My Treehouse Is Never Empty

    My treehouse is never empty. I constantly visit them, the house and the owner. Ever since I moved here I was always in good company. Liam, he was 18, lived there for as long as I can recall. Unchanging but forever warm and welcoming. At times I wondered whatever kept him here in these small wooden walls. He never tells. Which is okay, it isn’t particularly my business. It’s been two years since I moved here, and met him. Two years today, and I turn 18 on top of all that. 

I’ll be honest, I’ve always had a bit of a thing for him, for Liam. His soft hazel eyes, olive skin, and perfect dirty blonde hair. He has the cutest face, too. I always want to poke his nose, which, when i do, he often just scrunches up in retaliation. It’s the sweetest thing, really. There was one day, on his birthday, when I came to visit and he was crying. The tears illuminated his freckled cheeks, and I tried to wipe them away, but my hand was unmoving, he was untouched. He did smile though, he told me that even though these treehouse walls were small, I widened them to the horizons with my stories.  

Today wasn’t a particularly special day aside from my birthday. I made some tea, rose mint tea, as well as some honey chamomile for Liam. After the cups of steaming water steeped the drinks, I took them up to the not so stable basket with the makeshift pulley system installed over the window. I surrounded the cups with a blanket and covered them with small dishes to act as lids. I called out to him, letting him know I was heading up. And with that I climbed the ladder that led to the deck of the treehouse, a small little terrace, but that was presumably to make more room in the house itself by allowing the door to be on a wall. 

I knocked three times before entering. 

“Hey sleepyhead” I said to him, smiling. I took off my light jacket and tossed it onto one of the soft bean bag chairs in the corner before walking over to the window. 

He grumbled and said, “oh, hey.. Sorry, I guess I fell asleep” 

I smiled. “I still forget sometimes, but it makes sense when you actually think about it. Naps and energy consumption and restoration. It’s weird but I guess you can’t spell restoration without rest haha” I say, pulling the basket up carefully and as slow as I can, so as to not spill the tea all over the place. 

Once I finally get the tea up, I set the basket on the windowsill, and place both cups on a tiny table in the off-center of the room between the two bean bag chairs residing in the corner. 

“Smells good.” He said, leaning over to look at the cups. 

“Rose mint and honey chamomile, just the way we like it.” I reply, blowing air onto the surface of the steaming tea. I carefully take a small sip, burning the roof of my mouth and quickly setting the cup back onto the table. 

“Ahhh shit, that hurt…” I say, covering my mouth with my hand. He chuckles and looks over with concerned yet playful eyes.

“Are you okay, numbnuts?” he said, smiling with those same eyes that I cant help but adore. 

“My nuts are not numb thank you very much, my mouth however, that is a whole other story…”

“Dean, you are quite the character. Oh. by the way… happy birthday!” He raised his arms half ass excited and smiled brightly before his tone shifted altogether.

“Thanks… but whats up?” I said, turning to face him more. 

“You know how badly I wish I could actually do something for you… for your birthday but my options are very limited and things don’t seem to be getting much easier as the days go by…” He said softly, clear disapointment in his voice. 

“Oh, hon… I know that, you don’t have to feel obligated or anything… being with you, and around you makes me so happy as is, you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me.” I started tearing up. I didn’t really expect to be saying this, getting so emotional and lovey dovey on him. Maybe it’s the rose tea… 

“Heh.. thanks, dean… It means a lot to me, really it does.. I really love.. Being around you.” He smiled at me, and for a moment there was calmness in the air even with my heart pounding in my chest. 

The wind rushed through the wooden panels of the old tree house and the sun was fading behind the clouds. The sunny afternoon began to fade into a dark cloudy one. But I loved the rain, and seeing it trickle outside the window from up here, there was a certain peacefulness to it that can’t be replaced. And as drops of rain begin to fill the silence, my chest begins to feel okay again, and I can breathe. 

