“Is Maine too obvious?” Chris looked up from the road map, eyebrows screwed together and staring at me intently.

“I thought we were going to Penn, Chris.” I pressed a finger to my temple, leaning my elbows on the table.

“But what if we went to Maine instead. Huh? Wouldn’t that be interesting? You’ve never been to Maine.”

“And I don’t want to. Why would it be obvious anyway?”

“Oh cos you know…Stephen King.”

“Oh my god, what?”

“Stephen King, all his books are set in Maine.”

“And?”

“So what if we went to Maine and people got suspicious because they’re already expecting creepy shit.”

“Chris nobody ever said anything about going to Maine, what the fuck are you talking about?”

“Yes, see exactly what I thought. Let’s go to Penn.” If Chris could sweat there would have been a sheen across his forehead right then. 

We had stopped at a roadside diner to fill up on gas, grab some food and recheck our maps. We were heading for a small town called Isenor, around 2 hours East of Erie, PA; our father had property there which we planned to claim. Before he...well before he was gone, our father had written a list of houses he owned around the country, a list which had grown over decades. Nothing extravagant, nothing overly overt but housing. We hadn't stayed in one of the houses for a while...it had felt invasive. 

Thinking back to the night in Salt Lake when Chris asked me where I would want to move to, we eventually bit the bullet and cracked open the list. It felt weird to choose. Before, our father would open his great thick Filofax slowly, pour over the addresses with an anecdote for each one and then with great glee select a location. By the next morning, we would have been packed and ready to go. With just Chris and I, we had opened the Filofax as a curator would handle a manuscript. 

"What about Pennsylvania?" I had said, and pointed to an address scrawled next to a crude map. 

Purchased in '48 for $1200, fucking steal! Nestor and Reid have the keys.

I knew that my father would have had a story about whoever he bought the house off and what the people in the town were like, the law practice he had left the keys with. But to us, it was an alien town with alien people.

As we sat down to eat, Chris had used the payphone called ahead to the small Law firm – now just Nestor – to arrange a time to pick it up the keys. At the same time, I had asked the only visible member of staff if I could Google our new address on her phone. Chris returned when I was looking at the house in Streetview, and grimaced as he saw that the new house sat on a quiet suburban lane, complete with neighbours on both sides. He had been fretting about it ever since, trying to think of any reason for us to stay away.

“Please don’t worry about the house, it backs onto woodland so we can sneak out sand there’s a basement so there’ll be plenty of privacy.”

“But people talk to their neighbours in these places Murphy. There’s a front yard, I’m gonna have to garden and invite people to dinner parties. We have to let people in but we need to draw boundaries and that’s impossible in places like this. Believe me, this is like the neighbourhood I grew up in. People don’t even lock their doors.”

“We have to do what dad said.” I breathed. I saw the panic dissipate slowly in my brothers’ eyes as he gave in to the house again. Our fathers’ code of blending in and staying friendly had never failed us. Living lonely and uncommunicatively in the city had almost ruined us. If the neighbours trusted us in Isenor, our cover would be rock solid.

Chris rubbed the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger.

“I know, I know.” He said. “We’ve never done it without him though, that’s all I’m worried about.”

“We can do it, you and me together is how we survive.” I smiled awkwardly. The waitress brought our food over finally; thick-cut bacon and eggs with black coffee. I felt my teeth grind against the meat and breaking the egg and letting the yolk run freely was almost hypnotic. The liquid of the yolk…it was so close to –

“Hey come on.” Chris saw the look on my face. “Hold on a few more hours okay?”

"Yeah I know, it's just it's been a few days and the last one...it wasn't enough."

"Hey same on my end, Murphy. You think I'm not starving too?"

We ate, not because we really needed to but because it took the edge off that other hunger. That perpetual craving that propelled us onwards time and time again. When you live as we do, time can stretch and blend together in strange ways. You realise it isn't so linear. Eating like normal people, having a routine, having a job; it breaks up the time. I could stand in the desert for ten years and never know that a single day has passed but also feel every second crawling by. Forever is relentless and it's worse when you have a constant voice in the back of your mind telling you to turn every person you see inside out.

Chris clenched his jaw and looked at me again. 

"We're almost there, it's going to be better. We'll get there and it'll all make sense." It was like a personal mantra to himself more than anything. We sat in silence for a moment, just staring at each other.

"How is everything for you this morning?" The quiet was cut by the waitress once again.

"Yeah, great thank you! Can we get the bill actually please?"

We settled up and hit the road again. Over the next few hours, the air grew thicker and wetter. I watched as the sky ahead of us grew steadily darker. The warm wet smell gathered in the air, pushing close to my chest. We had been travelling on backroads through forest for hours and now we converged onto a more substantial route. Chris gripped the wheel excitedly as he nodded towards a newly visible road sign.

