“Come in dear, I’m so glad you finally stopped by. Do take off your shoes please and make yourself at home. I’ve a batch of scones in the oven, I’ll just be a sec.”

There’s a whistling sound and Mama Etta bustles back toward what must be a kettle on the stove. It was surprising to find that Mama Etta lives quite close, she’s practically in walking distance.

Cadence said Evan usually rode with us to school and that it wasn’t uncommon to walk to the other’s house to hang out. He said one time we’d somehow managed to not see Evan walking by us on the other side of the street and arrived at Mama Etta’s house just to find that Evan had gone to our house.

The entire house smells like cinnamon and vanilla, and the carpet is a plushy red. I shove my sandals in with the stack of boots and sneakers by the front door that I think are probably Evan’s and enter into the living room. It’s exactly like what I’d imagine Mama Etta’s house to be like.

There’s a large fluffy looking couch and loveseat in dark shades of lilac and a sandy brown recliner with colorful pillows everywhere. There are throws draped over the back of every seat. There’s a fireplace with pictures and knickknacks strewn over the mantle.

One picture in particular catches my eye. It’s of a little boy, about 8 or 9, holding a puppy, that’s obviously a young Evan, and what must be his parents. Little Evan still has the same brown head of curls and I’m happy to finally see the color of his eyes. Jade.

His eyes are a pale jade. All three of them are smiling happily, standing in their bathing suits, and in the background are crashing waves. It looks like Evan got his good looks from both his parents, they’re beautiful, and curls definitely run in the family. If I had any doubt about who Curls was supposed to be, then it’s gone now.

The woman is short, her hair a wild main of fiery curls, with a spattering of freckles and a hint of sunburn on her tanned skin. The man has the same smirk and skin as black as Mama Etta’s, his hair is also a wild mass of black curls, longer than the woman’s.

I’m still looking at the picture when a shaggy brown dog comes running into the room, behind the dog is Mama Etta carrying a tray laden with treats and a green kettle.

“I brought snacks.” She says as she gently sits the tray down on the coffee table and takes a spot on the couch. The dog comes right to me, tail wagging like crazy and nudges my hand excitedly.

I pet the dog tentatively and he goes crazy, licking and jumping all over me.

“Sit.” Mama Etta says, and he does, but whimpers at her. Over the dog’s shoulder I see a flash of a grinning Evan, his arms crossed before he turns to go deeper in the house. “Sit dearie, don’t mind Shakespeare. He’s just really happy to see you. You haven’t been around in quite a while. He’s missed you.”

“Shakespeare?” I ask, imagining little Evan deciding such a name escapes me. I decide to see if the recliner is as cozy as it looks and sit down, the dogs jumps in my lap and makes himself comfortable.

“My son was an English professor.” Mama Etta says as she starts pouring the tea, a small smile spreading across her face. She looks towards the pictures I’d been admiring. “Evan’s just lucky I talked Matthias out of naming him Hamlet. Although his middle name did end up being Lysander, couldn’t talk him out of that.” I can’t resist the chuckle.

“Evan’s middle name is Lysander?” Mama Etta nods solemnly but then starts laughing as well. It kind of fits, and it strikes me as hilarious that he auditioned for the role of Lysander when it was a part of his name. “It looks like Shakespeare remembers you, I’m sure he’s missed you.”

Mama Etta hands me a plate filled with treats. There’s scones, a couple of cookies, what looks like a macaroon, a triangle of a cucumber sandwich, and some sort of custard looking thing along with a fruity red tea.

“So, I’ve met him before?” I know I have since I’ve read the journal entries mentioning him, but I want to know what she says.

“Oh yes dearie, you were over all the time. You and Evan have practically been inseparable since you two met. You might as well refer to yourself as Shakespeare’s second human.” She says with a wink. “Whenever you feel like it, it would be nice to bring Godzilla for a visit as well. The two haven’t seen each other in a while.”

It doesn’t surprise me that the two dogs were close since we took them on hikes together, but I am a little intrigued that such a small dog would be friends with the giant that is Godzilla. Mama Etta must sense my thoughts because she pulls a picture off the mantle that I hadn’t noticed.

It’s of a younger version of me and Evan, both holding our dogs. Godzilla is clearly still a puppy but he’s still almost half my height in the picture. He and Shakespeare are licking one another’s snouts. “These two adore each other just as much as they adore the two of you.”

Shakespeare nudges my hand to get me to pet him again and I’m a little impressed that he hasn’t tried to get any of the food off my precariously perched plate. I scratch at his ear as I nibble on one of the scones.

“This is delicious.”

“Cranberry orange, your favorite… at least it was.” Mama Etta says with a sad smile.

“I think it still is.” I tell her as I scarf down the rest of the scone. The rest of the sweets are just as delicious and the tea pairs well with it all.

“Go ahead and ask your questions, dearie.” Mama Etta says after we’ve set in silence for a few minutes.

“Umm… I-I-”

“I know that’s probably why you visited. I’m glad for the company, whatever the motivation may be, and I can’t say that I blame you. It must be awful frightening for you, sweetie.” She takes a sip of her tea as if she hasn’t just practically read my mind.

“Ask whatever you need, baby.”

“Umm… well… that night, the night of the accident that is… well… do… do you know anything, or well did Evan tell you what we were doing? Where we were going?” Mama Etta purses her lips and takes another sip of tea.

