The Last Days

Enderton Valley

It has been 46 years since I last visited this town. Not many people have heard about it, and justifiably so. There’s really nothing extraordinary that goes on around here. It's the typical “everybody knows everyone” sort of town with a couple of local stores that you wonder how are still in business. People’s lives here involve a very mundane routine till the moment they eventually decide to move somewhere far away. Lost within this world and situated in the middle of nowhere, it felt like this town just never found its purpose, and it was dissolving like a dying candle holding on to its last flame. Despite it all, Enderton Valley is still my hometown.

“Were there always so many trees around here?” Robbie asked from the driver's seat. He had been driving us both for six hours already, and we had just made it into town.

“They seem to have grown,” I responded. “Yet I feel like this place has shrunk in size. I remember it to be much bigger than this,” I responded.

“Well, you were much smaller the last time you were here,” Robbie responded.

Robert and I grew up together, right here in Enderton Valley, and neither of us had been back here in a long time. He moved away right when he turned 18, and I followed his steps a year later. He had been accepted to a university (he was always the smart one), and I had shifted focus on starting my own family fairly early on in my life.  We had grown distant over time but still managed to rekindle once in a while when the possibility arrived.

“They sure did renovate the library and make it much bigger, though,” Robbie remarked as he pointed towards a small old brick building with a much larger and more modern addition connected to it.

“Well, they ought to; you could barely fit anybody in there without overcrowding it,” I exaggerated, obviously.

“Not that you ever stepped inside the library anyway,” he chuckled. His comment piqued me a bit, but I ignored it because it was a fair point. I hate libraries.

“The only time I’d come near the library is to be in that ground next to it.” I observed the green-patched park neighboring the library as we drove by it. The set of swings was still there. From this distance I couldn’t tell if it was the same set from back when I used them as a kid or if somebody came and replaced them with a fresh set or not. But nevertheless, the park still had swings that lay in front of the wide-open green space where we used to play ball. It looked old and rustic but not in a melancholic way, but rather a natural gothic beauty. What was sad was that it seemed like barely anybody was using the park nowadays.

“We probably spent most of our childhood in that park. Every kid would be there, especially during the summer, Robbie said.

“Damn right. That's where Old Pete taught Doug and me how to throw splitters. I haven’t held a ball in years, but if you gave me one right now, I bet I’d be able to,” I said, completely believing my own words.

“Only if you don’t break your back first,” he snickered again.

“I miss Doug,” I said after a moment of silence.

“I do too,” Robbie responded.

Doug was our best friend through school. The three of us together were inseparable. Some may even think that we were brothers because we had spent our entire childhoods together. However, unlike Rob and me, Doug had stayed back home. He had lived his entire life in Enderton Valley, continuing his family’s local butcher store, and raised his family right here as well.

Most people, including me, got out of here the first chance we got. You see, this town was worth nothing, and nobody cared about it. You tell somebody you’re from Enderton Valley, and they’ll stare at you as clueless as a goldfish. They’ve never heard about it, and they’ll never remember it. It’s worth noting.

But Doug thought this place was everything. Or else he would’ve left just like everybody else, right? I haven’t seen Doug ever since I left this town. We talked occasionally when we thought of each other, but it wasn't as often as one would like. But that changes today. In fact, that's what this road trip is all about. We are finally visiting back to see Doug again after all these years. 

“Hey, wasn't the arcade right over there?” I pointed to our right as we were now driving through the main street.

“Wondercade,” Robbie answered. 

“God, what have they done to the place?” 

Wondercade was the best place in the world. As soon as school would end, we’d rush outside and dash towards it before it started getting crowded. I can still imagine the place as vividly as yesterday. The interior was essentially wrapped in neon lights with dozens of pinball machines lined up next to each other as we competed to break the record. Some would come to just smoke and hang, but not us; we were there ritually. I always tried to beat Buzz’s record. Buzz was two years older than me, and he went to the same school as us. We didn’t know each other, but I used to think he was the most badass person I’d ever met. Now all that remained of that space was a giant parking lot, which is much larger than it needs to be for the big-box retail store next to it. 

“Check out what’s coming up next,” Robbie pointed to a building that we were approaching. It was the new high school, I recognized. The old high school we went to used to be in the same location, but it was replaced by this new building a few years ago. The new school, sadly, held no resemblance to the building we attended.

“I heard about that. Apparently the old building had some structural damages, so they had to demolish it and build a whole new building in its place. Looks like a piece of shit now if you ask me,” I said. It had completely replaced the ornamentation and traditional language of the old brick building with giant glass and metal panels.

“What I’d give to be able to experience walking the hallways in a school again,” Robbie said. “Such a simpler time.”

“You know I’d like that too,” I said in return. “Which is weird because I hated everything about school as a kid, and all I ever waited for was the last day of school ever to arrive.”

“You know, everybody always gives so much attention to firsts. Like the first day of school or our first kiss, they are considered so important. But nobody ever thinks about the last days. Whether it's the last day you played outside or the last day you really hung out with your friends, we never realize them. Those last days arrive so quickly, and you never see them coming. Not until you're much older do you think back to those memories and wish that you could just relive them just one more time. Those kinds of thoughts occur when you realize that you're closer to your death than your own birth.”

It was true. Sometimes you move on a little too quickly to really appreciate the small details. I guess that's what I’ve been feeling ever since I arrived back in Enderton Valley as well. The house where I grew up, the streets I ran around in, the places I spent time at, and the friends that I made—it all belongs here. This place has brought back so many memories, including many that I didn’t even realize I still had saved in my head. This place, even though it has changed just as much as I have, will always be my home. 

I guess this place isn’t too boring after all. Road trips symbolize beginnings, but our road trip had brought me closure. Enderton Valley did have meaning; I just didn’t find it till now. Despite the fact that we were visiting to attend Doug's funeral, it didn't seem like a farewell but rather a reunion.