CHAPTER SIX
Owen True – The Forgotten
THE THING ABOUT LIFE in Haywire is that time S-L-O-W-S right down to a crawl. Like the caterpillar I’m watching inch its way across the sidewalk. It’s in no hurry and it might make it across by nightfall if it’s lucky and someone doesn’t step on it first.
So, even though I’ve only been here one week, it feels like a month. Or longer. And I still haven’t heard from my mom or my dad. Probably because time in Seattle and the Bahamas goes by like wild fire and for them, I’ve only been gone, like, two hours.
Still, I’m their kid! Can’t Mom take a little break from all her happy fun to call her only son? Does Ar-throw-up have to dominate all of her time?
Fine. Forget about me then. See if I care. Let me just rot away here in Haywire while you have all your fun and busy work days.
And if it weren’t for Mikala, I would be suffering an actual slow death. The fact that she is on her way over makes this day bearable.
I wait for her at the log by the creek. She wants to see if the fog will show up again and maybe the angel, if it was an angel.
I tried to talk her out of it. This place kinda creeps me out now, but Mikala can be really persuasive. I didn’t want to look like a fraidy-cat so I said okay.
I glance at my watch. Where is she?
Just then I hear twigs snap. Mikala is pushing her way through the long grass.
“Owen True.”
“Hey.”
She sits beside me on the log. She sits close enough to me that I can smell her. A nice fruity scent. Shampoo? I take a close look. Yup, Mikala washed her hair. And combed it.
I can’t stop staring. She looks different. Nice. It makes weird things happen in my stomach. I look away quickly before she says anything.
“Any fog?”
“Uh, no, not yet.”
“Oh.”
We wait there, for, I don’t know how long. I toe the gravelly sand and sift it through my fingers to find a pebble large enough to chuck. There are three, and I throw them into the creek, one at a time. Mikala picks a stalk of long grass and sticks it in her mouth. I do the same.
“What’s Mason up to?” I finally say.
“I dunno. Something dumb with his dumb friends I suspect. Mom says he’s old enough to be working, but there’s no jobs, and if there were, the men would get them first. I know my mom really wishes my dad would get a job. He just lies on the couch all day working off his hangover.”
“Oh.” I totally forgot about Mr. Sweet and their family problems.
“Mason never sticks around when Dad’s home.”
I just nod. I don’t have siblings so I don’t know how families with more than one kid are supposed to work.
“I don’t think the fog’s going to happen,” I say.
“Maybe it only happens at dusk. That’s what time it was before, right?”
I nod again. “Yeah, probably. We can come back later. Do you want to go to Don Chan’s for an ice cream?” It’s getting steaming hot again.
The corners of Mikala’s lips tug down.
“My treat,” I say quickly. “I got money from my Mom before she left. She’s paying me off for ditching me to go on her honeymoon.”
Mikala’s smile returns and we head into town.
Just before we get to Don Chan’s General Store, Mikala points and squeals. “Crickets! The mobile library! I forgot it was coming today.”
She jogs towards the trailer on wheels. It looks to me like it could be a hotdog stand or something. I never saw a library so small before and definitely not one on wheels. “This is a library?”
“Yup, it pulls into Hayward from Edson once a week.”
Mikala hops the steps and is greeted by a middle aged woman with short curly hair and glasses. “Hi Mikala. I thought I might see you today.”
“Hi, Mrs. Smythe. I almost forgot. Can you believe it?”
Mikala searches the shelves for her next summer read. I brought books with me, so I’m in good supply, plus I didn’t think I could borrow from Haywire’s mobile library/hotdog stand, since I’m not from here.
I squish through a couple narrow aisles and start to feel claustrophobic. I decide to wait by the door. There’s a poster taped to it.
“Mikala! Come see this.”
She squeezes up behind me and reads the words on the poster. “Writing contest for young people. If you are between the ages of nine and thirteen you could win a trip to Seattle to meet Joan Hopper.” A little gasp slips from her mouth. “Joan Hopper! Owen True, she’s one of my favorite authors for kids. I have one of her books in my arms right now!”
“You should enter the contest, Mikala. I bet you’d win.”
“Really, you think so? Oh, if I won, I’d get to go to a big city. I’d get to go to Seattle!”
She looks at me carefully. “I could visit you, Owen True.”
“That would be so cool, Mikala. You definitely have to enter now.”
Mikala reads the rest of the directions and asks the librarian for a piece of paper and a pen so she can write it all down.
“I’m so excited, Owen True. I’m going to go straight home and start writing. Is that okay?”
My day just took a turn for the worse, but her face is so excited and hopeful, I can’t tell her that. I force a grin. “Of course. Go write that winning story!”
Mikala grabs her new books and shoots down the road, leaving me standing alone in front of the mobile library/hotdog stand.
Hrumph. Now what? Now time is going to slow up so much it’ll go backward. Before I know it, it will be yesterday again. I shove my fists into my pockets and scuff my feet towards Don Chan’s. Might as well still get that ice cream for me.
I’m bemoaning my friendless state with my head low, watching for cracks in the sidewalk, kicking at any loose stone in my way, so tuned out that I bump into something.
Not hard like a wall. Soft like a body. I lift my chin and whose eyes am I staring in? The scary guy in the box’s, that’s whose. I lose my breath and stiffen like a statue. The guy in the box stares me down, his dark eyes narrow to slits.
My heart pounds. I can’t believe I just ran smack into the guy in the box! He doesn’t move out of the way and my legs seem to forget how to work. “Uh, sorry, sir.”
My brain finally reboots as my legs scoot me out of the way as fast as they can. I’m puffing by the time I get to Don Chan’s and it’s only when I have my hand on the handle that I turn around and look.
The guy in the box stares right back at me.