Chapter 39 #2
There was no way that lightning could last for as long as the storm managed, but like most things in Possibly, it defied logic. Lightning continued to shoot veins through the clouds overhead as another crackle of thunder hissed across the sky.
Where was the rain?
A thundering boom emanated from the sky, making me jerk and duck down, as though I could hide from the menace above me. The sudden boom nearly knocked me from my feet from the surprise. Tiny Tim’s falsetto and ukulele struggled to be heard over the threatening storm.
Just as the thunder tapered off, and the howling wind whipped itself up into a fury, my hair dancing on my head like a whirlwind, the back door of The Pueblo burst open.
My head whipped around to see what had caused the sudden movement on the otherwise still street.
Had the wind blown the door off of its hinges?
Lilly marched out the backdoor of The Pueblo, a look of fury on her red face.
Clad in her ever-present bib overalls and long-sleeved shirt, her boots stomping at the ground, she marched from the backdoor of The Pueblo and across the grassy patch behind it.
She stomped across the tram tracks and into the center of Liberty Lane, her hands balled into fists at her side.
Lightning lit the street like a dance club as Lilly hollered with fury.
“AMOS!”
I shivered again as I stood at the end of the street, watching her glare at the front of AMOR and scream for its proprietor.
Students who had been at The Pueblo—including Auggie—were gathering at the backdoor, huddling in a group, anxiously watching Lilly stand in the middle of Liberty Lane and scream.
Glancing to my right, Agnes was wheeling herself out of the front of Blooms to try and see what was going.
When would her damn leg heal?
Lilly had screamed so loud even Agnes had heard her.
Starbuck and Levi Lee had stepped out the coffee shop and had rounded the building to watch the scene.
Even Molly and Sofia were sneaking over from their respective places of work to find out what all the fuss was about.
Lilly had the lungs to draw a crowd, and a crowd had heeded the call.
Another crack of thunder and prickle of lightning and the front door of AMOR opened.
Amos stepped out onto the sidewalk; a mile-wide smile plastered on his face.
Lilly’s arms shook at her sides, and before Amos could cross the width of the sidewalk to step out into the street, another holler ripped through town.
“STOP PLAYING THOSE DAMN SONGS!” Lilly demanded, fury pouring off of her. The wind howled down the street, people’s hair rustling and the fabric of their shirts and pants whipping around like flags. “I’M A LESBIAN AMOS! I AIN’T NEVER GONNA LOVE YOU LIKE THAT!”
A murmur—that wasn’t the breeze for once—rippled through town and my mouth turned into an “O” as I stared at the scene unfolding before me.
“Stop all your damn nonsense and give it up, man!” Lilly hollered with finality.
When I whipped my head to the side to look at Amos, he was crestfallen, his chin nearly on his chest as he looked down at the sidewalk.
Lilly had begun marching back towards The Pueblo when I looked back in her direction.
She stomped over the tram tracks, across the grassy patch behind The Pueblo, and barreled through her students, back inside.
When I looked back over at AMOR, Amos was nowhere to be seen, but the front door of the radio station was closed once more.
Exchanging a few glances with the art students—even Auggie—and the other Possibilians who had come out to observe the show, I was unsure of what to do. Auggie had even frowned at me and raised his shoulders, confused as I was as to what was happening.
But we had all finally figured out why Amos operated the radio station in the way that he did.
Collectively, all of us remaining observers remembered the storm brewing overhead.
Agnes wheeled herself back into Blooms quickly.
Molly and Sofia jogged for cover, Starbuck and Levi Lee were headed back around the pirate ship, and Lilly’s students were shuffling back inside, closing the backdoor to The Pueblo behind him.
My heart went out to Amos as though I had been rejected right along with him.
To have someone you’re enamored with so deeply that you start a radio station to play songs dedicated to them every day reject you—so absolutely—had to tear a person apart.
As an observer it was painful enough. I couldn’t even imagine how Amos felt.
Was Lilly Shirlene?
Had Amos been the anonymous letter sender?
If the letters stopped…would that be my answer?
Was everyone else in town thinking the same thing?
Without another thought, I took off in a run towards Starbuck’s as another crackle of thunder sounded and a streak of lightning shot through the sky. Off in the distance, down by Grandy’s, Wyatt’s gun sounded. Tiny Tim’s falsetto and ukulele disappeared as every speaker in town went quiet.
The rain didn’t come; the clouds didn’t disperse.
For the first two hours of my shift at Starbuck’s, I swept and mopped the floors.
I scrubbed the tables and chairs and wiped down the walls and countertops.
Thunder continued to rumble overhead, shaking the ship’s walls as Levi Lee and Starbuck did their best to keep busy, though customers were nonexistent.
Every few minutes, lightning lit up the porthole windows like demonic eyes before letting them go dark once again.
The wind howled angrily against the walls of the ship.
As we sauntered into our third, silent hour at Starbuck’s, the three of us ended up sitting at one of the unused tables, not speaking.
Starbuck was switching his eyepatch back and forth, trying to decide which eye it felt best on.
To my amusement, though not shock, it occurred to me that Starbuck’s eyepatch was for aesthetics and not utility. Another Possibilian oddity.
Levi Lee sat quietly in thought, obviously contemplating his next artistic endeavor.
I found myself wondering if I shouldn’t have brought a book to work for once.
At least it would have given me something to do.
I contemplated asking Starbuck if he wanted me to go home for the day to save on my pay, but figured he was the boss and would have thought of that already.
If he wanted me to go home, he’d say so.
Within minutes of sitting in quiet contemplation with the two men, I thought I’d go insane.
Between our communal silence and the ominous thunder and lightning and howling wind that refused to produce any rain, I was coiling up tightly like a spring.
As Possibly was prone to, we weren’t left to our boredom for long.
Another scream ripped through town. So loudly that we could hear it inside Starbuck’s, the three of us jerked in our seats at the sudden noise which was not thunder.
Exchanging glances, it was obvious that none of us had actually caught what the person outside was screaming—nor did any of us have a clue why someone would be screaming.
As a group, we rose from our seats and headed to the front door.
I led the way through the glass door out onto the patch of grass in front of the pirate ship.
Levi Lee came up to stand beside me and Starbuck flanked my other side.
Thunder boomed and lightning flashed once again as the wind screamed through town.
“LILLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLY!”
The three of us whipped our head towards the source of the noise by Susurrus Creek.
Immediately, my eyes landed on Lovelorn Pass Bridge.
Wyatt’s gun sounded off in the direction of The Pueblo. I didn’t bother to look—I only had eyes for one person.
Though several people were gathering in clusters in the area of Possibly around the creek by Lovelorn Pass Bridge, my eyes stayed on Amos.
Not just because he was standing alone, but because he had climbed up onto the railing of the bridge.
His arms were held out wide and he was wailing Lilly’s name up to the heavens.
Thunder competed with his screams and lightning flashed like a strobe as he screamed pitifully.
Don’t jump. I felt tears at the corners of my eyes.
It wasn’t just that I felt horrible for what Amos had just been made to endure publicly, but also it was that jumping into Susurrus Creek during a lightning storm had to be one of the most dangerous things one could do in town.
What if Amos jumped into the water, simply to get over his obsession, and then lightning struck the creek?
A simple, yet heartbreaking, rejection could easily turn into utter tragedy in a split second.
Whipping my head around to search the crowd, I quickly determined that Lilly was not amongst the crowd watching Amos’ display. She had probably stayed at The Pueblo, resolute in her decision to reject Amos so callously.
Not that I could blame her; she was obviously a lesbian.
Amos just wasn’t ever going to make her happy.
Her methods had been the issue.