I SAT ON the porch the next morning, filling the enclosure with smoke as I listened to the wind howl through the trees outside. To say my curiosity was piqued would be an understatement. I couldn't stop thinking about Joshua and that night.
The crate. The crate. The crate.
I spun the thought around in my head. What had been in it, and why didn't Joshua want anyone to know about it?
Ideas stormed around my subconscious, but for some reason my mind wouldn't let those thoughts take full form. I was too afraid of the answers. The shape of that crate... it reminded me of something that might contain a... I didn't think the word aloud.
I focused on another question. What had Joshua been talking about with wind spreading? What did that mean? I puzzled that one over for a minute, but I had no idea. Maybe it was meant to be some sort of a threat.
I finished my cigarette and set it down in the ash tray, letting it smoke itself out. I breathed in heavily, the cool air stinging my lungs, and I shivered. Just as I was about to get up and go inside, the front door to the porch swung open, and Jeremey came in. I'd been so absorbed in thought I hadn't even heard his car pull up to the curb.
"Hey man," he greeted me. He sat down in the wicker rocking chair next to me. "How was work last night?"
I shrugged, and we were quiet for a minute.
"Windy out today, isn't it?" Jeremey finally said, zipping up his jacket a little further. It seemed like that had become a formal greeting in Millstone over the past few months.
I just nodded in response. We sat in silence for another few minutes, the only sound being the breeze knocking against the porch screens and rustling through the leafless trees.
"You remember that guy we followed last week?" I finally broke the silence. "The guy in that beige pick-up?"
Jeremey sighed and ran his hand back through his hair. "Yeah," he finally began. "Ha, that was a dumb idea." He laughed nervously. Something about the experience didn't sit quite right with him either.
"I saw him at the gas station again last night."
"Well I'm not surprised, Harper. Everyone's got to get gas now and again. You of all people should know that."
He was doing his best to hide his nerves, but his voice shook as he spoke. He ran his hands up and down the legs of his pants. They were a hideous turquoise blue, but Jeremey didn't know any better, and I didn't have the heart to tell him. I remembered the day we'd met—the first day of kindergarten. Kid'd worn a pair of pink pants to school. He was color blind. So was his dad. They'd gone shopping and thought the pants were beige. The other kids wouldn't stop making fun of him about it, but then I opened up my dumb mouth and said: "They're not pink, they're salmon." I think my mom must have been watching way too many interior decorating shows at the time, and that was where I'd gotten the idea from. Needless to say, everyone stopped laughing at Jeremey and started laughing at me.
We'd been friends ever since.
A sudden gust of wind knocking at the porch door brought me back to the present, and I looked over at Jeremey. He wasn't paying attention to me, just absently staring out across the street.
"Do you remember the other night?" I finally asked. "The Friday Lydia and I split and you found me in the lawn at four in the morning?"
"Of course, Harper. How could I forget that?" A nervous chuckle. "Why?"
"I don't remember how I got there, back here, I mean. My memory of the night is hazy." I paused for a second. "But I have flashes of it. I remember that guy with the truck—his name's Joshua Rider—I remember seeing him at the bar that night."
"Guy likes to drink, I guess." Jeremey tried to joke, but I could tell he knew something wasn't right. His voice was distant.
"Jeremey, I think something happened that night. Something with Joshua."
"Harper, you know how this sounds, don't you?" A huge grin swept across Jeremey's face, and this one wasn't just there to mask his nerves. I was starting to lose him.
"No, no, listen to me for a second," I said. "I think Joshua did something that night. I remember he offered to give me a ride home. But he didn't take me straight here. He took me to the farm house first." The confession fell out of my mouth like vomit.
Jeremey's green eyes met mine as I spoke. He didn't interrupt me to make fun of me like he always did. Instead, he quietly waited for me to continue.
"There was something in the back of his truck. Some sort of crate. A big crate. Bigger than you or me big. He wanted me to help him move it."
"Harper..." Jeremey tried to interrupt, but I kept going.
"He must have needed someone to help him. Someone that he didn't think would remember the night. I remember going down stairs. Carrying the crate."
Jeremey looked away from me. He didn't want to believe what I was telling him.
"Jeremey, look at my hands." I held out my palms so he could see where the dozens of scratches and splinters were finally starting to heal. "I'm not making this up, look!"
He finally glanced over, but only for a second before quickly averting his gaze.
"You have to believe me."
"I believe you," he finally said. "But Harper, what do you want me to do about this? Go to the cops? No chance they'll believe this."
"There was something in that crate, Jeremey. It was heavy. I think Joshua did something, and he's trying to cover it up. Hide whatever was in that crate in the farm house. Or maybe, he's planning to do something there, and he needed something in that crate for it. A project or something. Either way, it's not good. It can't be good. Why else would he be hiding it?"
I paused for a moment to let Jeremey mull it over. His brow wrinkled in thought.
"I don't remember anything that happened after carrying the crate down the stairs," I finally continued. "Nothing up until the point when he dropped me off on the road near your house. And then, when I saw him at the gas station today, he threatened me."
"What do you mean threatened you?"
"He told me something about keeping out of his business. Something about wind spreading things." I involuntary bit at my thumb, pulling at the nail nervously. "I'm not sure what he meant, but it freaks me out. He's up to something, Jeremey. I know it."
Jeremey shook his head. "Well, so what then? Harper, ignore it. Just ignore it. Ignore him." He repeated himself again and again like if he said it enough times it would come true.
"Jeremey, I can't!" I was nearly pulling my hair out. "You know something isn't right in this town. I know you've noticed it. You've had to have! You can't ignore it!"
"Ignore what?!" Jeremey yelled. He stood up and paced away from me, over to the front of the porch and looked out the screen. He was trying not to make eye contact with me. He didn't want to admit it out loud.
"The wind hasn't stopped in months, Jeremey," I continued as calmly as I could, my voice coming out like a hushed whisper. "People are moving away left and right. There was something sinister in the way Joshua glared at us that day when we drove past his house. You can't ignore it, you fucking can't. It's not natural."
"It's just wind." He still didn't turn to face me. He continued looking out at the dogwood tree in the abandoned house across the street. One of its limbs had come down in the past week. It still lay in the lawn, the breeze whistling through it. No one had come to move it. It would rot there, and eventually the wind would carry the dust away.
"It's not just wind," I said. "Something is going on. And I think Joshua has something to do with it. We have to figure it out."
Jeremey didn't say anything.
"Let's drive by the farm house tonight. If his truck is there, we keep going. But if he's out, let's park. Take a quick peek. See if we notice anything suspicious."
"Harper..."
"Jeremey please!" I begged. "I need to do this. He's involved me in this, and I need to know what's going on. I need to know... what I might have done."
Jeremey sighed and finally turned around. "Fine." He exhaled. "Fine, let's do it." He paused for a moment before continuing. "But only because I think it would be damn funny if the first time the two of us get arrested is for trespassing and not drug possession."