“Dean…” I jump, he sounded so serious- 

“Y-yes?” I say, unreasonably anxious, but at the same time, he never sounds like that. He’s a real ray of sunshine to be honest, never very serious. 

    “I want to tell you how I got here.” he said, his voice calm but his knees trembling. 

    My expression becomes serious as I turn to face him again, I try to stay as calm as I can but I can’t help but feel my heart pounding in my chest. Liam wasn’t just a neighbor, and this was the moment I’ve been waiting to for for 2 years, the moment I can understand… why he ended up in the backyard of a house in the more rural end of the suburbs. How long has it been…? So many questions flood my mind, but all I can do right now is listen. 

He sighed, so softly, so subtly, i easily could have missed it.

“When I was 18, I was living life as best as I could. I had a partner, I had a sport, baseball… and a couple of friends- everything was peachy keen, ya know?” I built this treehouse with my friend connor when I was maybe 15? And We practically lived in it ever since. The people that lived here before you remodeled it some so at least I know it’s not going to fall apart being as old as it could have been… anyways.. On June 23rd 1954 I got into a fight with my partner.. things escelated and he was beginning to leave, I tried to stop him- but he got away. He made it down just fine, but… when I began to chase after him again, one of the steps up top… they broke and i fell on my neck. I didn’t make it. That’s why I’m here of all places, an unlucky accident.” 

    There was silence… cold cold silence, my body was shaking and so was he. I can see him fighting off the tears. His tea was getting cold. He himself was cold. And I wish I could give him some of my warmth right now. He looked down at the floor for a second before looking up again. More silence. He stared out the window before starting again;

“Being dead is’nt exactly the most fun thing to discuss… the weird thing is- I never feel like I’m gone around you… But I know this was a burning question, and you really should know. I trust you to know…I need you to for what I wanna say next” 

I felt my stomach drop, I wasn’t at all prepared for what was about to be said, even if I didn’t even know what it was, I know I am not ready… My eyes widened, staring at him…while he’s staring out the window.

“My family abandonded the house. They left it exactly the same, all that was in here and only moved the indoor belongings. My now ex had been visiting the house and new owners since then. They told him I was their best friend… it was really taboo for us to be together afterall… He kept the treehouse clean. And talked to me even though he could never see or hear me… he would still talk, outloud, with no reply. I think he knew I was there, and I did manage to knock a couple times to tell him I was… he was a real keeper... Years later, maybe 1958? I found out by overhearing the new owners that he had passed in a car accident not far from here… but i never saw him again.” 

He paused, and looked over at me, tears streaming down his face and eyes burning red. He smiled painfully, so subtly, I could tell he was hurting… but his eyes had hope.

“Until he came back two years ago in a new body, and a new life.” 

“Wh-what do you…” I started, my min overwhelmed with thoughts and feelings and so many confusing questions…

“Dean… it’s you… I know it is.” He said. His smile brightened a little bit. My heart was beating faster than I thought possible and my head began to hurt… 

“I’m… I’m your partner..?” I asked, shakily. 

“Yeah… you are… do you remember?” he asked me, anxiety and anticipation flooded his tone. 

“No… not yet anyways… I want to, though. I’m gonna  remember.”   

And with that, he smiled again. I can only kinda sorta feel him, it’s like touching a cold energy source, which, I guess it technically is. He leans in and kisses my forehead. 

“I knew you liked me this whole time, by the way, but I’m glad you do. I’m glad it’s you.” He told me, sweeter than ever before. 

“I wanted to wait till you were my age again before bringing it up, i'm sorry I didn’t say sooner.”  He looked down again and I smiled at him softly. 

“I understand, to be honest, don’t worry one bit… I wanna know… maybe I can find a way to get you out of here, and we can recollect my memories, and make new ones together...I don’t think I’m exactly the person you used to love, but I hope you can still love me now. As Dean.” 

    “That is a promise I can definitely keep. Thank you, Dean.”