1.

The roaring of the thunder echoed not far away. Mathew closed the window just in time before the wind carried rain into the kitchen. He counted the plates, adding more to match the number of people. 

'I'm glad everyone got here before the weather snapped.' He thought while carrying the plates, making sure not to bump into other family members coming in and out of the kitchen.

Unlike the outside, the air was warm and cheerful. The chatter of extended family members was audible across the house. 

Mathew placed the plates extra thoughtfully, extra carefully. Every click of silverware made him put the next one with added gentleness. His eyes stole a quick glance at the one chair, the head of the table. Where his father used to sit. 

Many seats have changed this time around. The wounds are fresh and the new status quo is like wet ceramic dough, yet to solidify, yet to be stable enough to handle the bumps in the road coming from life and family. 

He picked up his pace as soon as he felt himself zoning out and the table was set in no time. He wore his usual faint smile and called out everybody as other cousins came with pots of food. 

They sat, swiftly managing the disorientation of their new seats. Mathew told the story when one of the trucks parked in the wrong loading areas and workers who opened the cargo found boxes of cotton instead of plant fertilizer. 

"It's funny if you know how the loading areas are named, believe me!"

 "Yeah sure." His uncle chuckled, starting a bickering match that Mathew felt comfortable engaging in. It was much more comfortable to have dinner with his extended family than with his step family, the two young adults and woman sitting right across from him, which he gave a polite acknowledging nod to every now and then. 

He pretended to look at them but the wall behind them was what was actually stared at. 

"Oh right, where is your friend?" His aunt asked him. 

"Yeah right, you're not hanging out with him on your days off? You two fought?" His uncle followed. 

"No, Wind is searching every bookstore in the province right now. Looking for a rare atlas or something." 

"Right, you two would never fight."

"We ran out of things to fight about." 

Plus it wasn't possible to fight with the person who stood in front of hard times, told you everything was alright, and went ahead and contacted every government office when his father and other family members went missing.

'No, no negative thoughts! We're almost out of this startled phase.' He scolded himself. 

A rod of lightning beamed at a close distance, a scream of thunder soon followed. Everyone froze for a split second. 

Their grandfather was the first to go back to him meal, pondering as he cut the steak. When he opened his lips, it was for the words, not for the bite. 

"They found some survivors of the train. I will be going to see if my son is there." 

He took the bite, and the air got heavy and loaded, like still water. 

They all looked at their plates. Working on the next bite as if they were engineering a complex system. 

Mathew saw his cousin open his mouth, only to stuff it with a bite instead. He felt glad he didn't try to reason with their grandfather with the plenty of failed searches under every member's belt. 

"But HOW?" His step sister asked, clutching onto her fork and knife. "How can a whole train just vanish? Without any trace?!" 

His step mother patted her daughter's shoulder until her stiff back relaxed a bit. 

And naturally no one had the answer or anything adjacent to it. 

There were no accident, no crash, no trace of any natural calamity. 

Plain nothing. 

There was a train with the number 2686 and now it's nowhere to be found. People inside it too. 

Mathew drowned the well cooked food down with his orange juice, wishing he was eating street corn with greasy butter and overloaded Tajin seasoning with Wind instead of this crippling silence. 

Another crash of thunder roared, except the front door creaked open with it. Storming rain drenching the entrance. 

They turned their heads to the door, a shadow loomed and elongated by the house's warm light. 

When Mathew turned his head, he found his father at the door, all wet and disheveled like he had come back from a far travel. 

The next three hours were a frenzy. The grandfather fainted, questions like the pouring rain, and family members looking at each other in disbelief over and over again. 

There was too much happening at the same time, Mathew felt like he was a ghost watching a TV program behind the family sofa in a foreign apartment. The present seemed like a distant memory that doesn't belong to him. 

He attended to his grandfather, ran back and forth bringing dry clothes and towels but he felt his footsteps light like he was stepping on air. 

He greeted his father after his step siblings and after his step mom stopped hugging the returning man. 

"Wow. I don't know what to say...Anyway glad you're back!" He said, awkwardly reaching for a hug. 

All night he alternated between staring at the ceiling and the newspaper articles about the missing train two years ago. When sleep took over him twenty minutes before sunrise he thought he would be waking up from a weird dream. 

At nine in the morning the sun was up and the house was as happily loud as it could get. Almost a breakfast party was thrown downstairs. 

He stiffly went to the kitchen and filled a plate with scrambled eggs. The chatter of his father and half brother made him slow down the scooping. 

Every move was slow and stiff it eased him into a conversation with his cousins about the anomalies. 

"I contacted someone who lost a friend in that train. Looks like his friend came back two days ago." His uncle told. 

"But another family didn't get their son back yet." His aunt countered. 

"Maybe they're not coming back at the same exact time." Another aunt concluded. 

His uncle nudged him to go to his father since he was finally without company. He walked up to the table and sat right across him. 

"Bet you didn't get an ounce of silence since you got here." He joked, wearing confidence. 

"Yeah, you're telling me two years have passed?" He chuckled as the only outlet for his confusion. "Just yesterday I was on the train, then all of a sudden I fell on the ground near your uncle's house..." He exhaled after the quick words.

"It'll be okay, you just need some rest." That was the only thing he could come up with before his step brother came up to his father, he'd only go to fill up their plates. 

"Well, enough about me. How are you all? A lot can happen in two years."

Mathew watched his father's expression as his other kids told him about the events of their lives, big or mundane he made the face of someone who regrets not witnessing all those life moments. 

He couldn't look at that expression anymore. 

He told how their uncle had finally sold his property. After people swore he would not find a buyer for that distant piece of land. 

