Chapter 25
Jack still wouldn’t converse with me when I tiptoed out of the house that evening.
He had been up watching television in the living room when I crept downstairs.
At first, I thought maybe he would wave me down and ask me where I thought I was going.
Or he would give me a reproachful look that would send me scurrying back up the stairs to my room.
Instead, he glanced over from the T.V. at the sound of my footsteps in the kitchen, considered me for a moment, then turned his sleepy eyes back to the television.
“Auggie’s going to show me his art installation at the barn,” I said.
Jack turned to give me a nod to acknowledge he had heard me, but then went right back to watching T.V.
Apparently, my whereabouts in the middle of the night were of no concern to him.
Of course, we were in Possibly, Texas. What kind of actual trouble could I get into in the middle of nowhere in Texas?
Then again, it reminded me of being on the road with my mom.
She had shows to chase, Jack had T.V. to watch.
There wasn’t enough concern left over for me.
“All right,” I said. “I’ll see you later.”
Jack waved at me over his shoulder.
That was it then. Jack wasn’t concerned that I was about to walk out the front door into the dark night of Possibly, Texas and stroll over to Auggie’s barn.
It wasn’t far, and we were in a safe town, but it wasn’t like Possibly was known for its street lights.
The only light I’d have for my walk across town was whatever light the full moon provided.
Maybe my cellphone flashlight since it wasn’t good for much else out in the middle of nowhere. Reception remained spotty at best.
“Thank God I’m not on my way to school,” I said with my hand on the doorknob. “Most child abductions happen on the way to school.”
Jack’s head turned slowly to shoot me a look that conveyed everything he thought of my mental health.
“But I’ll be fine, I’m sure. No reason to worry.”
Jack rolled his eyes and smiled, then waved me off again.
Okay. So, maybe he cared a little, but apparently, he still didn’t think there was anything to be concerned about when it came to me walking to Auggie’s in the middle of the night.
“See you at breakfast, I guess,” I said.
Then I was out the door and jogging down the steps.
Possibly was warm during the day, as one would expect of Texas in summer, but at night it was pleasant.
Maybe even a little cool. I had to believe that Susurrus Creek, and whatever body of water it was fed by, carried the breeze into town.
Since the creek never seemed to drop by even an inch, and it was summertime, it had to be fed by a larger body of water.
Probably somewhere further south since the water flowed north.
Just as expected, and as I’d observed from my dormer window for dozens of nights, Possibly was pitch black in the middle of the night.
All of the businesses downtown shut off all of their lights once the business day was over and their doors were locked.
Not that their lights would have illuminated the area by Jack’s place much.
I would have had to walk in near darkness at least until I got further away from Jack’s place anyway.
On the road with Mom over the years, I’d walked in a million different towns at night.
Even all alone. Mom wasn’t exactly a helicopter parent, to say the least. Some of the places were relatively small—not Possibly small—but small.
Other places, like Nashville, Memphis, and New Orleans were enormous compared to Possibly.
Even though those places were usually well lit and had dense foot traffic well into the night, they weren’t safer than Possibly.
Walking in New Orleans at night alone was much more dangerous than laying in the middle of the road in Possibly at night.
But nighttime in Possibly, unless I was in my room, staring out of the dormer window, gave me the chills.
It wasn’t that I expected Wyatt to jump out from behind a headstone in the graveyard and demand my money—of which I had none.
It was just that I’d never been in a town that seemed to be as alive as Possibly at night.
It had…a feeling. Once its residents turned in for the night, the town itself was allowed to breathe. And breathe it did.
Headstones. Graveyard.
As I approached Bend of the Road Graveyard on my way to the barn, my heart seemed to start its own little stroll within my chest. I eyed the small cemetery warily as I walked down the center of the road.
Even though the day had not been exceptionally hot or humid, and the night was simply cool, not cold, a mist or fog seemed to cling to the grounds and gather around the headstones.
There’s always something about gravestones and fog.
Continuing to walk along the road, though at a much more cautious pace, I psyched myself out. A vision of the lady in her hooded black cloak stepping out from under a tree sent a chill up my spine. Before I could talk myself out of being ridiculous, I cut to the right and dashed for Liberty Lane.
