The bus dropped me near the county highway.
From there, I walked.
Almost six miles.
By the time I reached the old house, my shoes had rubbed my heels raw.
Then I found strangers living there.
A new family.
New curtains.
A bicycle in the yard.
Plastic toys on the porch.
A different mailbox.
The oak tree was still there.
That was all.
I stood at the edge of the road after the man closed the door.
For a moment, I did not know where to go.
Then I walked toward town.
Cedar Valley had changed.
There was a coffee shop where the laundromat used to be.
The pharmacy had a new sign.
The old diner had become a bank.
But some things were the same.
People still watched strangers.
And some remembered me.
I saw it in their faces.
A woman coming out of the post office looked at me twice.
