The Trail (MAJOR EDITING IN PROGRESS)

Countdown, Hours 3 & 4

News of the arrival of perspective walkers of the trail spread through the town quickly, every now and then, we would see a curtain move aside and have random strangers stare at us and shake their heads. Holland and I walk beside each other, talking about simple-minded things, ignoring the stares of worry.

We walk by a young girl in a red parka who is building a haphazard snowwoman on the lawn of her house. I saw woman, because she has taken one of those bundles of yellow yarn, and halfway un-winded it to use as hair. I suppose it's better than a top hat.

"Are you guys going to the trail?" She called from the thick-snowed safety of her yard as she threw snow at a cat, smiling.

"Yes," I yelled back.

All at once, she stopped and stared at us. I stopped on the snow-cleared sidewalk, and stared right back. There is disbelief in the air, and something that smells like dampened curiosity. Her mother moved a curtain aside and stared out the frost-glazed window at us.

Holland tapped my arm,

"Lucy, let it go."

"How can they do this?"

"You know the answer."

"They're scared. They're treating us like people treated the Muslims after the September bombings, they're preserving themselves and their families, and I can't pin any blame on them."

I sighed and walked on, Holland took my hand and squeezed it tightly, reaffirming the protection he has on me. I pushed the thought of kissing him in the middle of the sidewalk away, and continued walking in the direction his GPS is taking us.

"I should've looked up a Geocache for this area, caches in the middle of nowhere are the best ones to find!"

I looked around at the surroundings. Many houses made of brown brick and stained wood sit on hills and leveed of ground, and a rec. center as well as a church sit nestled in the corners of these roads. What hit me most though, is the look of the church. It is made of white painted wood with windows of stained glass. It is a steeple church, and looks small, but is in actuality much bigger on the inside. Large stone steps lead up to a set of red double doors, which have large iron doorknockers on them. This place reminds me of a modern day budget cathedral, that is simply hidden among the buildings of this old haunted town.

"My God."

I looked at where Holland's line of sight was pointed, and I realized the GPS had taken us to the church. In fact, his cords stopped just at the steps of the beautiful piece of modern engineering.

"Allons-y?" I questioningly and excitably stated.

"Yeah," he replied quietly, attempting to contain the icy regard in which he holds churches.

I walked up the worn steps and grabbed the dark colored ornate handle, I then pushed the door open and was hit by a comforting wave of warm air. Holland and I walked in, closing the door behind us quickly. We walked down the aisles, passing worn homey pews and community donated bibles lying on the seats. The main room is bright, lights above illuminate the dark blue carpeting of the floor and the gold lettering on the bibles.

"This church is bright, a lot like mine. Not many are like this, and based on what I saw from the outside, I really thought this would be a standard Methodist church."

A set of drums and an electric keyboard sit on the stage, along with a clear plastic podium. The building is modern, meaning there are no creepy statues of Jesus or Mary, no boring sounding organ and piano, and above all else, there is this thing called a heater.