I wanted to put AMOR, and the other businesses that lined the road, between the graveyard and me. Once I got close to the creek, I’d cut back north towards Auggie’s barn.
Sure, taking a longer route, especially at night in the dark, was a stupid idea.
However, if I had seen the lady in her cloak—Malia?
—I would’ve dashed right back to Jack’s house.
Texting Auggie to say I was too frightened to take a two-minute walk to his barn at night would have killed me.
Not just that it would have been embarrassing, but because I desperately wanted to see his art.
Bend of the Road Graveyard would not keep me from seeing Auggie’s homemade observatory.
Luckily, on Liberty Lane, I didn’t encounter Wyatt and his gun, Malia in her cloak, or any other Possibilians who were more than a little weird.
Levi Lee in his green-screen suit or Agnes Boudreaux in her wheelchair would have been fine.
A little weird is okay. “Slightly off” is not the same as creepy.
Fortunately, by the time I reached the end of Liberty Lane, with the creek straight ahead, I was still alone.
I cut a left and made my way north along the edge of the creek.
The breeze blew along the creek, rustling my hair.
Somewhere, further south, a low whistle, almost like a moan caught the breeze and drifted towards me. I didn’t turn around.
The last few yards to Auggie’s barn were quick.
Because I ran. The low moan-like whistle—like someone blowing into the mouth of a jug—followed me the entire way.
By the time I was throwing open the green doors of Auggie’s barn, my heart was thundering.
However, when I entered the barn and Auggie looked up expectantly from his worktable to grin at me, all was forgotten.
My heart decided it didn’t need to win a marathon anymore.
I smiled back at Auggie.
“I’m here,” I said stupidly.
“I see that.”
“Am I late?”
Auggie glanced up at the skylight—not a clock or a cellphone—and then looked back at me.
“You’re here at the perfect time,” he said. “You ready to see some stars?”
I don’t know why, but when Auggie said that, it sent a shiver up my spine. Not like the shivers and gooseflesh that ravaged my body on the way over from Jack’s place. It was something different.
“Uh, explain how this works again?” I asked. “There’s a timer?”
Auggie’s eyes lit up and he excitedly skipped over to the silo.
Knowing that was a cue, I closed the barn doors and shuffled over to join him.
I watched as Auggie fiddled around gleefully, tweaking this, moving that—none of the levers and buttons he was pushing looked like they actually did anything.
But I always felt that if a light didn’t come on or some machine didn’t start doing something when a button was pushed, it had no actual function. What did I know?
“Okay,” he said, obviously satisfied with what he’d done, “this lever here is what starts the whole thing.”
Auggie grabbed the lever jutting out of the slot in the side of the silo.
“Okay?”
“When I pull it, we have ten minutes to make our way through the ducts to the center of the silo, and—”
“Seems easy enough.”
Auggie grinned wickedly.
“You’d think, yeah. But some lead to dead ends. Some twist back around on themselves. Some crisscross…only one path, the right combination of turns, will get you to the center and into the silo.”
“Um—”
“And there’s a lever inside you have to pull,” he continued.
“Once you pull it, the timer is shut off, the lights go out, and the skylight won’t close.
Then you can lay back and enjoy the stars.
If you get there too late, the timer is rigged to shut the skylight and the lights stay on, and…
you’re shit out of luck, my friend. No stars for you. ”
“No stars for me,” I said, sad at the thought.
“But don’t worry. There’s a hatch on the side of the silo if you do get to the center. You don’t have to find your way back out through the maze,” he said. “And if you get well and truly lost in the maze, I have no problem cutting you out.”
Auggie bounced around excitedly.
“Have you tested it?” I asked.
“Dozens of times.”
“Have you learned the right path and beat the timer yet?”
He sighed. “Not yet.”
“Then I’m screwed,” I said with a laugh. “This is your creation.”
He shrugged. “Who knows? You not knowing anything about it might be to your advantage.”
“True,” I said. “So, whoever gets to the middle first pulls the lever and waits for the other?”
“Hm.” He was frowning. “I think whoever gets there first should wait. It’s more satisfying, getting to see the stars, if we both get there in under ten minutes.”
I swallowed. “Yeah. That seems fair.”
“Sweet!” Auggie jammed a fist in the air triumphantly.