“I’m afraid not dear. I’ve always been rather lenient with Evan, never ask too many questions. And he’s always been rather honest and hardworking. If I’d asked, he would’ve told me, but he just mentioned that he was going out with you and Darryl and his girlfriend, God rest their souls, and I didn’t ask for any other details.”

“What time was that?” I ask.

“Perhaps around six, I believe.” Which means he left about two hours before the time the accident occurred. That still leaves the question of what we were doing near that construction site, and also what we were doing before the time of the accident.

“So, Evan didn’t say anything else about what we might’ve been up to?” I ask. She sits forward.

“No dear, but I’m curious as to why you want to know so bad. It was just a tragic accident after all.”

“Yeah, I know, but I just want to… want to understand why we were there. What were we doing near a construction site so late at night?” Mama Etta shrugs and sips her tea again.

“Now that I couldn’t help you with dear. You and Evan were the curious sort though, so perhaps it was another one of your mysteries or buried treasure adventures. Or even a ghost hunt.” I already knew there had to be some sort of mystery, since Cadence said we were investigating something to do with Darryl, and really, I’d been humoring the idea before he’d mentioned it, but to hear someone else point it out makes me realize that I should trust my intuition more.

Cadence did say I was obsessed with watching murder mysteries, and the fact that I hid my journal and the key to it in separate places is more than enough evidence that I had an interest in them.

“Mysteries?”

“Oh yes, you and Evan were always chasing weird stories, whether they were real or fake, or even supernatural related.”

Mama Etta stares down at a bracelet on her wrist, as if lost in the memories.

“You actually had a good business one summer finding lost items together,” She holds her wrist up, letting the little silver charms swing. “This was your first find. You managed to make about a two hundred a piece just helping people out. And there was the time when the two of you claimed a reward for a missing cat after hunting it down. You spent nearly a week running around with cat treats in your pockets searching for it. The strays took to following the both of you home. You both managed to rehome a few of them.”

Mama Etta pauses, her eyes lighting up with a smile.

“The buried treasure is probably still the best story though.”

“We found buried treasure?” She starts laughing.

“Oh goodness no, at least not real treasure at least. That brother of yours wanted to surprise you for your birthday, so he created a whole scavenger hunt for you with Evan’s help. The real kicker was how the two of you actually stumbled upon a time capsule that wasn’t supposed to be dug up for another ten years. You had to rebury it of course. It was quite an impressive feat for a couple of twelve-year-old’s.”

“Twelve? Evan and I have known each other that long?” Cadence mentioned that we’d known him and Darryl for a few years, but not how many.

“Longer dear. You two met when you were both nine, maybe ten. I believe it was the fourth or fifth grade.”

No wonder I feel such a connection with him… I’ve been friends with him for at least six years. “You didn’t like each other at first though.”

“We didn’t?” Mama Etta chuckles.

“I do believe you punched him in the face the first day you met him.”

“What? Why?”

“For making fun of your shoes or something silly like that. I just remember that he came home with a black eye and the school suspended you for a day, but Evan retaliated and that started some sort of prank war between the two of you.”

“Seriously?”

I’m trying to imagine younger me and younger Evan having a prank war in the middle of school and failing.

Mama Etta takes a long sip of her tea.

“Oh yes dear, it was quite something. See there was the time he filled your locker with confetti and you retaliated by covering his locker in sequins and glitter. Another time he glued you to a desk and then you locked him in a janitor’s closet for a day. He filled your backpack with mustard while you were in gym one time, and you somehow managed to hide all of his textbooks around the school, leaving clues for him to have to hunt them down. He locked you in your locker and you zip tied his locker shut, he dropped a bucket of jello on you and you taped his backpack to the ceiling. There was more. You were both quite creative, you know.”

“How were we not expelled?”

“You nearly were after you coated his desk in honey and released ants in the room.”

“But we weren’t?” Mama Etta lets out a guffaw.

“Your Momma talked you both out of it, I’m not sure how she did it, but it was decided that both of you would serve in school suspensions for a month, and by the end of the month the two of you were best friends.”

I wonder why no one’s mentioned any of this to me before.

“Would you like to see some more pictures?” She asks, already standing up and shuffling to a cabinet nearby. I move to sit next to her on the couch, which is just as fluffy as the chair and Shakespeare huffs at me before waddling off towards the kitchen. He comes back a few minutes later with a blue squeaky bone and settles at my feet.

We spend the rest of the evening with Mama Etta telling me stories about Evan, and about my friendship with him. She shows me pictures of little Evan and his parents.

I decide not to ask about what must’ve happened to them, not really sure how to broach the subject. And she also shows me an album worth of pictures of the two of us. Some have Darryl and Cadence in them, there’s even one with everyone in the family at the beach.

There’s a picture of a younger me and a younger Evan, our faces and clothes covered in dirt holding the time capsule Mama Etta mentioned. More pictures of us eating pizza and blurry pics of us in trees and climbing rocks. A pic of us at the beach, Shakespeare sitting between us, a full-grown Godzilla draped over us, and a giant sandcastle in the background. There’s another one of a little Evan and I with Cadence behind us covered in snow, a half-made snowman behind us. We’re all holding snowballs.

By the time I leave I haven’t learned anything new about the accident, but I’ve learned so much more about my friendship with Evan. And it seemed like Evan was content, he sat in the chair the whole time with a wide grin on his face.

I was sort of surprised that Shakespeare didn’t acknowledge him. I thought it was a thing that animals could see ghosts, but obviously not in his case and now that I think about it, Godzilla’s never really noticed him either. Strange.