If the summer produce season was lively, the annual Hadley Harvest Festival was an all-out riot. Residents worked year-round perfecting their seasonal goods for the sprawling October event. Though it was Abbie’s favorite day of the year, it was always a hassle to Emmett, who preferred staying home to talking to customers. But Garber Farm’s booth showcased such an abundance of products that they both hoped it would be even more profitable than in previous years.
Ana and Abbie stayed up the evening before the fair hand painting a Garber Farm sign to hang over the booth. Ana drew the lettering and surrounded it in flourishes of orange zinnias and squash blossoms that Abbie punctuated with color. And though Emmett scoffed at the amount of time they were spending perfecting their creation, he couldn’t argue that the work wasn’t an improvement over last year’s booth.
As always, Garber Farm was awake early. Abbie, Ana, and Manny helped Emmett load both his and Manny’s trucks before the two of them went ahead with the bulk of the produce. In keeping with Abbie’s yearly tradition, she and Ana drove over to the Moons’ to help them with their load too, as well as to share in celebratory spiced doughnuts and mugs of cocoa.
“It’s going to be a long day,” Abbie warned. “Be prepared to get your ear talked off and your nerves stretched thin. We’re also going to have a heck of a good time.” She and Ana sat in the Moons’ dimly lit living room next to a crackling morning fire.
“I don’t know what is keeping that girl,” Della said, pulling a shawl over her shoulders. “I’m sending you in, Ana. I think you’ll have better luck than I will.”
Ana headed upstairs and knocked on Rye’s door.
“Wake up, sleepy,” she said.
“Kill me now,” she heard from the other side.
Ana opened the door and found Rye sitting on her bed, a blanket over her shoulders as if she had only just awakened.
“Rising from the dead?”
“I can’t even handle this morning. My dad is forcing me to wear what I can describe only as The Shining meets corporate rodeo.” Rye thrust her tiny hands through the blanket, tossing out something plaid and something denim, along with an apron advertising Moon Pharm General Store, complete with a yellow moon. She sat glaring at the pile, her damp hair slicked to the side.
“Can you believe this?” she croaked.
“Blasphemy,” Ana said. “Come downstairs and have a doughnut.”
Rye threw off the blanket and hopped off her bed. She headed to the mirror barefoot and dressed only in a tank top and boy shorts. “I could just go like this,” she said, scrutinizing herself in the mirror. “My nonexistent everything will only further the Ryan rumors.”
“Or you can put on the uniform and give it a Rye spin. Isn’t western always in?”
“Somewhere, not here, aka not on this person.” Ana shot Rye a look. “Fine. Should I accessorize with silver moon earrings or go full Pharm with my vintage Valley of the Dolls pin?”
“Moons all the way.”
• • •
Abbie’s excitement and Emmett’s moans predicted the Garber Farm booth at the Hadley Harvest Festival would be one of the big tickets. Ana still couldn’t believe the hordes of people swarming around their tented tables, eager hands grabbing pumpkins, jars of kumquat marmalade, as well as Abbie’s new butternut squash empanadas. Behind the counter, Abbie kept a batch of hard cider, along with her bottles of barley wine, reserved for those in the know who either preordered or knew to ask for them. Ana bagged produce while sometimes answering questions about everything grown on the farm, surprising herself with her own knowledge of in-season vegetables. She gave more than a few shout-outs to her coworkers in the fields and was delighted to meet Manny’s wife and two kids. Vic and Rolo stopped by, enjoying their day off, even bringing Joey, who said how much he missed the farm, along with them.
“Delicata, I presume?” Will Carson asked, catching Ana off guard as he was suddenly in front of her, inspecting the bounty of squash.
“Yep. We also have butternut, acorn, spaghetti squash, and kabocha, which is new to the farm this year.”
“Well, well, look who’s learning her Cucurbitas.”
“My what-what-itas?”
