Chapter 28
“Why didn’t you tell me that I was going to die?” I groaned as I rolled around in the grass.
“I had no idea you have no control over yourself,” Auggie said.
We were in our spot outside Starbuck’s, under the shade of the tree, laid out on the lush green grass. I was tempted to pull off my shirt so that I could feel the emerald carpet against the skin of my shoulders. It was cool against the backs of my legs, so it had to feel heavenly against my back.
The afternoon sun had strolled across the sky and was slinking away to the horizon as the breeze ruffled my hair and cooled my skin. The hand-size leaves of the tree cooled our spot further, making it feel more like spring than summer. But I was in misery.
After taking Jack his plate of food from the barbecue, I had run back to the downtown area, only to find Auggie waiting by the table full of plates and utensils, ready to feast. One quick trip down each side of the street, and we were seated beyond the tram tracks on Liberty Lane at one of the picnic tables that had been set up in the morning.
Along with Sofia, Jasper—forgoing his tram duties to eat—and Levi Lee, we ate until we could barely move.
Brisket, ribs, smoked sausage, even a hamburger apiece, along with macaroni salad, potato salad, corn on the cob, coleslaw, baked beans, and biscuits, were stuffed down our gullets.
Since it was all too much, we even partook in a slice of cake and ice cream that was available.
Two sodas apiece washed it all down. Over an afternoon, we ate enough calories to get a growing teenager through a week.
“I’m dying,” I groaned comically.
Auggie laughed at me and patted his extended stomach.
Even though most of the town’s residents were still on Liberty Lane, mingling and telling stories, watching the kids play with sparklers, Auggie and I had chosen to rest under the tree.
Red, green, and blue sparks flew up and down the street and children giggled, carefree and excited.
We were far enough away to feel separate from everyone else, but close enough to hear the talking and laughter drifting on the breeze.
My stomach may have been trying to split open, but the obvious joy exuded by the town’s residents made me grin.
Possibly was…alive. I’d never been to a place where the town’s residents all got along.
Where food was shared freely, and in such abundance, and no one fought or argued.
I’d never been to a town where the kids ran up and down the streets with fireworks and giggled in such a carefree manner.
No adults were yelling for the kids to “be careful.” Everyone had autonomy and the trust of others. Even the kids.
Jaded as I was by my time out in the world—well, the U.S., at least—I wanted to feel skeptical about everything. But Possibly was quite possibly the best place to be.
Sleepy and seemingly mundane, it had an energy that made me feel as if I was me…
but also part of something bigger. A community, maybe?
I could be me, but I could also belong. Everyone in Possibly had their own thing—their art, their business, their friends—but they also had each other.
Acceptance and passivity seemed to be two more mottos of my new hometown.
It wasn’t just a motto. It was a practice.
Possibilians bothered no one and expected the same in return.
And, for that luxury, they rewarded each other ten-fold.
Levi Lee could wear his green-screen suit that didn’t hide everything well enough, but he was welcome to eat five helpings of ribs at the Fourth of July BBQ.
Wyatt could walk around town, firing bullets into the air, but his help was warmly accepted at the grills.
Harm none and be unharmed in return. Be yourself but part of the community.
Maybe it was too simple, too reductive, but it was a good motto. It was a great practice.
Along with the sounds of the people celebrating on Liberty Lane, a new sound was delivered by the cool breeze.
Luckenbach, Texas by Waylon Jennings was playing on AMOR.
“What?” I sat up abruptly, propping myself up with my hands in the grass.
“Huh?” Auggie’s face screwed up.
“Amos changed the song!”
Auggie shrugged. The sun was setting in the west behind him, casting his face in darkness, unreadable, since the remaining sliver of sun blinded me.
“I told you he does that sometimes,” Auggie said. “Well, on special occasions. Tomorrow he’ll be back on his routine. He’ll probably get crazy again on Labor Day, Halloween, Thanksgiving, Christmas—”
“Why does he do that?” I interjected. “It’s…weird, right?”
Auggie smiled. He’d gotten used to forgiving my use of the word.
“I don’t know,” he said. “I think maybe it’s just easy? Or maybe he wakes up and feels a song is the ‘mood of the day’ and runs with it? It’s just the way he’s always been. And it’s not like anyone pays him to run the radio station, so who would any of us be to complain? We don’t have to listen.”
