Free Penpal by Dathan Auerbach

atrophy when I moved away was mostly thanks to the efforts that our parents made.
    Thanks to them, we were still friends when we were ten years old …
    One weekend in fifth grade, I was staying at Josh’s and my mom called me to say goodnight; she was still pretty watchful even when she couldn’t actually watch me, but I had gotten so used to it that I didn’t even notice it, even if Josh did. She sounded upset, so I asked her if I had done something.
    She told me that Boxes was missing.
    This must have been a Saturday night because I was going home the next day since there was school on Monday. Boxes had been missing since Friday afternoon – I gathered that my mother had not seen him since returning home after dropping me off at Josh’s the day before. She must have decided to tell me he was missing because if he didn’t come home before I did, then I would be devastated; not only by his absence, but by the fact that she had kept it from me. She told me not to worry. “He’ll come back. He always does!”
    But Boxes didn’t come back.
    Three weekends later, I stayed at Josh’s again. I had spent every day after school walking around the neighborhood calling for Boxes, and listening, hoping to hear him. I could think of almost nothing but finding my cat and was noticeably downtrodden by his absence; he was my oldest friend. My mom told me that there had been many times when pets had disappeared from home for weeks or even months, only to return on their own; she said they always knew where home was and would always try to get back. I was explaining this to Josh when a thought struck me so hard that I interrupted my own sentence to say it aloud.
    “What if Boxes thought of the wrong home?”
    Josh was confused. “What? He lives with you. He knows where his home is.”
    “Yeah, but he grew up somewhere else, Josh. He was raised in my old house. Maybe he still thinks of that place as home … like I do.”
    “Ohhh I get it. Well that’d be great! We’ll tell my dad tomorrow, and he’ll take us over there so we can look!”
    “No, he won’t. My mom said that we couldn’t ever go back to that place because the new owners wouldn’t wanna be bothered. She said that she told your mom and dad the same thing.”
    Josh persisted. “Okay. Then we’ll just go out exploring tomorrow and make our way to your old house—”
    “No! C’mon, Josh! Remember the last time we got caught playing in the woods? Even if your dad doesn’t catch us, if we get spotted, your dad will find out and then so will my mom! I wouldn’t be allowed to come spend the night anymore … my old house is just a couple neighborhoods away.”
    We sat there silent in his room for a moment before I said what I think Josh already knew I was going to say.
    “We have to go there ourselves … We have to go there tonight …”
    It didn’t take that much convincing to get Josh on board since he was usually the one to come up with ideas like this, but we had never snuck out of his house before. While we waited until everyone was asleep, we discussed our strategy for getting there, while also debating how we would explain Boxes’ sudden appearance to our parents if we should happen to find him.
    About an hour after Josh’s parents came in to tell us to go to bed, we crept out of Josh’s room to go find a flashlight. Josh knew that his dad had several, but he had no idea where he kept them; the garage seemed like the most obvious place. We moved silently through the house and eased the interior door to the garage open. It gave a faint squeak, and we paused before pulling it open and passing through the doorway.
    I went to turn the light on, and Josh hissed at me. There was no real way that the light in the garage would have woken anyone in the house up, but when you’re attempting to be discreet, it’s hard to know where to draw the line. Suddenly, all actions become covert by default – like when two friends begin whispering, and after a