“Winter squash,” Will said, his once-longish hair newly shorn and oiled to the side, his beard trimmed and speckled with threads of gray. Where Ana once thought he looked like a lonely pirate, battered and brooding, today he resembled a forlorn sailor in his navy blue overcoat and dark jeans, every bit of him groomed and smelling of cedar and tobacco. “I’ve been trying to get the lovely lady’s attention, but she’s always occupied with other customers,” he said, looking over at Abbie, who had thrown a colorful scarf over her field jacket and jeans, her hair pulled up in a bun, her attention very deliberately focused on Ellery Jonas and Pearl Parnell, who were fawning over jars of marmalade.
“Is there something I can assist you with?”
“Don’t go fully professional on me, kid. I know what’s lurking under that tone. Barley wine and cider,” he said with a wink. “She’s been coy about sharing them with me, but I’ve heard she’s a true brewmaster.”
“I’m not allowed to touch those,” Ana said, even though the cases of bottles were directly under the table at her feet and Abbie had already sold several. “She’s been up every night perfecting them, so I’m sure they’re abnormally good, like everything else she makes.”
“Darling girl!” Ellery and Pearl sang as they scooted over to Ana and fussed over the swallow sweater and vintage jeans she had bought at their store.
“Isn’t she just the most fascinating creature?” Ellery said, laying a hand on Will’s forearm, her pillbox hat threatening to tumble into the mini pumpkins. “I just love how you’ve accessorized with that scarf in your hair. It’s functional yet chic.”
“Devastating, simply devastating,” Pearl chimed in from behind enormous glasses, one hand clutching an oversize turquoise necklace weighting down her blouse. “With that hair and such an arresting profile, you’re Klimt’s Portrait of a Young Woman!”
The ladies moved on to another booth. Will promised to come back later when “the lady” wasn’t so preoccupied. The day wore on and customer demand finally began to dissipate, so Abbie allowed Ana to help out at the Moon Pharm booth. On the way there, Ana wandered the grounds, breathing in the scents of cinnamon-dusted funnel cakes and smoked meats. Vendors were selling everything from home-baked pies to hand-loomed sweaters, and there were small crowds gathered around carnival games. Ana was drawn to the one booth sitting off by itself, constructed to look like a small house, the sign above it painted in whimsical lettering that spelled out THE HONEY POT. She approached and immediately recognized the proprietor, who sat in a rocking chair on the makeshift porch, hands holding on to the straps of his overalls while he stared off into the distance.
“Hello, Mr. Kinman,” Ana said.
“Squirrely! Good to see ya. Want a taste?” He dipped a small sample spoon into a jar of honey, which Ana immediately popped into her mouth, letting the honey coat her tongue before she swallowed.
“Heavenly—smooth and completely different from the last batch I tried. What flavor is it?”
“That’s a well-kept secret,” the man said. “Tell me, how’s tricks over in Garber country? Life unspooling in prosperous directions?”
“Yep. Working hard, trying to keep my grades up.”
“You’ve got so much swirling around in there,” he said with a swish of his hand, indicating her whole person. “Let go sometimes, don’t let it rule ya. I hear you’ve got a hell of a painterly hand. I’m assuming you’re the one who painted the sign over the farm’s booth?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Town needs more artists and sundry creative folk like that man from the city and his Crackin’.”
“You mean The Bracken?”
“That’s the one. Fine fellow. Town’s all up in shoulders thinking he’s going to take over the saloon, but he’s got his own thing going and is respectful to his neighbors. Yep, we need more outlaws in these parts. Place used to be full of ’em until gold and greed killed the grit and gumption. But I feel the tides changing.”
“How’s your bear?”
“Well, he’s not as spry as he used to be and has taken to wandering the forests with the owls, but he comes back to chat from time to time.”
“Tell him I said hi,” Ana said.
“Will do.”
She continued on to the Moons’ booth, which was laid out with teas and tinctures concocted by Rye’s parents as well as handwoven rugs, ceramics, and tribal art. Rye was hunkered down in the back of the booth staring into her phone, one leg nervously dangling over the other, when she saw Ana approach.
“Finally,” Rye said, pulling her apron off and throwing her fuzzy black sweater over the plaid shirt and jeans. “Let’s blow this joint.”
“Rye—” Charlie Moon said with a grim nod.
“Come on in, Ana,” Della interrupted, ushering Ana behind the booth.
