Ike Hamill - Migrators

“Hi, Bob,” Alan said. “Nice day, huh?”

“Beautiful,” Bob said. “I called your cell. Liz picked up and said you’d be down here.”

Alan patted his pockets. “I knew I forgot something.” He smiled.

“I was hoping you could pick up my mail for a few days. I have to go take a meeting.”

“Of course,” Alan said. “No problem. I’ll just leave it on your counter?”

“Perfect,” Bob said.

“Good meeting or bad meeting?”

“Good. Could be very good, actually. One of my projects might start production this fall. It’s something I’ve been waiting on for awhile, so I’m excited. We’re meeting with the money guys down in Boston. I should be back by Thursday at the latest.”

“Congratulations, and good luck,” Alan said. “Hey, Joe, I bet you didn’t realize that Bob is a famous director.”

“Really?” Joe asked. He straightened up and paused his search for another flat rock.

“Not famous enough that I don’t have to beg for money to make a movie,” Bob said, laughing. “But I guess that’s most of us.”

“Cool,” Joe said.

“You have any prospective buyers coming in this week? Do you need me to let anyone in?”

“No,” Bob said. “Actually, I’ve decided to take the place off the market. The more I thought about it, the winter up here wasn’t so bad. I never thought I would enjoy that much snow, but I really did.”

“So you’re staying?” Alan asked. A smile spread across his face. At the end of October, Alan felt that he owed Bob more than he could ever express. After only knowing his family for a couple of months, Bob had risked his own life to help Alan and Liz care for their son, and he had done it without question. But, even more than that, over the winter Bob had become a close friend. He came over on Wednesday nights for dinner, and when they could find a sitter, Bob sometimes went out with Liz and Alan to the movies. In a few short months, Alan began to think of Bob as his first real friend as an adult. He wasn’t a friend through work, or someone he only saw at holiday parties, or an old friend from college. Alan was thrilled that his friend wasn’t moving away quite so soon.

“Yeah, I’m going to keep that house,” Bob said. “I’ve got a lot of work in it. Obviously, my job will take me away for months at a time, but this will be my home base.”

“That’s great,” Alan said.

“What did you guys decide?” Bob asked, lowering his voice.

“Hey, Joe,” Alan said. “That’s the beaver dam over there. Why don’t you see if there’s a short stick with chew marks on it.”

“Okay,” Joe said.

Alan waited for Joe to move out of earshot before he answered.

“You know how stressful the holidays were for Liz. Of the relatives who did show up, half of them seemed resentful and the other half seemed like they were trying to loot the place. I swear, after Christmas I thought she was going to burn the place down and collect the insurance,” Alan said.

Bob nodded.

“But she’s really turned the corner in the past month or so. All of the living Prescotts seem to have moved away, and we’ve accounted for all the bones mentioned in the book. As for the house—I love the place, now that I’m allowed to make changes. After I get everything done this summer, that house is going to be really livable. Joe’s doing great in his new school, and Liz is really starting to make strides at work. I think that house is really going to work for us. I never would have believed it last November, but I think I really understand why Liz loves that place so much. It feels like home.”

Bob smiled.

“I guess we’ll be neighbors for awhile then,” Bob said.

Joe ran up with a short length of wood. It was a little more than a foot long and three or four inches in diameter.

“They chewed this one at both ends. Do you think we could cut it off?” Joe asked Alan.

“Sure,” Alan said. “Maybe we don’t need to though.” Alan turned to Bob. “Joe’s doing an oral report on nature’s architects. He’s looking for a visual aid.”

“Nice,” Bob said. “I’ve got to get going. Thanks for picking up my mail.”

“No problem,” Alan said. “Good luck with your meeting.”

“Thanks,” Bob said. “Good luck with your report, Joe.” He began the process of finding a dry path back across the beaver dam.

SEPTEMBER 27

“AGAIN,” BOB said. “You’re welcome to my place. I won’t be back until the middle of December. Actually, you’d be doing me a favor. I’m just going to worry about that new roof on the garage.”

“If you didn’t let Alan help you with these things, you wouldn’t have to worry about them so much,” Liz said.

Bob laughed. They were sitting at the little kitchen table of the old farmhouse. Liz was waiting for Alan and Joe to finish packing. Bob was there to say goodbye.

Alan poked his head around the corner from the dining room. “I can hear you, you know,” Alan said.

Liz waved and smiled.

“We really appreciate the offer Bob, but honestly, your place isn’t quite far enough away. I have no plans to be in this zip code again until after Halloween.”

“That’s understandable,” Bob said.

“Maybe some day,” Liz said. “Maybe some day when Joe is grown up and has moved away, I’ll take the chance that those things aren’t coming back. For now, I’ll just assume that this place is off-limits in October.”

“The book suggested that the bones of the ancestors were crucial. Alan got rid of all those bones in the attic, right? It might be safe to stay.”

“Nope,” Liz said. “We had a long talk about it. Alan and I decided that we have enough money to rent a nice place for the month, so we might as well do it. We’re actually going to be living just a mile from one of Joe’s classmates. Alan will drop him off at his friend’s house and then Joe will get to ride to school in a Bentley every day, if you can believe that. Alan offered to alternate days on taking the boys to school. The mom took one look at Alan’s Toyota and I thought her heart would stop. It was priceless.”

Alan walked in with a bag slung over his shoulder and a big bag in each hand.

“This is the last of it, I think,” Alan said.

“Is there anything left upstairs?” Liz asked. “Or did you gut the place and stuff it into bags?”

“Darling, I’ll remind you that one of these bags is filled entirely with hair products and shoes,” Alan said. “Care to guess how much of that stuff is mine?”

Bob laughed and Liz quickly changed the subject.

“Joe! Let’s go,” Liz said.

“You should see this place we’re renting, Bob,” Alan said.

“I wish I could,” Bob said. “Actually, I should head out now. I have to get some equipment through airport security. It could take extra time.”

“I’ll check up on your place whenever I can, and we will see you soon,” Alan said. He put out his hand for Bob to shake.

“Wait, hold on for a second,” Alan said.

Liz stopped the car near the mailbox. The house looked small and cute and clean. Nothing about the place, even the ornamental tree sitting in the center of a little mound of mulch, looked more than ten years old. Joe had his face pressed against the back window, trying to see the neighbor’s house through the bushes. Alan’s old Toyota was parked off to the side, leaving enough room for Liz to squeeze into the garage.

“What are you doing?” Liz asked.

“Just hold on a second,” Alan said. He was fiddling with his phone.

“Can we rent this place in the winter so we can be closer to the ski slopes?”