What's Left Behind

The sun shined through scattered clouds, glinting off the silver hatchback, filled to the brim with boxes and belongings. Willow, hands full with a box, slammed the trunk closed with her forehead.

“Want a hand?” Joseph asked.

“I got it!” Willow said, without glancing back. She ran around the car and popped her box into the passenger seat. The edge of her white sundress twirled as she dashed around. Joseph already missed watching that dress twirl.

“Drive safe, I hear it’s going to rain,” Isaac said.

“It’s only three hours, don’t be such a mother.”

Isaac just rolled his eyes. He’d been trying to teach Willow caution since the three moved in together during their second year.

She looked at the boys, her eyes squinting in the sun. “This is it, then?”

“Not without a hug goodbye,” Isaac said, and embraced her. “I’ll miss you. Don’t forget us in the Big Apple.”

“Not if you send me pictures from Germany.”

She moved over to Joseph and his heart skipped a beat. He opened his mouth to say something, anything, but the words slipped. Willow wrapped him in an embrace, and he patted her shoulder.

That’s it?

They waved as she pulled away so fast that Joseph thought the tires would skid. It was just like her to rush to the next thing. He wondered if she ever looked back, or if she had time to.

Inside the house, they had a sea of belongings. Most were in strewn-about boxes, and it all needed to be packed tonight. They divided the work, Joseph taking the kitchen and Isaac piling belongings into boxes and moving them to the driveway to be loaded into Joseph’s parents’ car, which he borrowed for the weekend. As they worked, clouds gathered above them.

“I think Willow forgot this,” Isaac said, as he was packing up the bookshelf. He held a framed picture of the three of them on the day they moved in. “She said she was going to take this.”

Joseph was struck with disappointment. They looked so happy in that picture. He remembered the promises they made to each other that day. We’ll take turns cooking. On Fridays, we can have a movie night! But those days were over.

“We should call her! She can’t be too far by now, or maybe we could send it-”

“It’s not that big of a deal,” Isaac said. “You’ll just give it to her the next time you see her. I’ll put it with your stuff.” Isaac headed outside and put the picture frame with the stacks of boxes. Alone for a moment, Joseph felt embarrassed at his over-reaction. Of course he’d see her soon. Right?

As Isaac entered the house, he said, “Maybe she decided to leave it. She has the picture on her phone anyways.”

“No way!” Joseph said, a bit louder than he hoped. “She wouldn’t have done that.” He blushed and glanced away before he saw Isaac’s reaction. “We’ve worked hard enough, let’s get dinner.”

They decided on their favourite: a Chinese takeout spot where you could get a mountain of rice and pork for nine dollars. On the way home they picked up a six-pack. Isaac suggested they invest in import, but Joseph insisted on their regular.

“Why Hofbräu?” Joseph asked as they walked home.

“I should try a German beer before moving there—in case it’s a requirement for my work visa.” Isaac’s face didn’t crack a smile.

“You still don’t have your visa? What are you going to do?”

Isaac shrugged, his hands shoved in his pockets as he walked. Joseph wished he could see through Isaac’s round glasses and impenetrable face. “I’ll see what happens. I bought the tickets, Sam is there waiting for me. I don’t have a choice now.”

“You must be excited.”

“Excited? Of course. But I can’t help thinking, what if I don’t get my visa? Or can’t find a job? Or don’t like it there? Sometimes I wish I was staying, like you.” He sighed. “I’ve been dating Sam for almost three years, and I’ve always known I’d want to move in with him after university. It’s just never felt this real.”

“I get it. I thought life would be different by now. I would’ve done, or said things that I ended up just…” Joseph already regretted his words. “Some things just don’t change.”

“You never told Willow how you felt about her?”

Joseph shot Isaac a look and blushed furiously. He cracked under Isaac’s stare. “Is it that obvious?”

“Obvious? No. But I’m not dense, and neither was she. But now it’s time to move on. You had your chance, and thinking about it now isn’t going to make you feel any better.”

Joseph felt a lump rise in his throat. Isaac was his best friend, how could he be so cold? If Willow were here, she would understand. The thought of her stung. He felt a confused rage building up inside. Then he felt a droplet of rain, then more, and in seconds it was a downpour.

The boxes!

Before they got dinner, they left Joseph’s boxes on the driveway but never loaded them into the car. They ran down the street to the house, dumped the beers and takeout onto the coffee table and dashed back outside.

Joseph grabbed a box in his arms, the one with Willow’s picture frame balanced on top. He headed towards the house as Isaac was rushing out.

“Where are you going?” Isaac said over the pouring rain. “Bring them to the car.”

“It’ll be faster to bring them inside!” Joseph said, but he knew it wasn’t true. He couldn’t handle the thought of the house bare of their belongings. “Let me have one more night!” Joseph clenched the box in his hands and marched forward. Willow’s picture frame slipped, and he watched it hit the pavement and shatter.

“Now look what you’ve done,” Isaac said, shaking his head.

Joseph dumped his box on the ground and bunched his fists. “I thought I had another night. Why did she have to leave early?”

Isaac’s sopping hair hung in front of his eyes and raindrops ran down his fogged-up glasses. For an instant, Joseph saw through his face and saw his fear. Heavy rain filled the silence. “I get it, Joseph. I can’t predict the future, and I miss Willow too. I don’t know if the three of us will ever be in the same place again. But you can’t depend upon memories forever.”

“This is my home. These memories are all that I have,” Joseph said, his voice cracking.

“Make new ones, like me.”

He stepped past Joseph and picked up a box. Joseph stood still as rain fell upon his shoulders like a standing baptism. Wordlessly, the two men lifted the boxes into the car. It only took a few minutes to put everything away. They went back inside and sat down to eat dinner and drink the now-warm beers.

They sat, and Isaac proposed a toast. “To the future.”

Joseph lifted his glass. “To tonight.”

Outside in the clearing rain, the photo of the three of them still lay shattered on the driveway.