"He bragged about that for three weeks straight. Please don't ask him about that." He laughed, making sure his uncle wasn't behind him or something.

 "What about you, son?" 

"Nothing much, days are quite the same to be honest." He shrugged. 

"Really, cause I thought you traveled with your long time friend or something." He said, looking at the framed Egyptian beetle on the wall. 

"Oh this? Wind got it when I got promoted but uncle loved it so it lives here now." He smiled at the memory of his scrawny friend lifting the huge frame from his motorcycle. 

"You got promoted?" His step sister asked, a little dumbfounded. 

"Yeah, about eight months ago," He stated the fact and didn't let it linger before moving on. A move he uses a lot with his bosses. 

His father looked at them but decided to address these things at a later time. And Mathew had already prepared a list of busy work excuses to spit out if was to asked about not contacting his half family for the last two years. 

In his defense he sees them at family functions like this so it's not as bad as it looks. 

But it was apparent to him how easy it was for his half family to talk to his father, unlike him. Like he was a half stranger, not far comfortably enough or close enough. 

He stood up, excused himself to run a quick errand and walked out. 

He sat at the edge of a quiet lake, close enough to the neighborhood but not close enough to be a part of it. They tried to turn it into a park at some point but it didn't work out. 

He looked at the swaying water, half zoning out while eating a plain yogurt. 

He should be happy that his father is back and safe. 

It could have been worse. He shouldn't be remembering all the times his father wasn't there for his baseball match. It shouldn't matter that he was away all the time. It wasn't a big deal that his step siblings had it different. 

It shouldn't be upsetting this many decades after. It could've been worse. Kids get abandoned. His boss grew up with alcoholics. His previous co-worker lived between foster services. He shouldn't be feeling this wounded with something so trivial. 

'I'm a grown man that bosses people around for crying out loud...' He sighed, gulping a spoonful of the yogurt. 

As he was summoning more painful memories from the past something big slammed into a nearby shrub. 

Brought back from his thoughts he walked carefully to the shrub. As soon as he moved the branches around he knew he would be stumbling onto some bullshit. 

"What are you doing this time? Wind." He rubbed the back of his neck. 

"I was trying to enjoy my days off but it turned into running for my life." He said. Already up and dusting himself off. Like a cat that sprung up nonchalantly after falling from a high place. 

Mathew ate the rest of the yogurt while listening to how the bus Wind was taking got mugged while taking a shortcut road. 

"Well the southern cities aren't well known for their safety after all," He said before finishing his yogurt. "Please tell me you found your atlas after all that."

Wind ruffled his shaggy hair, ready to brag. 

All Mathew saw was his friend showing off a long withered scroll that looked like an old dirty rolled up rug. 

"...All that trouble for this?" 

"You gonna see some real glory soon!" He uttered while trying to roll it down.

Mathew just laughed while the other tried and failed to roll it smoothly. 

Much to his surprise the rug floated in the air, laughing soon turned into choking on air. 

"..." He stepped closer with doubtful steps. Wind had his hands on his waist like a proud dad. 

"See? Told you!" 

"If something like this exists how come no one took it already?" Mathew touched it with hesitance. Something in it like a coin reflected light briefly.

"People don't care for cool stuff anymore," Wind shrugged. He clutched onto it, rolling it up again before turning to his friend. "So, why so glum chum?" 

"What? Nothing." 

"You're telling me you're not sad while eating plain yogurt by the lake? Please."

"You just hate yogurt." He scoffed. 

"Between EVERYTHING the convenience store offers you get this? of course I have opinions about that." 

"Whatever man." He walked to the lake, sitting by the edge. And his friend followed him. 

The traveler was told everything that happened in the previous chaotic night while washing his face and legs in the lake's cool water. Mathew just talked, without overthinking his words or running filters through them. He just stared at the glassy water and told his thoughts out loud. 

He was waiting for his friend to spit out a wild theory at some point, but the brunette man just nodded along, listening with deep focus. 

"Well, kinda like the best scenario just happened. No point in speculating further, though that would be fun," Wind patted his shoulder. "At least you won't have to worry about your dad anymore. That really put a number on you." 

Mathew didn't reply. He just stared at his wobbly reflection on the water. 

He pondered how it could've been so much worse, and forgot that his friend was making things better by sheer existing. By just being here. 

They parted ways. Wind slept until the next sunrise, and he went and helped clean up his uncle's house after the function. 

He was swept up to stay the night in his step brother's how. One couldn't say no to that when their messing father is back home after two years. 

But the distance was suffocating. The talk was dry. Every attempt to smush him into the conversation ended with stiff fate. And it seemed easier to be anywhere else. 

He knew for long that these people knew each other more than he could ever wrap his head around. He knew he was a stranger pretending to be closer to them than he actually was. 

He realized that the past two years had substantial relief within them because he wasn't torn apart in this self inflected misery. 

And now it's like going into the snowy streets after being in a warm house. 

And he walked in the snowy streets until the next day. 

And next day he walked to his friend's house. Who was messing around with the floating rug like a kid who got a new game. 

"You're really happy with this find." Despite saying that Mathew knew it's not like any other collectible his friend had brought before. 

"Yeah! It's gonna take me into marvelous places too." 

"You're planning on traveling with it?" 

"Why else would one take a flying rug? Silly!" 

He stood there, staring at nothing. Sure his friend loved everything strange and had an unusual wonderlust. Sure he traveled to less than assuring places. But this and that were different. Who knows where that flying rug would take him. Who knows what could happen. 

What if the person how played the baseball match with disappeared. 

What if the friend he can depend on is no longer there. He felt it to the depth of his very bones that he had no one else. And the very person was about to saunter in the sky for the sake of it. 

"I'm going with you." He grabbed his friend's hand.