Free Across the Creek by Jeremy Asher

New Haven. Then he noticed a photo that seemed out of place, yet familiar. All of the other photos were portraits, posed by a professional who snapped the photo, except for this one. It appeared to be taken with an everyday camera. Sarah looked a few years younger than when he had known her, and she was playing with an even younger boy. “How about this one? Is he a cousin?”
    A sober expression formed on Sarah’s face. “Actually, that was my brother.”
    “Your brother? I didn’t know you had a…” Jesse stopped. He remembered the day when she had taken him up to her room. This was the same photo that was sitting next to her bed. She had told him that day, told him that he’d died, but never elaborated. At the age of twelve, Jesse wasn’t sure how to respond. Even now he found it difficult to comment. Losing someone close to you is a horrible thing to have to experience, something that Jesse was all too familiar with.
    Sarah removed the photo from the wall. Pain swirled in her eyes. “His name was Henry. He passed away when I was ten.”
    “I’m sorry.”
    Sarah’s eyes never left Henry’s image. “He was only five years old.” She paused. “It was twelve years ago, but with each passing year I find it more difficult to remember what he was like. It feels like I keep losing pieces of him as time goes by.” Jesse placed a hand on her shoulder. He often thought about his mother as an exercise to keep her fresh in his memory. But she was right. Time was a thief when it came to memories. Not so much the memories as the details that give the memories life, making them more than just a dream. “He smiled a lot. I remember that. He was happy all the time.” A smile formed on her face. “One time I walked into my bedroom and he had gotten into my Barbie makeup kit. He was rubbing lipstick on his cheeks. I think he thought it was blush or something. He looked like a goofy clown, but he still wore that same ridiculously wonderful smile.”
    Jesse hated that he had unknowingly opened an old wound. He wanted so badly to wrap his arms around her. Comfort her. Take away her pain. But he knew it wasn’t his place. “He sounds great. I remember one time I walked in on Robbie singing a Color Me Bad song. He was using his comb as a microphone.” He paused. “It must have been hard for you. Losing someone so close.”
    She hung the picture back on the wall. “It was a long time ago. But I still miss him.” “Wherever he is now,” Jesse said, “I’m sure he’s missing you too.”
    Sarah looked at Jesse and smiled. “Thank you. Did you see this one?” she asked, pointing to a picture of a tree.
    Jesse moved in for a closer look. The smell of wildflowers and a hint of something sweet filled his nose, igniting something deep inside of him, just as it did when she had hugged him the other day at the pet shop. He looked harder at the photograph she was pointing to. “Is that? It can’t be. The willow tree!”
    “That’s it. Just before we moved to Chicago I took a picture of it. You see…” She pointed to a body of water behind the tree. “There’s Crooked Creek, where you taught me to catch crawfish.”
    That tree had become the one place where Jesse could go as a child and escape from the pressures of home. His mom had done the best she could, given the circumstances, but things were far from easy. “Wow, I haven’t seen that tree in...” He paused, trying to remember the last time he had laid eyes on it. Then it dawned on him that it was the last time he had seen Sarah. The first and last time they had kissed. Every detail of that kiss came back to him, along with the memory of what he had found at home just minutes later. It was the best and worst day of his life.
    Jesse stared into her soft blue eyes as the walls around him started to slip away. He was no longer at a party, no longer at Sarah’s apartment; he was simply with Sarah and nothing else mattered. His chest ached and an overwhelming