eyes they weren’t looking at the watch.

I looked away not sure what to do with the nervous twisting in my stomach. Suddenly all the boxes around me held new light. I wondered.

I walked over to another box and felt Rykland follow. I looked at a medium sized one, a little bigger than a shoe box. We stared at it together.

_Rykland Whitlock_

_04/09/11_

“Hey, Ryk, I think this one’s for you.”

I said softly, his nickname now fitting naturally in my mouth. He took the box in his hands and shook it a little as if trying to prepare for what to expect.

“Ryk? What happened in eleven?”

He ran a thumb over the date.

“I have no clue. I would have been six.”

I carefully took his hand and squeezed it before placing my car keys in his hand this time.

Taking a deep breath he broke the tape seal.

Inside rested what appeared to be a camera bag.

Rykland’s eyes lit up as he lifted it from the box.

He grinned.

“Wow.”

His smile was contagious and I grinned too.

“What is it?”

He pulled the camera out of the bag.

“It’s my mothers Polaroid camera.”

It was covered in vintage travel ticket stub stickers.

“She used to take so many Polaroids and stick them all over the house.”

He rested his hand over the shutter button.

“That’s super cool, Ryk.”

Rykland nodded.

“You know, she used to believe we only ever got one shot in life. So she spent her time documenting everything she could. Viewing the world as much as possible. Taking as many shots as she could.”

“She seems like she was amazing.”

He smiled tenderly.

“She was.”

Rykland put the camera away, draping the camera bag over his shoulder.

We continued through the boxes, opening as we went, losing track of the passage of time. My moms heels I used to try on. Rykland’s first set of colored pencils his mom bought him and so many more memories. Rykland even remembered some from his childhood he’d forgotten, and I remembered some I’d never noted.

The boxes slowly disappeared along with the objects as we finally walked from the alley. More free than we’d both been in a long time.

A watch, a camera, and a new start.

Hand in hand,

On their way to make a whole lot of memories.