Found, Not Lost

"Stop."
My quiet words cut through the chatter of my friends, as our driver braked to a stop.
I got out of the car.
I had no idea where we were.
It was some little town beyond the outskirts of the little towns outside the huge cities I'd grown up in.
"Mitch, what's up?" I raised my hand to silence Johnny.
"I don't know." I looked around, inhaling the scent of sunflowers and mown grass. I couldn't remember ever coming through this town. Yet, it felt so familiar.
"Mitch, we're going to be late."
"Our gig isn't til tomorrow Johnny, how can we be late?" I said, stepping further away from the car. How could this place be so familiar? I looked back over my shoulder. "Come on, I could use some fresh air, stretch out my legs." I was taller than all of them, more cramped too in our car. Fancy as it was, it still sucked leg room wise.
I didn't wait for a response as I headed towards the center of town. This was an itch I needed to satisfy. Badly. It felt like home. How could this place feel like home? I hated small towns. The cities were my home, I'd always felt more comfortable in the hustle and bustle. Small towns with their lack of...well all that, had seemed slow and dull. So why? Why did this place not bug me like all the other places did? It had all the same feel as the other slow and dull towns. Yet, it didn't.
"You couldn't have picked a more boring place to stop." Johnny complained, bumping into my side. "Trees, old houses, horses? You want to be a cowboy suddenly or something?"
"Come on Johnny, it's nothing, I just want to stretch my legs. Here is a bit better than an oil slicked gas station."
He raised an eyebrow. "Mmmhmmm."
"What?"
"Doesn't look like its nothing." He smirked. "You're looking around like you're looking for something."
I exhaled, shaking my head with a chuckle. "Alright," I couldn't really hide anything from Johnny. We'd been friends for years. "This place....it feels familiar."
"Familiar how?" Johnny asked gesturing around. "It's a farming town. We pass through hundreds of these places on our tours."
"I know, which makes this weird. I know this place."
"We've never been here before!"
"I know that too! Which is why I want to look around."
Johnny glanced at his watch. "Well...let's not take too long alright? No longer than an hour, Mitch. I want to be in a comfy hotel bed before midnight tonight."

*****

"Johnny." I hissed, gesturing him over.
"What?" He asked. "You finally ready to go?"
"No, look." I pointed to an old Missing Child poster. "Does that?"
"It looks like you." Johnny said, pulling the poster from the wall. "Your stupid gap toothed grin was unforgettable, until you got braces." He held the picture up next to my head, looking between the two of us. "Same eyes, same stupid curl to your hair behind your ears, same old smile before those braces."
"Only, I wasn't, I'm not missing."
Johnny shrugged, handing me the picture. "You're the one being crazy here, Mitch. Talking about this place feeling like home, this picture, you are the same age this missing boy would be, how you know where things are."
"I know. I know."
"I've known you since seventh grade..." He shrugged again. "That's a year after this boy went missing."
"But I wasn't missing! I'm not missing." I said under my breath.
"But you'd just moved to town with your folks when we became friends. You never really have mentioned where you lived before that." Johnny replied. "Look, you're acting freaky, this place has you acting freaky. You can choose to forget about it, and we can get to the hotel, or you can--"
"Stay and check it out." I finished for him. I held the picture. I'd held similar photos in my parent's house. I knew my face. And this looked like my face. How could I not want to check it out? I knew people had look-a-likes. But this was just weird on all accounts. "Let's go."

*****
The door opened, revealing a woman, I forgot to breathe, she looked so familiar. So very familiar. "Yes?" She asked searching my face, a slight frown on her lips, glancing to Johnny, then back to me. He voice sounded like the one I often heard in my dreams. The voice of the angel in my mind.
I exhaled, pulling myself together. "I'm sorry." I told her, offering a smile. "To disturb you, I'm looking for a Mrs. Symphs?"
She nodded, "That's me, but if you're selling anything I don't want it."
I pressed my hand against the door, to keep her from shutting it. "No! No, I'm not...I'm not selling anything Mrs. Symphs." I said speaking more quickly. "I was just passing through town, and...well, I saw this." I held up the missing child's poster.
She froze for the briefest of moments. "And?" She whispered.
"Well....it." I let go of the door to rub a hand through my hair. "It looks like I did....when I was younger...like my school photos." I spoke more quickly. "I don't know if I'm this boy, and I know I'm causing you pain. But I just had to...well, know...to see...I'm sorry. This is causing you pain isn't it?" She had gone as white as a sheet, frozen like a statue. I wasn't known for being the most tactical of people when speaking. And it looked like I'd just stuck my foot in my mouth, and driven a spike through an aching heart. I took a step back. "I'm sorry. Truly. I shouldn't have."
"Wait." She whispered. "Don't go." The door swung open as she stepped forward, reaching out to touch my face, cradling my cheek in her palm. I closed my eyes, this felt so familiar. Her hand so warm and comforting. I'd never felt this relaxed with someone else touching my face, not even my parents. How could this stranger make me feel so relaxed? So at home?

-Inspiration from seeing a commercial for a new show called 'The Family.'