THE HOUSE AT NUMBER TWELVE

All Detours are Costly. The fortunate ones find that it pays them back as well.

Samuel had one rule.
Do NOT cross through Maple street.

It took him nearly two hours longer to get home, but he liked the longer route.
But no one ever asked any question about it.
Not even Johnson, his closest friend.
“There is a shorter road, you know.”
Whenever Samuel looked, he smiled.
"I know."

After that he would just keep on going.
One rainy night, all traffic came to a standstill.
The highway was blocked with an overturned truck.
All cars were diverted by police.
Boldly written was a sign... DETOUR → MAPLE STREET.
Samuel's hands tightened firmly around the steering wheel.
"No..."
Johnson took a glance at him."You okay?"
"I'm fine.", but He wasn't.

Things hadn't changed much on the street.
The old pavement was still slanted against the mango tree.
There was a little grocery store at the corner, too.
Kids continued to run around playing football between the houses.
Then Samuel saw it.
House Number Twelve.
He was almost suffocated.

That house had previously been Deborah's 15 years ago.
His fiancée.
They had an awful fight 3 months before getting married.
It didn't have to do with betrayal.
Or money.
Or family.
It was a different size.
Pride.
Both were unwilling to apologize.
Deborah was due to call and Samuel waited for her.
Deborah had to wait and hope that Samuel would come.
It never happened.

Weeks later she took a teaching position in another state.
After all this time, Samuel learned she had remarried to another man.

After that day, Maple Street was no longer a part of his life.
Or rather...
he disappeared from it.

Have you been here before?
Samuel nodded.
My life used to be here.
While Johnson was still trying to reach the ground, the front gate opened.

An old woman went outside.
She gazed at Samuel.
Then smiled.
"You came back."
Samuel blinked.
"Aunty Grace?"
She laughed.
“If I saw you anywhere in the world, I'd know you.”
She went to invite them in.
The house seemed smaller than what he remembered.
But the memories...
They remained all the rooms.
These two men were speaking for over an hour.
Finally, Samuel asked the question he had been carrying for 15 years before he departed.
"How is Deborah?"
“Mmmm, aunty Grace said, softly.
She died four years back.
The room was suddenly very quiet.
"I didnt know." He spoke softly..
"She left something."
She went into another room and then returned returned with a small envelope and handed it to him.
"It has your name on it."
It was opened by Samuel with trembling hands.
There was a letter inside.
Samuel,
In the event that you come back here in life, I hope you've taken the opportunity to forgive yourself.
A long time ago, I forgave you.
Well, I was going to call you that night.
Pride stopped me.
Hopefully, it hasn't taken the place of living.
It was all the only thing.
Right below it, in one sentence.
From now on, the shorter road.
On the way home, both men were silent.

At the familiar junction Johnson automatically indicated the normal long path.
Samuel smiled.
"No."
He turned his steering wheel.
"The shorter road."
Sometimes life doesn't send us on a detour to change our destination.
Sometimes...

It reminds us of going back to fetch the peace that we have left behind.
Not all walks are to seek newness.
Some are about the long overdue release of what has been biding its time since years.

_{Image Credit: Chatgpt}