So, Auggie c
The bank of Susurrus Creek was like a cliff, both on the Possibly side and on the Two-Mile Trail side.
A person could sit at its edge and dangle their feet over the side without touching the water.
That’s what Auggie and I did after the crowd disbursed once the fireworks were over.
The lights in the town behind us were blinking out as we sat near Lovelorn Pass Bridge on the Possibly side, lazily swinging our feet over the water.
Even in the near dark, I could tell that the opening to Two-Mile Trail was becoming more overgrown as the days ticked by. It produced an odd feeling in my gut I couldn’t quite understand. Auggie had said it would sort itself out, so I did my best to ignore the odd feeling.
Susurrus Creek never flowed like roaring rapids, but sometimes it drifted by peacefully like a lazy river, and at other times, it whisked by like a hummingbird in flight.
I theorized that the breeze and weather, along with how full the body of water that fed it was, had a lot to do with it.
After the fireworks, it was in lazy river mode.
Creeping by lethargically a few yards below the soles of our shoes, Susurrus Creek whispered softly as we stared up at the pinpricked velvet above us.
“Wyatt and Grandy put on a better display every year,” Auggie said, breaking the silence we’d sat in for half an hour. “I time them every year. Well, kind of. Just in my head. I don’t have a stopwatch or anything, but this year they went five minutes longer.”
“Not to sound rude, but I’m just glad they didn’t hurt themselves,” I said with a chuckle. “They seem like they…would do that.”
Auggie chuckled.
“There’s a big difference between who we are and what we do,” he said. “What we’ve done and what we’re capable of doing.”
“You’re so cryptic.” I smiled and looked down at my feet.
I didn’t want to look at Auggie. Seeing that diamond shining bright in the dark was a bad idea.
“I’m not,” he said. “You just don’t listen.”
He nudged me in the side with his elbow playfully.
“So,” Auggie continued, “I have a theory.”
I forced myself to look at him, but made sure to focus on his eyes.
“Yeah?”
“The letters to Shirlene actually arrive in an envelope, addressed to Shirlene. With an address and everything. But maybe it’s, like, some crazy address that doesn’t exist,” Auggie said.
“So, since she knows they’re undeliverable, Sofia opens them and posts them on the wall.
May as well get some excitement out of it, right? ”
“Sure, yeah,” I shrugged, suddenly not so distracted by Auggie’s poliosis mark, “that’s a solid theory.”
“You got a better one?”
“I’m leaning towards Sofia, too,” I said. “But I think she’s actually writing them. If not her, my next guess is Grandy. They’re kind of poetic, right? He’s a philosophy guy. That might check out.”
Auggie reached up to rub his chin.
“That might be,” he said. “Both seem possible.”
“It’d be really wild if it was like, Wyatt or Agnes, though. They’d be my least likely suspects.”
“What about Jack?”
“Jack?” I gasped. “I would never suspect him.”
“No, I mean, wouldn’t he be one of the least likely and that’s why it would be shocking?”
“Oh, yeah,” I said. “It’s not Jack’s style. I don’t think. He’s not really clear with his feelings. Then again, that probably means he’s less likely to write love letters to some mysterious woman.”
“Agreed.”
“Even if he did, I don’t think he’d show anyone,” I added.
“Concur once again,” Auggie said with a chuckle.
The two of us swung our legs lazily over the creek and looked down at our shoes, having no further theories to share about the Shirlene letters.
I thought to ask Auggie about when we’d try his installation art maze again, but something told me he’d invite me when he was ready.
Pushing for an invitation would not be unwelcome, but maybe not polite.
Susurrus Creek drifted by as the Possibilian breeze whispered along the back of my neck, tickling the hairs there with its cool breath.
Even with the nearly full moon—waning as it was—shining down above us, the town was cast in blue and black shadows.
With Auggie by my side, I didn’t feel as nervous as I had when I’d walked to his barn alone.
