THREE

“YOU DON’T HEAR THAT?” She stared deep into the woods, not blinking.

“Uh, nope.” Okay, so I was picking up on something, but it was faint, and I was hoping she’d drop it. I wanted to get beyond talking and on to other things. “Let’s not worry about —”

“I think it’s underneath us. What is that?”

Once Jess made up her mind, that was it. I gave up on getting my way and made somewhat of an effort to listen. “It’s probably a drainage ditch or something. It’s been raining for days.” It sounded like rapids, liquid tumbling and sloshing.

“Seriously, Owen? It’s way bigger than a drainpipe. Listen.”

I couldn’t have cared less, but out of respect for her, I closed my eyes and silenced my breathing. Sure enough, I not only heard it, I felt it. Something stirring below ground.

“Maybe there’s an underground spring.” I leaned back against a rock, straightened my legs, and folded my hands behind my head. My work was done.

“So —you’re just gonna sit there?”

Should’ve known.

“All right, Jess. I’ll see what I can find.”

It didn’t take long to notice that the deeper I went into the woods, Jess on my heels, the louder the odd sound got. We walked for what had to be at least half a mile, stepping over unearthed tree roots and piles of leaves reduced to wet globs of brown.

I arrived at a thick wall of brush and branches and looked back at her. “You really want me to get through all this?”

Of course she did.

I kicked some of the limbs, breaking them in half, then pulled at the entangled clutter. Jess helped too. When a few holes opened up, we stopped and peeked through.

Jess gasped. “What’s this?”

I scanned the scene —a large enclosed clearing in the woods, so dark that it already looked like dusk in there.

I kicked harder now, eventually making a gap we were both able to squeeze through. We stepped into the dirt-covered area —a thick line of trees framing a nearly perfect circle of empty space. About thirty feet across, if I had to guess.

Jess clutched my hand, and we walked to the center, then stood back-to-back, looking up. Sprawling oak trees formed a ceiling high above our heads, the branches interlocked like bony fingers so that minimal sunlight broke through. It made sense that it was much dryer and cooler inside here —the tree cover was like an immovable dark umbrella.

In a way, it was scenic. But way too dingy to be pretty.

Jess spun around slowly, taking it in. “This is your property, right?”

“Yeah.” It was weird to think I owned this.

Given the sound and feel of movement beneath our feet, it seemed if we reached down, we’d touch turbulent water. But there was nothing but dry dirt and crunchy leaves.

Jess wandered to the edge of the tree line. “Check this out.”

A web of vines concealed a redbrick water well, weathered and cracked. A rope hung from an old but sturdy wooden crankshaft mounted to the well. I leaned forward and gave the rope a tug. “This thing has to be a hundred years old.”

Jess put her cell in flashlight mode, then shined it down. It’s hard to say how far down the bottom really was, but it was deep enough that I felt kind of queasy leaning over the side. Nothing but a worn wooden bucket on the ground down there, still attached to the rope. The earth was so dry the mud was cracked.

Jess and I walked around the clearing some more, but we never did locate any water.

Suddenly something made an eerie, high-pitched howl. I would have sworn it was an owl, but Jess got spooked. We’d walked nearly all the way back to my motorcycle when she stopped and yelled my name. I thought she’d spotted a venomous snake or something.

“I left my cell phone in that dungeon.”

I didn’t waste time getting frustrated —just did the manly thing and started back while she sat on my bike and played music on my phone.

It wasn’t hard to spot her neon pink phone case on the ledge of the well. I grabbed it and turned to go.

But this time, I got spooked.

Something was rustling in the trees. Not like a creature scurrying along the ground or birds fluttering leaves but something big. Heavy footed. Headed toward the clearing.

All I had time to do was duck behind the well.

I held my breath and waited. Then . . .

It took me a minute to make sense of what I was seeing. An old man in overalls and a cowboy hat, clutching a large pair of limb cutters. He started whistling an upbeat song as he headed straight for the well.

I didn’t want to startle him, but I saw no point in hiding anymore. I rose slowly. He saw me but didn’t flinch, just smiled and kept coming toward me.

I recognized him now. This was the man I’d seen outside Jess’s house this morning. The one who’d stared at me from inside his white pickup.

“You here to help?” He smiled wide.

“Help?”

He didn’t pause, just started cutting vines away from the well. He worked like he had the strength of a young man. The whole scenario was super weird.

He nodded toward Masonville High. “You go to that new school over there.”

Seemed like it should have been a question. I went ahead and said, “Yeah.”

“Tragedy ever since those doors opened.” He shook his head. “Untold loss.”

I nodded, then peered into the distance, anxious to get back to Jess. Of course I had questions I’d have liked to ask this guy —like, where had he come from, and why bother with this useless well? But I couldn’t stand here all day.

I was about to say, “See ya,” and go, when he stopped snipping, leaned the cutters against the side of the well, and looked at me. I mean looked at me, like he had that morning, like he was staring through my skin.

I swallowed hard. Fidgeted. But couldn’t shake the awkward feeling —like I was standing there naked.

His brown eyes were as dark as his skin yet had a golden tint I’d never seen before. They struck me as kind but intense. I felt the need to look away.

“How ’bout you and I have a drink?” He turned to the well and began to crank the handle.

“Um, that’s okay. I need to get back. There’s a girl waiting on me.”

“You worried about her?”

I didn’t know if he meant right now or in general, but I said yes. Either way, it was true.

“This town could use a young man like you. One who looks out for others.” He’d nearly hoisted the bucket to the top by now.

“Just so you know,” I told him, “that well’s dry.”

“No, it’s not.”

“Uh, yeah, it is.” I tried not to sound rude. “We just shined a light down there.”

“No. It isn’t.”

One more turn of the handle and the bucket was up, sloshing over with water.

“That’s . . . I saw it, and it was definitely dry.”

The man let out a hearty laugh, then pulled two paper cups from his pocket. He blew in them and used his finger to wipe particles out. Gross.

He scooped water into both cups, then handed me one. It was torn along the rim —used, for all I knew. He lifted his cup as if to say cheers, then downed the water.

“Um . . .” No way I was drinking that water, especially after I looked in the cup. “There’s stuff floating in here.”

He grinned. “City boys. Think a piece of dirt’s gonna kill ’em.”

I hadn’t told him I’d moved here from the city, but I figured my accent tipped him off.

I tried to hand the cup back, but he wouldn’t take it.

“Go on.” He had a gentle smile.

“I’ll pass.” I reminded him that someone was waiting on me, then felt the need to add, “My guess is this water is loaded with bacteria.” I dumped it out, then crushed the cup. He took it from me this time.

I thought for sure he’d back off now, but as I turned to go, he piped up. “Brave enough to save his mama’s life but scared of a little sip of water.”

I froze. Then spun around. “What’d you say?”

I hadn’t told anyone what had happened the night my mom and I left Boston for Texas —and I was sure she hadn’t either. I had no intention of ever telling that story. But it was true. What the man had just said.

“How did you know that?”

He smiled bigger and raised his cup. “Let’s have a drink.”

That was it. All the strangeness I could take. “I’ve gotta go.” I took off again, faster this time. As I was about to squeeze out of there, I mumbled to myself, “This town’s messed up.”

“Sure is,” he said, somehow hearing me from all the way across the clearing. “Been messed up for a long time.”

And with that, he went back to trimming, apparently content for me to go. But I just stood there. There was something this man wasn’t telling me.