As they grew up together, they made many pacts while they played their favorite video games in Max's parent's basement. One of those pacts was to be each other's best man at the other's wedding, no matter what.
Three years after they made that specific pact, they were riding four-wheelers on a course behind Max's house. It was a beautiful day; the sky was clear, the grass was green and the smoke in the sky was almost forgettable.
The ambulance was delayed because Jim, the trusted driver, was on the pot. His zipper got stuck. When they finally got on scene, his fly was open. Sam noticed but didn't comment. The sight of Max's charred body had taken all his words.
It was Cindy that got Sam through the death of his best friend. She held him while he cried and stuck around through all the outbursts of anger. She was a pro at grief; it was just her and her dad now.
One day, Sam and Cindy were at their favorite coffee shop. The sky was a comfy shade of gray, the coffee was warm, his heart was full. The proposal got 52 likes on Facebook.
Wedding planning began immediately but Sam put off picking a best man.
A month out from the day of the wedding, November 2, 2017, was the anniversary of Max's death. It was that night that Cindy chose to yell at Sam to get his butt in gear so they could get the wedding party together. It was their worst fight. The silence afterward held the weight of the door slam for an awkwardly long amount of time.
The spare key to Max's parent's house burned cold on the chain around Sam's neck. He didn't know he was going to the basement until their paint-chipped backdoor was in front of him.
It was late. Max's parents (they were still called parents.. right?) had fallen asleep hours ago in separate beds, her in Max's and him in the one they used to share.
Maybe they had left the TV on? The least he could do was turn it off for them, help save their electricity.
He skipped the fourth step because it always creaked. Muscle memory made him knock on the wall twice, pause, and then thrice more - their secret code - as he descended.
"Hey, Sam! You took forever! Get over here! I'm getting slaughtered!"
The air was cold and his heart thudded in his chest. Sam stood still.
There was Max, just as he was the day he died - eyes glued to the TV screen and knuckles white against the controller - like nothing had changed in the past few years.
Sam shook his head, considered turning back, but the game got more intense. His gaming instincts took over.
At first they only commented on the game. It was like the rhythm of their life had never been disturbed.
With his eyes on the screen, Sam took a deep breath, released it, and told Max about Cindy; asked him to be his best man.
He caught Max's smile from the corner of his eye and matched it with his own.
"Yeah man, of course, we made a pact, remember? Let's just finish this round and then we'll go plan the bachelor party."
It was a nice escape from reality. They ended up playing "just one more round" three more times. One of the characters in the final round had blonde hair like Cindy and, suddenly, Sam couldn't wait to get home.
He forgot about the fourth step on the way back up. It's squeal disturbed a cat that got under Sam's feet and almost made him fall. When he turned to ask Max when they'd gotten a cat, the blue light from the TV was gone and the basement was empty.
The night was considerably warmer than it was when he'd gotten there. Sam's coat dragged against the ground as he trudged back to Cindy's house.
He went to push on the back door to let himself in, but the never-locked door held firm.
Three loud pounds brought a tall man with a shotgun to the front door. His name was Brad and he'd gotten the house from his estranged great aunt six years prior. He wasn't Cindy's father.
He threatened to put a bullet through Sam's head and then call the police if he didn't stop hollarin' for some "Cindy" that didn't live there.
Sam backed away and walked down the road till he came to a brand new convenience store on the corner.
The lights inside were blinding but it was the date on the flashing, light-up display that burned in his retinas.
November 2, 2317.
Authors Note:
The idea behind this story came from the Russian Folktale The Two Friends. In that story, two best friends agree to invite the other to their weddings, dead or alive. One of the friends ends up dying and the one that lives eventually decides to get married. On his wedding day, they drive by the graveyard and he remembers the deal he made with his best friend. He tells the wedding party to wait while he goes and sees his friend's graveside. When he gets there, he (almost jokingly) asks his friend to come to his wedding. Suddenly, the grave opens and his dead friend appears and is happy that his living friend remembered. He invites him to celebrate with a drink. Both hop into the grave and have three drinks together, but with each drink, a hundred years passes. When the friend who is getting married leaves the grave, nothing is the same. He runs to the village and finds only strangers. The priest helps him go through the records and they find that three hundred years ago, a bridegroom disappeared on his wedding day and his bride eventually married someone else.
My story is essentially a modern retelling. I chose to make their meeting place a basement instead of a grave (both put you underground but I felt a basement was a little more plausible). I also threw in some more characters to spice it up and I made the friend die from an accident rather than sickness like in the real story. I also changed the timeline a bit and had the two friends reunite a month before the wedding because I felt that was a little more plausible than the day of.
I hope you enjoyed this story! It was really fun to write!
Good luck with finals and life in general! It's almost over!! (The finals, not your life.. hopefully).
Bibliography: Russian Folktales unit. Story source: Russian Fairy Tales: The Two Friends. by W. R. S. Ralston (1887).
Image: Basement stairway