Companionship makes darkness more tolerable.
Though we had nowhere to be and Jack wouldn’t be worried about me, I knew that we’d both eventually have to go home.
I didn’t know what to say to Auggie, but I didn’t want the night to end.
It had been a perfect day. Auggie’s parents would probably worry about him if he stayed out too late.
Then again, I’d never laid eyes on Auggie’s parents. I had no idea how they’d feel.
Why had I never met Auggie’s parents?
Just as the thought entered my head, the breeze shifted direction violently, sending a gust down Susurrus Creek, causing my hair to fall into my eyes.
A chill ran up my spine as I reached up to swipe my forehead clear.
As I cleared my eyes of my hair, a low, hollow whistling sound echoed down Susurrus Creek from the north.
Another chill ran up my spine. Without willing it, I reached over and grabbed Auggie’s forearm.
He didn’t even flinch. Instead, he chuckled at my surprise.
“You know,” Auggie said calmly as the whistling sound tapered off as if being sucked back up river, “Susurrus Creek has always been incredibly haunted.”
Though having Auggie with me while by the creek at night, him saying such a thing still unnerved me.
“Wh-what?”
“The whole town, really,” Auggie patted my hand that was still on his forearm reassuringly. “They say that anyway. The whole town is crazy haunted.”
“Who says?” I gulped.
He shrugged. “Everyone? I guess?”
“Stop it,” I said, managing a nervous chuckle.
“I’m serious,” Auggie playfully nudged me again. “Like, the spirits of miners and settlers and maybe indigenous people or something? They all haunt the town.”
I wanted to ask Auggie why he wasn’t scared, too, but that would force me to admit that my shivering wasn’t from the breeze but from what he was saying.
“You sure it’s not Malia doing performance art?” I teased, though my spine still felt like icy fingers were trailing up its length.
Auggie laughed. “Don’t believe me. It doesn’t matter. But this town is haunted. So they say.”
“Bullshit,” I squeaked.
My statement was meant to sound confident. I had sounded petulant.
“Why wouldn’t it be?” Auggie asked, turning and propping one knee up on the bank to smile at me. “With its history, there’s no way it couldn’t be haunted.”
“Bullshit,” I repeated, managing a sing-song voice this time.
Auggie laughed loudly.
I smiled, pleased I had amused him.
“I’ll prove it to you,” he said.
“How will…how will you do that?”
Nervously, I chewed at the inside of my cheek, my eyes darting around to see if Auggie was going to summon a spirit out of thin air. It was a ridiculous thought, but Possibly, though wonderful, was a ridiculous town.
“Well,” Auggie said, leaning in conspiratorially, “there’s an old legend around here.”
“I’m listening.”
“They say that if you walk around the perimeter of downtown Possibly thirteen times—backwards—then visit Bend of the Road Graveyard at midnight, you’ll see at least one of the spirits,” he whispered wickedly.
“You never know which ghost will appear to you, but they’ll appear.
Then you know for certain that Possibly is haunted. ”
I stared at him.
“You’re making that up. Right now. You pulled that out of your ass.”
Again, Auggie was laughing. “On my life.”
“Fine,” I nudged him. “Have you done it before?”
He shrugged. “No. I never had a reason.”
“Right,” I said. “Because you know it’s a lie you just made up.”
“If I was lying about that, why would I say I haven’t done it?” he asked. “I would have said I’d done it and saw a ghost to make the lie more plausible.”
I thought about that.
“I wouldn’t have believed that either.”
“Because you don’t believe in anything.”
The gooseflesh on my neck proved that somewhere, deep down, I believed in…something. I didn’t tell Auggie that.
“Okay, ye of little faith,” Auggie stated haughtily. “Let’s do it.”
“Do what?”
He rolled his eyes playfully.
“Tomorrow,” he said. “After your sign language lesson. You. Me. We’re going to walk backwards around Possibly thirteen times. At midnight, we’ll go to the graveyard and watch.”