“You win for booth beautification,” Ana said. “Hands-down favorite next to Alder Kinman’s honey.”
“Potty break,” Rye announced, causing her father to add a sigh to his nod. “We’re taking a fairgrounds walk, a pit stop, and then we’re going to check out the fireworks later, okay?”
“That’s fine,” Della said. “Just make sure you let Abbie and Emmett know where you are and be back right after the show.”
Rye and Ana made their way across the grounds, avoiding recognizable faces from school, most of whom eyed the twosome as if they were either something to mock or be wholly frightened of—Ana couldn’t tell. They stopped at the Lawson Dairy booth where Brady appeared to be holding court in an oversize suit, jabbering on to chuckling customers.
“Grade-A chocolate milk—best in town, folks!” he shouted.
“Looking good, little man,” said Rye as she and Ana sidled up to the counter.
“Where have you been?” Ana asked. “You haven’t had lunch with us in a week.”
“Taking care of business, as you can see. Oh, and I’ve been devoted to Hessie Wakefield. She’s tall for her age, but we’re both in FFA together.”
“Sounds scintillating,” Ana said.
“On the house, ladies,” Brady said, sliding over two small cups of chocolate milk before resuming his sales pitch to the constant crowd.
Ana and Rye continued to stroll with their milk, sipping and making fun of various members of the football team paying to arm wrestle a burly-looking logger. The sun dipped down behind the tree-covered hills, the air nipping at their rolled-up sleeves. They avoided Jim, Kelsey, and the rest of Cole’s group of friends, who were laughing over by the rides. Though Ana didn’t want Rye to notice, she kept her eye out for Cole.
“We need something stronger than milk,” Rye said, “especially for the fireworks. I figure we’ve got about an hour before we head up to the graveyard on the hill. It’s the best view in town.”
“What do you have in mind?”
“Oh, you know, maybe something to enhance the multicolored brilliance in the sky.”
“I’m not following . . .”
“Can be found in the forest? Sometimes you have them in soup?”
Ana continued to blink at Rye.
“They’re magically delicious?” Rye said before sighing. “’Shrooms. I know a couple of people who get them in the forest and sell them during the fair specifically for this purpose.”
“Oh,” Ana said. “Yeah, I can’t.”
“But they’re from the earth; it’s not like we’ll be dousing our tongues in acid or sticking needles in our arms or anything.”
Ana took a breath. “Sorry, not into it, have to say no.”
“For someone who’s spent time on the mean streets of an urban metropolis, I’m surprised you have no game when it comes to having fun sometimes. It’s so not a big deal. People at school have done them.”
“I can’t jeopardize my place here. They’d send me back if they found out. Plus, I don’t want to. But you’re more than welcome.”
“No buts, I get it. I’m going to the ladies. Do you need to?”
“I was going to head over to the food trucks,” Ana said, lying, hoping she’d run into Cole.
“Why don’t I meet you back at my parents’ booth? We can grab a bite on the way to getting our fireworks on. The best spot is all the way up that hill behind the church on the other side of Main. We’ll have to walk a ways, but it’s worth it for the view. I’ll stop and tell Abbie and Emmett you’re going with us before making my way back.”
Rye took off toward the restrooms behind Hadley High’s football field. Ana wandered back toward the carnival games, curious to check out the tarot card woman sitting cross-legged on a Persian rug in front of a sawed-off tree stump. There was a line, just like at every other booth, so Ana turned back around to return to the Moons’.
“Hey,” Cole said.
“Hey,” she answered, doing her best to act as though she weren’t happy to see him.
“How are you?” he said, doing the same.
“Fine. But then again, you see me in class every day.”
“And yet you still haven’t spoken to me since the last time we talked, so . . .”
“Turkey legs.”
“What?”
Ana told her brain to tell her mouth to stop making a fool of herself. “Are you in line for a turkey leg? Because the entire concept seems surreal to me.”
“I was just walking up to the graveyard,” he said, putting his hands in his jacket. “Where are you headed?”
“Same place, apparently. What a coincidence.”
“Indeed, you might say. But then again, the tarot lady probably just foretold this moment.”