“Really?” I laughed. “There are speakers everywhere. You can’t escape it if you’re downtown.”
“They could be unplugged. Smashed,” Auggie said. “Someone could ask Amos to quit.”
“Well, sure.”
“But it’s kind of nice,” Auggie said. “He sets the mood for the town for the day. He wants us all to have theme music for the day.”
I thought about that.
“Yeah,” I said, finally. “It is.”
Auggie nodded along to the music, rubbing his stomach with a free hand.
Listening to Luckenbach, Texas, in Possibly, Texas, was perfection I didn’t know my life had been without until that moment.
I’d never really paid much attention to the song, nor did I ever consider it a “patriotic” song.
Even as I listened to it as I sat outside of Starbuck’s with Auggie, I still didn’t see it that way.
However, it captured the day and the town perfectly.
It was the perfect mood music. Amos had certainly perfected his own art.
“Hey,” I turned my head to Auggie again, blinking as the last sliver of sun stung my eyes.
When I reopened my eyes, the horizon was deeply red, the sun gone for the day.
“Yeah?” Auggie sighed happily.
“Do you think I actually have some talent?” I asked quickly. “Like, with art, I mean?”
“Of course. Everyone does. Why would you question that?”
I shrugged as the sky began darkening.
“Nothing seems to really take,” I said. “Okay. So, I’ve only tried painting so far, but it wasn’t great, and—”
“Life is art.”
“Huh?”
“You’ll figure it out,” Auggie said with finality. “I promise.”
I sighed, mildly frustrated, mostly amused, and fell back in the grass again.
“I’ll just choose to trust you.”
“You’re a wise man,” Auggie chuckled.
“When do the fireworks start?” I asked. “I might die from massive barbecue belly before if they don’t hurry.”
Auggie laughed uproariously.
“As soon as it gets dark enough,” he said. “So, soon, I think?”
“Do we need to go find a good seat to watch them?”
“Wyatt and Grandy shoot them off near Lovelorn Pass Bridge,” Auggie said. “We actually have the perfect spot. Unless you want to sit with everyone else.”
I darted my eyes to the side to look at Auggie. He was looking off towards the bridge expectantly.
“I like it here,” I said, letting my eyes close happily.
Staying under the tree in the lush grass was appealing for two reasons.
One, I wouldn’t have to move around and further upset my stomach.
Two, I didn’t want to share my friendship with Auggie with everyone else during the fireworks.
It felt odd to me. Made my stomach feel odd in a different way than all of the food I’d consumed. I didn’t question it.
So, we stayed under the tree. I lounged in the carpet of emeralds and Auggie sat back, propping himself up with his hands, contentedly sighing from time to time.
The light slowly disappeared, deepening the shadows, and I was finally able to turn my head and stare at the first real friend I’d ever had.
Auggie didn’t exactly ignore me, but he didn’t seem to notice my staring, even when he opened his eyes to check the light.
Vaguely aware of the voices of people moving closer to the creek in preparation for the fireworks display, I couldn’t focus on anything but Auggie.
Even as the shadows grew and enveloped us under our tree and the buildings around us turned navy blue and the stars began to peek out of the velvet above, I only had eyes for Auggie.
He stared off towards the creek, grinning joyfully as people shouted excitedly for the fireworks to begin.
When the first boom erupted and sparks flew through the sky, erupting in a shower of red, white, and blue, Auggie’s face was lit up by the burst of light.
His grin widened until all of his teeth showed as he stared up at the sky in awe.
I couldn’t help but smile at the appearance of the fireworks, though I wasn’t looking at the sky.
I was looking at the diamond I found so fascinating.
Each firework that burst in the sky cast its hue on the white diamond on Auggie’s head.
Yellow, green, red, blue, even purple, my friend was a kaleidoscope of color.
He cheered and hollered along with the people down by the creek, and I found myself sitting up to see him better.
Inch by inch, I felt myself scooting closer to him, wanting to be closer to his face.
Auggie turned to me and grinned widely. I was so focused on that diamond that his words were soundless. He said something excitedly, then turned his head back to stare up at the shower of colors in the sky.
For a moment, I nearly reached out to grab his face and turn it to look at me. To pull him close and do something I’d never considered doing to another human being in my life.
Instead, I shook my head to clear my thoughts, the sounds all around me rushing in like my ears had been drained of water. Then I turned my head to the sky and joined Auggie in smiling up at the ballet of sparks.