A Simple PB&J...

The garage door hummed as it opened, grinding and screeching out an arrhythmic rattle as Sam pulled in. The house was relatively lifeless, save for the white kitchen light emanating casting a dim glow like a waypoint. Hunger was a strange thing that crept up at the most random times and despite himself, Sam found the thought of a peanut butter and jelly sandwich rather appealing. His stomach growled in agreement as he fished out the JIF and Smuckers. Pedestrian, sure, but it satisfied the cravings that crossing into a fictional otherworld brought on.

“It’s been awhile since you’ve brought someone back.” Asked a voice from behind. Sam whirled around, almost dropping the peanut butter in the process. His mother was sitting in the doorway, leaning against the frame with a contented look on her face. His mind cycled through excuses as to why the trip home had taken so long before finally settling on the usual.

“Yeah, it has been. Sorry it took so long to get back, I ended up taking the back way that runs along the turnpike. You know, the forest that cuts by Weeke Hill?” He proffered the excuse, less to avoid embarrassment and more to put his mother at ease. She worried and it manifested in the subtle wariness with which she treated him since his return from Ireland.

“Oh, yeah. Must be real nice looking this time of year, but please, drive safe, I don’t want you gunning it to make it back home for some curfew. You’re twenty-two.” She said with the same cautious tone she always had now.

“I was going the speed limit.” Sam said, “It just usually takes longer so I wanted to make sure you weren’t worried I was out doing **** or some shit, I don’t know.” He bit back a sarcastic remark about being sorry for concerning her.

“Well, you were only gone for ten minutes so I don’t see how you could have made it down Weeke Hill AND past the 7-11 that fast without speeding.” His mom said. Sam grimaced as he glanced at the microwave clock, using a squint to disguise the visible concern on his face. He’d left with Masako at around ten o’clock and despite how long it had felt like his encounter with Wren had dragged on, the clock only read half-past. He’d have to have been gone for half an hour at least and yet not only did the microwave tell him otherwise but so too did the clock on his phone.

“I… guess I was speeding a bit. Sorry, I’ll try to be more careful about that.” He sighed. The two exchanged goodnight hugs and his mother retired back upstairs to go to bed leaving Sam with his thoughts. The full weight of the night’s events hadn’t been apparent until now and he felt his shoulders physically sag under the weight of the shock that overtook him. The sandwich sat unattended as he pulled a chair up to the kitchen table and cradled his head in his hands. So many loose ends and things he knew he should have asked or done while he was there. The saline burn of tears in his nostrils threatened to come to the surface as he mentally flicked through all the unanswered questions before settling on the one that was given a conclusive resolution. He’d been there, wherever that place was, before. And judging from his encounter with Wren, for better or for worse, it most likely wouldn’t be his last trip into the Ammwyn.