They stood there catching eyes catching them standing in close proximity. Ana suddenly couldn’t remember if she was supposed to meet Rye back at the Garbers’ or the Moons’ booth or if they were meeting up on the hill. There were whispers shooting up around them.
“C’mon,” Ana said, grabbing his arm, surprising herself and Cole and everyone else pretending not to watch or listen.
They walked side by side through the crowd, weaving through the fair toward Main Street, dodging curious looks from students and townspeople alike. Cole grabbed her pinky finger, and she let him.
“Did you work today?” he asked.
“Yep,” she said, ignoring Alder Kinman’s thumbs-up as they passed. “I’m guessing you did not. Do you ever?”
“Well, racing is like a job, or used to be. I’m not really on the circuit this year. But to answer your question, yes, my family has a wine booth at the fair. My mom’s doing tastings from some new vineyard my dad bought.”
“Your dad bought a whole vineyard?”
“His second one. I’m pretty sure he bought it as a guilt gift for my mom. And she doesn’t care as long as it makes her more money. But, yes, I do have to work.”
“Is your dad helping out?”
“My dad helps out by staying away.”
They crossed through the carnival games area, bypassing a group of fellow classmates huddled around a table in front of the ice cream truck. Ana noticed Kelsey Weaver noticing them, her head dipping down behind a group of girls.
“I have an idea,” Cole said, grabbing her hand and leading her in the opposite direction. They dashed through a mass of people carrying plates full of fair food. He squeezed her hand and she squeezed back before they ducked behind Minerva Shaw’s booth, which was dripping in dangling butterfly paraphernalia.
“I can’t go in here,” Ana said.
“Why? She’s giving away free masks to the kids. Grab two and we’ll go incognito the rest of the way. I need to get something from our booth. Be right back.”
Ana peeked between booths and saw that the Brannans’ stand was just across the pathway. Nadine Brannan was pouring wine to multiple middle-aged sippers, her pencil skirt and heels still in place. Minerva’s table was busy too, with parents ushering their children in for last-minute face paint or butterfly masks.
Ana positioned herself at the corner of the booth, hoping to grab a few masks without Minerva noticing. But Minerva Shaw noticed everything.
“Well, hello, Ana Cortez. Or should I say, ‘Hola’?”
Ana forced herself to smile. “Hello, Mrs. Shaw.”
“Call me Minerva, dear. Are you enjoying the fair?”
“Immensely,” Ana said. She turned to look for Cole but didn’t see him.
“Well, I’m sure the Garbers are selling out of everything as usual, what with all of the local fans like that Will Carson. Tell me,” she said, taking a moment. “Did you happen to receive the little present I left for you on Abbie’s counter?”
“I did. It was a surprise, a good surprise.”
Ana didn’t want to seem rude, but she couldn’t help but remember what Minerva said to her that day at the mansion.
“I’m glad. It was not my intention to overreact, and certainly not to such a spirited young person new to town. I hope you can forgive my ignorance. I hope we can start over again.”
Minerva clapped her hands and grabbed the cheeks of a little boy whose mother she seemed to know.
“Lookee here, Charles Watson, this is Ana Cortez,” Minerva said, gesturing toward Ana as if she were part of a puppet show. “She comes all the way from Los Angeles. Isn’t that exciting? Her ancestors come all the way from the great land of Mexico. That’s pronounced ‘Meh-hee-co’ in Spanish. Can you say ‘Meh-hee-co’?”
The little boy laughed and pointed to the butterfly masks.
Ana grabbed one and handed it to him.
“Mariposa,” Ana said. “That’s ‘butterfly’ in Spanish.”
The little boy laughed and ran with the mask, his mother close behind.
“You’re certainly good with the little ones,” Minerva said.
“I’ve had a few foster siblings.”
Minerva gave her a warm smile, genuine and apologetic. “Looks like your friends are waiting for you,” she said. “My, my, is that Cole Brannan?”
Ana turned to see Cole and who she assumed was his younger sister approaching.
“Do you mind if I take a few masks, Mrs. Sh—Minerva?”
“Take what you need, dear.”
Ana grabbed them and met Cole halfway.
“Hey, this is my sister, Camille,” he said. “She wouldn’t let me walk away without meeting you.”
