The sun filtered through the leaves as the ButterCreamers pedaled down the winding dirt path, laughter echoing behind them. Scott led the pack, his bike tires kicking up small clouds of dust as they raced past the old Miller barn. Eldon struggled to keep up, but his grin showed he didn’t mind falling behind. Lanny swerved around a pothole and shouted something that got lost in the wind. Pete, trailing quietly at the back, watched the others with a flicker of nostalgia in his eyes.

They veered off the main trail and pushed their bikes up the hill toward the big oak tree that shaded their beloved treehouse. Its weathered planks and hand-painted “ButterCream HQ” sign came into view, and a chorus of cheers rose from the boys. Margaret was already waiting at the base, holding a basket of snacks and rolling her eyes at their late arrival. “Took you long enough,” she teased, tossing an apple up to Scott. They dropped their bikes in the grass, legs aching but spirits high.

Inside the treehouse, sunlight spilled through the cracks in the walls, casting warm stripes across their faces. Pete ran a hand along the old wooden railing, memories flooding back as he climbed in. Eldon flopped onto a beanbag and immediately started digging through the snacks. Lanny pulled out a stack of hand-drawn maps from their secret drawer, eyes gleaming with adventure. For the first time in a while, things felt just like they used to—like they were truly home.