Chapter 13 #2
Against my will, I found my feet shuffling towards The Pueblo, drawing me closer to the boy in the doorway.
Moments later, I found myself standing behind the kid, close enough that I could reach out and tap him on the shoulder if I wanted.
Either he hadn’t noticed me move up behind him or he just hadn’t cared.
Or maybe he thought I was about go into The Pueblo and just hadn’t paid me any mind because of it.
Regardless, I stood there and stared at the back of him as he stared into the building.
I hadn’t even bothered to look inside the building to see what it was that had drawn his laser-like focus.
Suddenly, it dawned on me that I had been calling everyone in Possibly a “weirdo” and I was being the weirdest of them all.
“Hey.” I heard my voice but hadn’t remembered willing myself to speak.
The boy jerked slightly at my sudden intrusion. Then, finally realizing that I was speaking to him, he turned his head to look over his shoulder at me.
“What are you doing?” I asked. “Uh, I mean, what are you looking at?”
The boy blinked slowly, as though he had to adjust his focus from what he had been looking at to this person who was nosily asking him about his business.
“What?” He shook his head as if clearing away thoughts. “Uh, what?”
His voice was melodic, yet deeper than I had expected. Maybe his outfits made me think his voice would be higher or child-like. But he had the voice of a grown man, regardless of his fashion sense.
“Uh,” I said, “what are you looking at? In The Pueblo?”
Again, the boy was blinking at me, as though coming out of some stupor.
Oh, great. This guy is going to be the weirdest of everyone here. I thought. Why should I have expected anything else? Look at the way he dresses.
“Sorry.” He sputtered. “I was—they’re making anamorphic wire sculptures today. I—I was watching them. It’s fascinating.”
The two of us just stared at each other for a moment.
“I have no idea what that is,” I finally said.
The boy’s eyes lit up, and for a moment, I thought he was going to explain what exactly an anamorphic wire sculpture—or whatever—was, but a shadow crossed over his face and he stopped himself from looking so excited.
“Uh, just art stuff?” He shrugged.
“Oh.”
“Yeah.”
As we stood there, staring at each other again, I let my eyes wander up to the white diamond that looked like it had been stamped on the kid’s forehead and hair.
When my eyes wandered back to his, he was looking down at his feet.
No longer self-possessed, he looked anxious.
Obviously, he realized I was a stranger to Possibly, and he had no idea if I was going to be rude to him.
“I’m, uh, Jordan.” I reached out with my hand. “Jordan Burke. I’m, uh, Jack Burke’s stepson? I’m kind of staying with him. For now.”
The kid wiped his hand on the thigh of his jeans, then reached out and gently took my hand. He shook it firmly, though I could tell he was still unsure about me.
“Auguste. Anderson,” he answered shyly. “Nice to meet you.”
“Yeah. Same.” I nodded as our hands slid away.
Suddenly, the kid’s last name clicked in my head.
“Anderson?” I asked. “Are you one of the Anderson’s who lives in the big red barn down by the creek?”
The boy nervously met my eyes, as though unsure of whether or not he should tell a stranger in town where he actually lived.
“Um,” his eyes flittered around, “yeah.”
“Sorry,” I said. “That was weird. It’s just, I’ve seen your, uh, lights? My bedroom window is pointed in that direction. Jack, uh, told me Auguste Anderson lived there.”
“Oh.” That seemed to soothe the kid’s nerves.
“Yeah.”
Again, we were standing in silence, our eyes looking at anything but each other.
“So,” I said, “uh, have you always lived here?”
“Yeah.”
“That’s cool.” I nodded slowly. “I’m, uh, from everywhere, I guess?”
I chuckled lightly, hoping that the small joke might break the ice. I really wanted to ask the kid everything about himself—anything to have someone to talk to who seemed relatively normal—but I could tell that would just scare him off.
“Oh.”
“Yeah.”
We were getting nowhere fast. I was almost tempted to say ‘well, nice meeting you,’ and then walk away, but I really had nothing else to do with my time.
There were only two more streets in downtown possibly to check out and that would take less than ten minutes.
I knew for a fact that those ten minutes would be uneventful.
Unless Wyatt actually hit something with one of his bullets.
“Um,” I forced myself to continue the conversation, “there’s not really a lot to do here, huh? I’ve been here less than a week and I think I’ve seen everything in this town.”
This brought a small smile to the kid’s face, though his eyes still refused to look up at me.
“The coffee at Starbuck’s is kind of good,” I said. “I didn’t know there was a Starbuck’s that wasn’t, like, part of the big chain of coffee shops.”
The kid’s smile grew and I could tell he was this close to looking up at me.
“Levi Lee is a nice guy,” I added.