“Hi,” Camille said with a quick wave of the hand. She looked to be about thirteen, petite with long dark hair and a dress Ana was certain her mother had forced her to wear. “I like your sweater.”
“Thanks,” Ana said. “I like your dress.”
“It’s hidge,” Camille said.
“Aka hideous,” Cole said. “This one would much rather be slashing around on her dirt bike right now than handing out winery brochures.”
“Truth,” Camille said.
“I don’t know if this is your thing, but do you want one of these butterfly masks?”
“Totally!” Camille took it and put it on. “Now I can come with you guys and Mom won’t notice.”
“No can do. We’re heading out, but I’ll see you later, okay?” Cole said.
“You’re seriously going to leave me behind?”
He nodded.
“You do and I’ll tell Mom you have wine hidden in your coat.”
“You do and I’ll tell Mom you went off trail last week.”
Camille gave Cole a dirty look and walked away.
“What are you doing?” Ana whispered.
“Having fun,” he responded. “Let’s get lost.”
“I don’t think it’s a good idea . . .” Ana didn’t want to get caught for stealing wine, especially from Cole’s mother.
“Believe me, she’ll never know it’s gone. She has cases of this stuff at home.”
He put on his mask and grinned. She shook her head and put on the mask as they wound their way toward the exit of the grounds. Ana kept an eye out for Rye, who was nowhere to be found, not even at the Moons’ booth.
“Don’t worry, she’ll be there,” Cole said. “Everyone will.”
They kept walking down a deserted Main Street as the streetlights flickered on.
“Bold move, Brannan,” Ana said, pulling off her mask. “So, are you going to share what you have stuffed in your pockets?”
He smiled and pulled out two mini cans of sparkling wine.
“Honestly, they look and taste like soda. Pack a pretty weak punch.”
They popped the small cans open and continued strolling past the bookstore.
“So, where are you taking me?” Ana asked.
He took her hand again as they cut across Main Street. They passed Monarch Mansion and a few houses before heading into a children’s playground near the stone church, tossing their cans and watching a group of people making their way up the hill in the distance. Cole walked over to the swings. He grabbed the chains and pushed off from the ground. Ana kicked off in the swing next to him. They swung back and forth in silence, higher and higher, watching the sky bleed pink over the town. Ana remembered being on a swing set once. There was a sudden gasp in her throat and a feeling like she wanted to jump. She dragged her feet in the dirt and came to a stop.
“What’s the matter?” he said.
“Long time since I’ve been on a swing set.”
“Me too.”
“Playgrounds were never that fun for me as a kid.”
“We can go somewhere else,” Cole said, worried.
“No, I like it here.” She wanted to add “with you” but didn’t.
“My mom left me on a playground swing once,” Ana continued. “I don’t know why I remember this, but I was so little, and she just left me there for hours, I think.”
Cole put his head down, his hair falling into his eyes. “I don’t know what to say to that.”
“It’s insane?”
“I was going to say ‘cruel,’ but yes. My dad slapped me across the face once. I lost a race on purpose, and he slapped me. I think it surprised him more than me. He never did it again.”
Cole couldn’t believe he’d just compared his situation to Ana’s.
“It’s always the thought of why they did it that stings the most, right?” Ana said.
“Exactly. Like how for a split second, while their reflexes were making the decision, you didn’t factor into their action at all.”
They both sat there for a moment before slowly swinging again.
“If you don’t mind my asking, where’s your dad?”
“Oh, he’s out and about tending to his priorities.” Cole didn’t feel like it was his place to talk about the circumstances of his father’s departure, especially when the Garbers clearly hadn’t told Ana about it.
“It’s weird, but there was a time when I went with it—everything—without much care,” he continued. “I kind of wish I was still like that now.”
“I know what you mean.”
“I was in with the groups at school, went to the house parties, kind of walked through it all in a numb daze. It was a break from the racing. It’s a lifestyle more than just a sport, something my dad and I have been doing since I was a kid, you know? And I was just burned out. He was always pushing me to ride. I would hold the weight of the bike over these jumps, my adrenaline choking every part of me. One day, I kind of snapped out of it and asked myself why I was doing it. Was it for me or him? I thought it was for us both, but then he started going out of town more and not being available. He didn’t even notice that Camille wanted to race more than I did.”
