J. Souders: Revelations

“Yes. Of course.” My stomach still tumbles like driftwood in a wave, but I press my hands to it.

He gives me a strange look, then shrugs and continues forward. We pass some more of those strange little metal houses, which are placed randomly on the sand until we get to a set of buildings that seem to be laid out with more thought. They’re all an equal distance apart and the same distance from the dirt path. While they’re in various stages of completion, it’s easy to see they’re all going to look exactly the same as the one finished one. Two floors high, if the windows are any indication, with white walls and light blue roofs. It strikes me then, how dirty everything is here. Even the new buildings and the ones that are still skeletons of what they will be have a thick layer of dirt and grime. I don’t know why, but it bothers me. Dirt leads to disease. And disease to death.

We follow a large path, passing another row of those apartment-type buildings before getting to other buildings in various states of repair. Some look brand new, like the general store. Tristan disappears into the building without saying a word and Gavin only shakes his head.

Next to that is something called Sheriff’s Office and it, too, looks new, but not quite as … shiny as the general store, whose windows glisten in the bright sun and blind me even through the dark sunglasses I’m forced to wear to protect my eyes.

Across the street, other buildings look old and worn out. Tired, almost. Like the building called Bar. There are even metal poles on the dusty windows. Next to that is a dusty building housing the Metal Smith, with a hole in its brick wall. The roaring and banging sounds coming from the large opening make me nervous, and, for some reason, it’s hotter standing outside of it than it is anywhere else. The air is all wavy in front of me.

A man—at least I think it’s a man—wearing a striped shirt and jeans with some kind of black apron pokes his hat-covered head out the opening. When he sees Gavin, he waves. “Gavin! Do ya have a minute? I finished the repairs on the shotgun. Thought you’d want a peek.”

Gavin grins and pulls me over to the opening while the man disappears inside again. When he returns, he’s holding a gun. He hands it to Gavin, then does the funniest thing. His eyes move over to me. He blinks. Then blinks again. Then his eyes grow round and he whisks his hat from his head and balls it in his hands. “Pardon me, miss. Didn’t see ya there.” His dirt-streaked face turns bright red.

Gavin glances over, but quickly goes back to studying the gun. “Oh, Frank, this is my girlfriend, Evie. Evie, this is Frank. He’s the metalsmith. He’s a genius. If it’s made from metal he can work magic.”

Magic?

Frank blushes even more, wringing his poor cap in his hands so tightly I’m afraid he’s going to tear it.

I do a little curtsy. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

Frank looks slightly confused, but nods. Then he turns his attention back to Gavin. “What’cha think?”

Gavin looks up and nods. “Another great job, Frank. Thanks!” He holds his hand out and I watch with interest as Frank takes it and shakes it. I’ve seen Gavin do that with Dr. Gillian, too. “I’ll have Tristan drop by with the rest of that boar I owe you later. Okay?”

Frank nods. “Or whenever.” He focuses back on me. “He’s good folk.” He jerks his head toward Gavin. “You won’t find a better person than Gavin, miss. He oughtta be mayor, instead of that yahoo they got in the mansion now.” He spits on the ground as if just saying “mayor” leaves a bad taste in his mouth. I jump away and try not to show how disgusted I am by it, but I must not hide it well, because he says, “I beg pardon, miss.”

I force a smile and try not to look at the ground where he spat. “Think nothing of it.”

He gives me that strange look again, but smiles back before winking. “I charge the mayor up front and double.”

Gavin laughs. “Next time charge him triple.” He pulls the shotgun’s strap over his shoulder and takes my hand, waving with the other as we leave.

When we get back to the street, I turn back around in time to see Frank shove his hat back on his head and disappear behind the wall again.

Gavin takes me on a tour of the town, stopping at almost every building to introduce me to the people inside. There are so many people, considering how small the township really is, that I can’t keep them straight. Only two stick in my head. Mr. Pok, who runs the feed and grain store, and Mrs. Little, who runs the general store with her three adorable daughters.

After asking about his mother, Mrs. Little hands Gavin a bolt of fabric. “Here’s the rest of the payment for that pheasant your ma brought me the other day. Sure was a pretty thing. Tasty, too.” She winks at him. Then she hugs me. My whole body tenses. Gavin’s mom and sister are big on hugs, too, and it always makes me feel peculiar. But, as I do with them, I force myself to relax and then, unsure what else to do, decide to hug her back.

“Welcome!” she tells me. “I’m so glad to see you’re well enough that you can visit!” While she’s talking, another customer comes in behind her. A boy that looks to be about Gavin’s age.

Everyone in the town has been a bit strange to me, but this one is the most bizarre one yet. His dark hair has a blue streak in the front, and his button-down shirt is loose over his slacks. Instantly there’s tension in the air. I glance over at Gavin, who is scowling again. The new boy, on the other hand, stops in his tracks when he sees us. They watch each other carefully, reminding me of the way Lucy behaved when a different dog came over and wanted me to pet it. They circled and growled at each other for a long time, while I sat petrified—I still don’t know if I was scared of them or of myself—until Gavin’s mother came out and chased the other one off with a broom.

Mrs. Little clears her throat and we all turn to her. “It was wonderful finally meeting you, Evie. You come back here anytime, ya hear? Gavin, you get on back to your mom now. She’ll be waiting for that fabric and I don’t have time to be cleaning up after the two of you.”

Gavin looks like he’s going to argue, but Mrs. Little places her hands on her hips and Gavin ducks his head. “Yes, ma’am.” He walks past the boy, who nods his head and smiles at me as we pass. I smile cautiously back and the boy’s grin grows.

As soon as we slip out the door, I grab Gavin’s arm. “Who was that?” I ask.

He shrugs and keeps going. “No one.”

“Didn’t seem like no one.” I have to rush to keep up with him. He seems in a hurry to get away from the store.

“Just an old friend.”

I stop and turn, calling over my shoulder, “Well, if he’s an old friend, then I should meet him. Maybe we should be friends, too.” I only take one step before Gavin’s in front of me, his hands on my shoulders.

“He’s not your friend. He’s not anyone’s friend. You can’t trust him. Ever.” His eyes are cold and hard. It’s scary, but kind of sexy too. Heat spreads from my stomach outward. I’ve never seen him like this. I glance over his shoulder and see the boy walk out of the store. He pauses when he sees Gavin, then turns and walks in the opposite direction.

“Why not?” I ask, moving my eyes back to Gavin’s.

He’s quiet for so long, I think he’s not going to answer, but finally he says, “He— His father is the mayor. And the mayor is sent from Rushlake City. People from Rushlake never do anything without expecting payment in return, and you do not want to owe what they want to be paid.” His eyes are haunted, and though I know he’s not telling me the entire truth, I can’t push him. It’s obvious the real reason isn’t something he wants to talk about.