The Sisters of Nowhere

f i f t e e n : s t u c k

Hal wasn't the only one watching Marigold in the clearing.

Wyatt had been staring up at the ceiling of his lean-to, listening to the rain echoing off the glass windows when he heard Marigold's Ford pull up in the clearing.

He couldn't see who she was trying to talk to, but then there was a flash of lightning, followed by the image of trees that were there for a second and gone the next.

Marigold was back in her truck and tearing down the road before Wyatt recovered. When he did, he raced outside, his white sneakers splashing in the mud.

What was she doing in this storm in the middle of the night?

He took off towards the Penny's, but didn't have to go far before spotting the Ford on the side of the muddy dirt road, red brake lights fuzzy behind a screen of rain.

The back right tire was stuck in the sludge and Marigold was trying in vain to push it out.

Wyatt picked up his pace and joined her behind the truck.

"Wyatt?" she breathed, wiping dirt and water from her brow.

"You go to the front," Wyatt instructed. "I'll keep pushing."

Marigold hurried to the driver's seat and punched the gas.

Mud spewed all over Wyatt from head to pajama shirt to toe.

"Sorry!" Marigold apologized.

"One more time!" Wyatt shouted back.

She pressed the gas again and Wyatt heaved with all his might.

Mud flung all around him until the truck finally gave a squeal and bumped out of the muck.

Wyatt exhaled and drug his arm across his forehead.

Marigold hopped out of the truck. "I can't thank you enough."

"Don't mention it." Wyatt surveyed her carefully, though his vision was clouded by a fog of gritty mud.

The rain stopped as quickly as it came, leaving the air thick with humidity and the intense cacophony of cicadas that were invigorated by the storm.

"Well, I'll see you around," Marigold said with a forced laugh.

"Wait," Wyatt said quickly. "What happened?"

"What do you mean?" Marigold asked innocently.

He didn't reciprocate her smile when he said, "In the clearing."

Marigold's facade disappeared and a dark cloud overshadowed her features. "Nothing."

Wyatt frowned. "Seriously?"

Marigold swallowed and glanced sideways. "I don't know. Really. But I want to find out and..." her mouth twitched, as if she were deciding something, "and I don't want my sisters to know. Not yet."

Wyatt did not like the sound of that.

"Promise you won't tell them?" It wasn't so much a question as it was a warning.

But Wyatt didn't know what there was to tell, exactly, except what he'd seen for himself, which wasn't much. So he nodded.

Marigold folded her arms and stepped back. "Thanks."

"It'll catch up with you eventually," Wyatt warned. "Whatever it is."

Marigold looked down. "Thanks for helping me with the truck."

She turned and got behind the wheel again, leaving Wyatt on the road soaked down to the skin with mud caked in crevices he didn't care to think about.

A deep concern settled in his stomach. The same voice that spoke to him when he first came to Nowhere that said something was happening repeated itself in his mind.

It's coming, coming, coming...

~~~~~~

Wyatt and Oscar counted to three before loading the new thresher onto the back of a trailer.

It was big and clunky and wasn't very new at all, except that it was to the Penny Cotton Company.

It had been a three-hour ordeal to get it onto the trailer without breaking it in half, but with the help of a tractor and a lot of finagling, they managed to get the job done.

Wyatt drug his arm across his forehead and warily climbed into the passenger seat of Oscar's truck. His muscles shivered with exertion, but he didn't dare complain because he knew Oscar had done twice the work he had and somehow managed to keep a placid smile on his face the whole time. Wyatt wondered how it was possible.

They drove on in silence for a mile or so and Wyatt closed his eyes against the breeze that cooled off his sweaty skin.

"How's Hal doing?" Oscar asked. "I didn't see him at the stand on Saturday."

Wyatt studied the cotton field as they passed by. Half of the white rows were already picked, leaving it brown and barren. He remembered the things he'd seen in Hal's bedroom--the drawings of a forest, the journals, and the books. He said, "I don't know. I don't see him very much."

The idea of a question rolled around in Wyatt's mind, though it took a second for him to articulate it. "Does Hal...what's his story? How did he come here?"

Oscar inhaled as if it were a big question and exhaled as if he didn't quite know how to answer it. "About...ten years ago, I think it was, Hal just showed up outta the blue and bought that old farmhouse. We didn't know if he'd inherited it or what, but he was only a little older than twenty when he arrived. Nobody heard a peep out of him until he registered to sell his tomatoes in town. I don't reckon I've ever had more than a two-minute conversation with the man."

"Was he ever married?" Wyatt asked.

"I don't know," Oscar replied. "All I know about Hal Best is that he grows the best tomatoes in Georgia and that he spends his days in his bedroom doing some kind of research. You'd know more about that than I would."

Wyatt nodded. It was true, he did know more, but that was still next to nothing.

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Hey everyone! I hope you enjoyed this surprise Saturday chapter! I know it's short, though XD

~How will Wyatt do keeping a secret from the other girls?

~If you had to guess--what is Hal up to? o.O

~General thoughts on Wyatt so far?

Don't forget to comment, vote, and share! Thank you SO MUCH for reading!