“Are you okay with your dad now?”
“I don’t see him that often because he’s always off with—with work. It’s civil,” he said in a way that Ana couldn’t tell was sad or resolute.
“We should find Rye,” Ana said, but noticed Cole’s disappointment at the mention of Rye’s name. “She told me about what happened, you know.”
“What did she say?”
“That you outed her at some party. She’s hurt by it.”
Cole took a breath and stopped swinging. “Yeah, I screwed that up masterfully.”
“You know she’s still dealing with it, right? People at school are taunting her and saying things. It’s not right.”
“It was an accident, a stupid one. I trusted the wrong people, drank more than I should have—not that that’s an excuse. I’ve apologized, gone over there, sent her letters over the summer . . . she won’t forgive me.”
“Can you blame her?”
They both continued swaying lightly on the swings as it grew darker. There were audible voices up on the hill cheering for the fireworks to begin.
Cole bumped his swing into Ana’s. “Shall we get going?”
“Sure,” she said, bumping him back.
He pushed his swing over to her as far as it would go. “Are you going to help me out here?”
She pushed her swing out to meet him.
Though they both hesitated for a moment, knowing what was coming, someone leaned in first and they kissed. It was a real first kiss this time, quiet and deep. And if there were fireworks, neither one of them noticed.
“Yo, Cole!” someone shouted. “Put it away, dude!”
They parted.
“My friends are here,” Cole said with a sigh.
A group of guys and girls approached, Jim and Kelsey among them. Every single person eyed Ana with curiosity.
“Ana, this is everyone,” he said. “Everyone, this is Ana.”
“We’ve got beer, dude, and so much more,” a guy in a sweatshirt said. “Let’s crack it all open before the show starts.”
A couple of guys jumped around on the merry-go-round pretending to surf at high speed while the group of girls unfurled a blanket in the grass.
“We don’t have to hang out with them,” Cole whispered, though she knew he probably wanted to stay.
“I’m going to go find Rye,” she said, getting up from the swing.
“You looking for your little friend?” Kelsey approached, her hair swinging from side to side behind her. “She’s up on the hill near the cemetery tripping balls. Bought a double portion from Dillon and took twice the amount we did. Maybe she’ll do us all a favor and fall into an open grave.”
Ana refrained from saying or doing anything that might get her sent back, no matter how much she wanted to punch Kelsey Weaver right in the mouth. Manny’s voice popped into her head, telling her it wasn’t worth it. Instead, she started running and didn’t stop until she made it out of the playground and past the church, the sounds of laughter trailing behind. She took a breath at the base of the stone steps leading up to the cemetery and then ran up them, two at a time, as a loud boom rang out overhead, bright lights guiding her way. She passed shadows of people on benches in and around the old gravestones, but she kept climbing, knowing Rye must be up there. There were rows of people clustered across the top viewing area so she kept heading up. Just before reaching the top, Ana peered down to take in the graveyard, which cascaded down the hill. The fireworks illuminated the gravestones and the various people, making it an eerily wondrous sight.
“More,” she heard someone say up ahead. “Glitter. Stars. And more, please. I’d like some mo’, please!”
All by herself, on a long and empty bench, was Rye Moon stretched out like a contented cat. There was another loud boom and another before pops and crackles across the sky.
“Rye?” Ana called out, running to the bench. “It’s me. Are you okay?”
“Well, look who it is—it’s my old pal come to rescue me on the wings of a Pegasus.” She was calm, a faint smile on her face.
“Can you stand? I’m going to take you back down the hill.”
“I can walk, silly. I’m not trapped inside my brain. Whoa. Wait. Did you see that over there?”
“Over where?”
“The man sitting on the grave,” she said, her voice going quiet. “I think we’ve summoned him from the dead, like a séance. I think he has something to tell us.”
“It’s just a man, a real man, watching the fireworks with his girlfriend.”
Ana reached down and scooped her up, throwing Rye’s arm around her shoulder, walking her across the cheering crowd to the top of the stairs.