“Then what?”
“Either a ghost will show up and you can eat your words, or nothing will happen and I will have to concede that maybe it’s not true.”
“It’s a lie, you mean.”
“It may be a lie, but not mine,” Auggie said. “I’m just repeating what I’ve heard. So, if it’s a lie, it’s not my fault. I’m just a gossip, not a liar.”
I managed to laugh, forgetting, for a second, that we were considering looking for ghosts.
“Um…”
The thought of spending more time with Auggie after my sign language lesson was a pleasing thought.
Doing something that might prove Possibly was an incredibly haunted town was not.
What would I do if we proved the town was haunted now that I had mentally conceded that it was my new hometown?
I couldn’t just run back out of town on Two-Mile Trail.
What would I do then? Mom wouldn’t be waiting to whisk me away from the oogey-boogeys.
“Are you scared?” Auggie wiggled his eyebrows at me.
“Yes.”
Why I had chosen to tell the truth, I had no idea. It had simply slipped out.
“Oh,” Auggie winced and looked down. “Sorry, Jordan. I didn’t—”
“We’ll do it,” I said, stopping him. “I’m scared. But I’ll do it.”
Auggie looked up hesitantly, a small smile on his lips.
“You sure?”
“Yes,” I said. “And then we’ll see you are a gossip. And you will owe me two milkshakes from Samuel’s.”
“Two milkshakes?” Auggie gasped dramatically.
“Yep,” I said. “To make up for being a gossip. It’s your penance.”
“What do I get if we see ghosts?”
“Um,” my eyes darted around, “what do you want?”
Auggie grinned wickedly, which made my stomach do flip-flops.
“You have to work harder to find your art,” he said.
It wasn’t what I’d expected to come out of his mouth, but it wasn’t unfair.
“Deal,” I said.
Auggie held out his hand and I hesitantly took it, giving it a firm shake.
Ten minutes later, I was walking up the steps of Jack’s place.
Though I was embarrassed by it, Auggie had walked me all the way to Jack’s from the creek.
He hadn’t asked if I wanted him to, he had just taken it upon himself.
Once I was in the yard and headed to the front door, he’d said his “goodbye” and headed off towards the barn.
I was embarrassed to admit it, but Auggie walking me home had made me feel safe.
Inside, Jack was on the sofa, laid back, his eyes nearly shut. The T.V. was playing some old western film on low volume. When I opened the door, his eyes shot open and he sat up to look at me. I closed the door and stood there looking at him. After a moment, he signed “fun?”
“Yeah,” I said. “I had fun.”
Jack gave me the slightest of grins, then reached for the remote and shut off the T.V.
He stood and stretched, then indicated he was going to bed.
Then he signed “goodnight,” touching the tips of his fingers on his right hand to his chin, then held up his left arm across his chest and dipped the fingertips on his right hand over it like the sun setting.
“Goodnight,” I said.
I watched as Jack made his way through the living room and up the stairs, disappearing into the shadows of the dark second floor.
When he was gone, I smiled. He didn’t say, and he never would have—just as I never would have asked—but I sensed he had been waiting up for me.
Just to make sure I got home safely. Mom didn’t even do that. Jack waiting up had felt like…home.
After I’d stripped down to my boxers and was crawling into bed, I stole a glance out the window towards Auggie’s barn.
Lights were shining from the skylight. When I glanced at my cell phone screen, the hazy blue light casting my bed in a bubble of light, I saw that Auggie had one minute.
I put my phone on my bedside table and knelt there at the window, the moonlight making my chest look pale blue.
A minute later, I saw the lights slowly blink out.
They hadn’t shut off suddenly as though Auggie had stopped the timer in the center of the maze. The skylight had closed as though he had failed.
I didn’t want to be glad that he didn’t solve the maze without me, but nevertheless, I was. When Auggie finally beat the maze and got to use his observatory, I hoped I was with him.