Isenor 25 Miles

I let out a breath and exchanged a grin with my brother. After driving for 5 hours already we were both restless and eager to finish the last of the ride. 

When it started to rain we were only a couple of miles out of town, houses had already started to appear. I checked the maps and steered us towards the town centre where we would find the tiny law practice, with tiny run-down houses blending slowly into new boutique coffee shops. The slow gentrification of so many small American towns. Already, I could see people staring at the car, inquisitive in that unabashed way that people over the age of 40 often are. They didn't recognise the car and they didn't recognise us. It remained to be seen if this would be a problem.

"There." I pointed to a sign at the end of the High Street, "Nestor" in gold lettering that may have been repainted a few years before but had been left unrestored since. We pulled up, Chris grabbed an envelope from the glove compartment and we headed inside.

It certainly wasn't a grand legal practice but it was a well-kept interior, despite the outside. Dark panel wooden floors were covered by a Persian rug, with tasteful mid-century furnishings covering the main room. A woman in her mid to late thirties was sat typing furiously at a desk in the far end of the room. She peered over a stack of papers at us, confused for a second before her face sprung into life and she stood.

"Is one of you Mister August? We spoke on the phone earlier?" Her voice was high and clear.

"Yes! That would be me, Christopher is fine." Chris strode over to the desk with his hand outstretched. "And you must be Penny Nestor?"

"Yes, that would be correct!" Penny took Chris' hand. "Gosh your hands are freezing, did you boys get caught in that shower?"

"Oh only briefly, this is my brother Murphy by the way."

"Good to meet you, ma'am", I said quietly, keeping my hands firmly in my pockets.

"Well, this should only take a minute and then you guys can get on your way to your new home!" Penny bustled around the desk to a door on the far side of the room which she opened to reveal a safe sitting precariously on a shelf. "You boys come from far?"

"Utah," Chris beamed. Penny fiddled with the safes combination lock.

"What a road trip! Listen, I'm so sorry, I had really hoped that more of us would be here to greet you. It's a family practice you see and my grandfather would have been so excited to see who was collecting the key for the Myreton house. He was a junior clerk here in '56 when it was delivered to our care."

"Oh really?" I said, gritting my teeth and staring at Chris who tapped a finger to his lips. 

"Oh yes! Said the guy who dropped it off was British, guessing that must've been your grandfather then? He took a fall last week so we're a little anxious about him leaving the house, otherwise, he'd be right down here shaking both your hands!" Penny finally cracked the lock and reached inside to grab a box. She carted it back over to us, delicately holding it between her manicured fingers. 

"Now I'll need to take a form of ID before I hand this over and have you sign the release." Chris reached into the envelope he was still holding and pulled out his passport. It was fake, obviously, but well-crafted enough that Penny hardly gave it a second glance. She then handed a few sheets of paper over to Chris which he signed with a flourish.

"Now as per the request in the original letter, the property has not been touched since 1956 other than a restoration request of the front panelling that was put through in 1991. The place is airtight but it's not the most charming place right now you understand, so be prepared for a fixer-upper."

"Oh, we love a challenge," I said. Penny looked at me inquisitively, as if she was just noticing me for the first time. 

"Are you gonna be attending the high school this year honey? My son is in his Junior year if you wanted me to introduce you. Real superstar, plays lacrosse."

"Um - " I cringed slightly before Chris interrupted.

"I think we better be heading now, actually, but thank you so much for your help and best wishes to your grandfather, Penny." He flashed another smile and she bristled.

Chris was handsome in a way that few people are. He looked like he’d been plucked from a Hollywood movie in the late 50s; thick eyebrows, a strong jawline, dimples that appeared when he flashed his straight bright smile. His dark hair had a natural curl that he constantly pushed back. Chris had shown me photos of him from senior prom where he’d slicked the whole thing back, leaving a single curl like superman. The whole effect was almost hypnotic, and I suppose that was the point. He wasn’t just beautiful, he was appealing. Like something to invite into your life.

“You take care ma’am.” Chris winked at Penny, leaving her to flush bright red as we exited her office.

“Did you really have to do that?” I asked.

“If you start with the PTA moms the rest will follow.” Chris gave me a wry smile. His eyes, the colour of pooling mercury, glimmered. His lashes dark

Chris looked like the boy every mother wished to come home with her daughter. It was almost parody. The only unsettling thing was the eyes, a vibrant steel grey like mercury pooling. They came from our father. Sometimes if you caught Chris in the right light, he could look like an animal, red eyes reflecting back at you.

The rain had picked up a little and we headed back to the car, readying ourselves finally for our new house. I thought of Penny's blushing cheeks for a moment.

"Okay, now I could really use something to eat." I said. Chris sighed.

"I agree. Let's go."