“I thought you forgot about me,” Rye said. “Electric flowers! Do you see them? Magical mysteries igniting the sky like comets of gold from heaven!”
“We all see them, they’re just fireworks.”
“We must sit,” Rye said, her legs buckling as she oozed to the ground.
“I’ve got you,” Ana said. “We’re going to take this step by step.”
“I got me, you got you.”
Rye stood up and took a few steps but stopped, transfixed by the sky and then by a nearby gravestone, which she reached out to touch.
“Rye, can you tell me what you took?”
“Silly string bin.”
“Did you take mushrooms?”
“That’s what I just said. I took the mushrooms, introduced them to my mouth and then swallowed. How we got to this stone planet is beyond my comprehension, but isn’t it grand?”
The fireworks exploded again overhead, massive starbursts igniting the valley and trees below. Ana put her arm around Rye, remembering someone telling her once that it was important to make someone in an altered state feel taken care of and in a safe place. “I’m here,” Ana said, to which Rye burst into laughter.
“I love you,” Rye answered, trying to catch her breath. “Really, really mean that. We are joined here together on Planet Fate. Let us pray.”
“Ana!” Cole shouted from the bottom of the stairs. He bounded up before she had time to tell him to stay where he was.
“It’s you,” Rye said. “A real American hero. Have you come to take me back to my home planet? Let’s all stay on this one.”
Ana gave Cole a look that said, “Yes, it’s that bad.”
“Wait. I’m detecting vibes. He’s your hero, not mine,” Rye said to Ana. “He’s taking you and leaving me, and there’s no water on this planet!”
Cole bent down and hoisted Rye up into his arms. She gave a squeal before letting her head fall on his chest and again erupting into a fit of giggles. They made their way down step by step, fireworks still bursting overhead.
“About what happened back there—”
“Let’s not,” Ana said.
“Kelsey’s kind of jealous and had no right to say that.”
“Kelsey is a wretched person. Why you went out with her is beyond me.”
“How did you know I went out with her?”
“We did a séance,” Rye said. “The dead have risen. She is one of them.”
As they got closer and closer to the bottom, Ana spotted the same group of Cole’s friends running around and screaming in the playground. “Is there a way we can avoid them?” she asked.
“We’ll have to go backward to go forward, but it’s only two blocks out of the way.”
“Where are you guys taking me?” Rye asked. “Let’s go to Disneyland! Ana? Can you fly us there on your back?”
Cole struggled to hold Rye. She wriggled to the ground at the bottom of the stairs and remained still for a moment. The last of the fireworks rained down from all sides, and Rye suddenly burst into a sprint. She ran for half a block before stopping in the middle of the street and opening her arms to the sky.
“Stay where you are!” Ana shouted as she and Cole ran to catch up.
“Rye? How much did you take?”
“Little baggie,” she said, sitting down on the curb. “I can’t go home like this. I don’t even have my helmet for the journey, and there are elephants in the sky.”
Ana and Cole sat down on either side of her, neither one of them knowing what to do.
“I think we should go back to the booth,” Ana said.
“I don’t think that’s a good idea.”
“It’s you,” Rye mumbled. “It’s you,” she repeated, looking from one to the other. “Everything makes sense now!” She attempted to stand up again, but sat back down grabbing her head as if she were trying to make sense of her thoughts. “You and you are two,” she continued before doubling over in guttural giggles. “Like father, like son, right, Coley? I’m supposed to hate you, but I don’t. I miss you. Why did you fly away? Wait. Shhhh. You guys, I need to fly away. Someone has to fly me home. Now.”
“C’mon,” Cole said, keeping his calm. “We’re all going to walk back together.”
They started walking down Main Street toward the fair, each of them holding one of Rye’s hands. The street was still empty, people beginning to trickle in through the side streets up ahead. Ana glanced at Cole. He gave her an “everything will be fine” look.
“I’m going to be murdered tonight,” Rye said. “Did you know that?”
“Shhhh, you’re fine,” Ana said, putting her arm around Rye’s shoulders.
“I have to hide. My dad’s going to murder me. My mom’s going to give me a life sentence. I have to go. I have to go!”
“We have to do something,” Ana said as Cole stopped Rye from breaking into another run. “I can’t be late. We’re both supposed to be back right after the fireworks.”
“What do you suggest we do? Take her to her parents?”
“No!” Ana and Rye said simultaneously.
“There,” Ana said, pointing up ahead. “We’re going to The Bracken.”
They walked Rye to the café. The light was on, but the door was locked. Ana jiggled it before knocking on the window.
“Are we getting sandwiches?” Rye asked.
Will peeked out from the window of the kitchen and immediately came out, followed by Abbie. They made their way to the front door.
“No, no, no,” Rye said. “No Abbie!”
“Keep calm,” Ana said.
“What’s going on?” Will said unlocking the door. “Come inside. Is everything all right?”
“Ana? Are you okay?” Abbie asked. “I was about to head back to the fair. I’m . . . I’m glad you found me on the way.” She looked just as guilty of something as Ana did, both of them acknowledging they weren’t where they were supposed to be.
“Rye’s not feeling well,” Ana said, both terrified and relieved by Abbie’s presence.
“What’s going on,” Abbie said confrontationally, her anger directed at Cole.
“Whoa,” Rye said. “That dead deer is dancing under a halo of flowers up there. This planet is way better.”
Will tried to suppress a smile.
Abbie looked from Ana to Cole before turning to Rye. “Hey there, lovely girl,” she said, softening her voice. “How you doing?”
“Are you going to murder me?”
“Of course not, sweetie, we’re here to spend some time with you. Doesn’t that sound fun?” She put her hand on Rye’s back and rubbed it. “We’re just going to chill in that booth over here, drink some tea, and listen to some music. How does that sound?”
“That sounds nice.”
She walked Rye over to the booth and sat her down, sliding over a small vase full of flowers for her to look at, then walked back to Ana and Cole at the counter.
“Mushrooms or LSD?” she asked.
“Mushrooms. A small bag’s worth,” Cole said.
“We didn’t know what to do or where to take her,” Ana said.
“And you? Are you on anything?” Abbie took a moment to scrutinize both Ana’s and Cole’s eyes.
“No,” Ana said. “We’re trying to help.”
“I’ll make some tea,” Will said and headed back to the kitchen.
“My parents are going to murder me,” Rye said from the booth.
“Cole, would you mind pulling the shades over the windows? The street is about to fill up again.” Abbie turned to Ana. “What happened? I want a full explanation.”
“I lost Rye at the fair but ran into Cole. So, we walked to the cemetery because that’s where Rye said we were supposed to go anyway. We found her like this.”
“Were you drinking?”
“What? No.”
Abbie took a long look at Ana, who forced herself to remain calm despite the lie, worried that this would certainly be her last night in Hadley. “Go have a seat,” Abbie continued. “Be very encouraging and soothing with her. Keep it light and positive.”
“Here’s the tea,” Will said, setting it down next to Abbie. “I’d let it cool a bit first.”
“Abbie?” Rye said. “You can’t tell my parents. Please, please don’t get my parents.”
“Music,” Abbie commanded. “Something soothing or melodic and complex. No heavy metal.”
Will nodded and went back into the kitchen.
Ana was floored by Abbie’s all-knowing confidence. She seemed to know exactly what to do, giving orders while keeping her focus on Rye the whole time.
“Cole, I think it’s a good idea if you head home now,” Abbie said, the sounds of the café’s regular bluesy soul music floating out of the kitchen. “We can take it from here.”
“I want to help,” he said.
“I know you do, hon,” Abbie said. “But I think it’s best if we handle it.”
Cole nodded and glanced at Ana, giving her a wave.
“Thanks for your help,” Ana called out, watching him walk out the door.
“Here’s how it’s going to go,” Abbie said. “You’re going to stay here with Rye and Will. I’m going to handle Emmett and the Moons. Rye will sleep at our house tonight. Do not let her wander, but if she wants to eat, that would be helpful.”
“Am I in trouble?” Ana asked
“That’s yet to be determined.”
“You guys,” Rye said, leaning over the top of the booth. “It’s like we’re floating in parallel universes.”