Page 75 of Together We Rot

WIL

SMALL TOWN OF HORRORS

Nothing’s weirder than seeing your childhood home plastered on CNN. A news reporter reads our town’s fate off a teleprompter, her face trained into a solemn, unblinking stare.

“On December twenty-sixth, an 8.1 earthquake hit the small town of Pine Point, Michigan. The massive devastation resulted in two known fatalities, with one young man still missing and presumed dead.” Elwood’s photo flashes on the screen—a cropped version of him out in the garden, his skin soft in the sun. It lingers for a moment before dissolving into crime scene footage. “But what started as an unfortunate act of God has quickly spiraled into a nightmare for this local community. The aftermath of the quake revealed a series of underground tunnels filled with hundreds of bodies—all beneath the now-destroyed Garden of Adam church. The FBI is calling this cult incredibly dangerous.”

The wreckage of the church flashes on the TV. Boards shattered and bent in odd angles, the steeple caved in completely. The rubble transitions to the steps outside of a courtroom, Mrs.Clearwater glaring at the cameras and clinging tight to her lawyer’s side. Another flash and the scene turns to her with her hand held high to take the oath.

“Now, five months later, the next round of trials for the Garden of Adam’s members are set to begin. We expect to dig deeper into the sinister underbelly of the case and uncover the church’s roots. More from our very own reporter Chett Adams, who is here on the scene interviewing local boy Brian Schmidt.”

The cameras pan from a lumber truck barreling down a country road to a stream of coffee hitting a (surprisingly) clean cup at Earl’s. They’ve got Brian on TV, his hair extra saturated under the fluorescents.

“Brian, how are you coping with the aftermath of all this?” Chett says, and, my God, does the man look out of place with a taxidermy bear behind him.

“Oh, it’s a struggle every day, Chett. I can’t even sleep at night. To think, I was this close to the center of everything—”

I flip the station off. Brian’s annoying voice dissipates with the crinkle of static.

“They just put anyone in the spotlight, don’t they?” Cherry mutters from the kitchen table. Her roots are as bright as the party streamers twirling around her head. “That kid’s been on the news several times now. Swears up and down that he was part of your little posse and helped solve everything. The news is lapping it up.”

“He acts like he didn’t pick on Elwood and me all the time,” Kevin gripes. With the way the birthday boy’s leaning back, he’s lucky he’s got the only one of our chairs with four working legs. Otherwise he’d fall back into all of our trash. “That guy gave me a wedgie in eighth grade and suddenly we’re buddy-buddy now?”

“You know what? Let him pretend,” Lucas says, speaking over the fizz of a popped can. It’s hard to take him seriously in his Mothman birthday hat, but seeing as how we’re all wearing something cryptid-themed, I’m not able to talk. “I’m sick of interviews. Can’t step a foot out of my house without some reporter shoving a camera in my face. If Brian wants to take them all, more power to him.”

“Oh, you think you have it bad?” Ronnie jests. Her own party hat is lopsided on her head. The Loch Ness Monster in crude black Sharpie. Not a lot of party supplies ship out here, so we had to settle for plain hats and our own imagination. “Try being the daughter of the only Garden of Adam member willing to talk... I know I should be happy she’s willing to finally try and make amends, but I can’t catch a break. I just want to be left alone.”

“I’m sorry, babe.” Lucas’s expression softens, and he rubs lovesick circles against her skin. He presses a kiss to her cheek and she leans into it and—

“There goes my appetite,” I say because I am allergic to seeing other people’s affection. Not only is it awkward as hell, but now when I see them all gross and in love, all I can think of is Elwood.

“You’re not allowed to lose your appetite,” my father chimes in. Between his beardless baby face and the high-pitched gasp in his voice, you’d think my dad was a child all over again. He’s certainly treating the oven like it’s an Easy Bake. Took him seven thousand attempts to learn to cook again without making a charred mess. “I worked really hard on this cake, and you all better eat it.”

“A box cake would’ve worked just fine,” I joke. It’s weird, joking with him. Things are still stilted between us. He might’ve extended an olive branch, but it’s still flimsy. There’s a long way to go before we’re normal again, if something like that is even possible. But it’s a start.

“Nonsense,” he quips, dropping the fondant monstrosity onto the table. “Could a store-bought cake look like this?”

This being a gray blob with red UFO lights and two Twinkie aliens perched at the top. It read HAVE AN OUT-OF-THIS-WORLD BIRTHDAY, KEVIN.

“No, I guess it really couldn’t.” I snort.

It doesn’t matter if I’m not thoroughly amazed. Kevin’s eyes are solar-system bright. He grins with all of his teeth. “It’s perfect, Mr.G. Can I have the Twinkie—er, alien—at the top?” Dad nods, and Kevin bites off the green monster’s head. “Thanks, guys. I really don’t know what to say. I’m just glad everyone was able to make it.”

My fork’s been twirling idly in my hands until this point, but I white-knuckle it now as it stabs into the wood. “Almost everyone,” I whisper, and I despise the crack in my voice. It’s Kevin’s birthday. Don’t cry. Don’t cry, don’t cry, don’t even think about crying.

But it’s too late. A tear goes streaking down my cheek. And when one tear breaks, all the rest follow. Ronnie’s at my side in an instant. She squeezes me tight. “Don’t cry, Wil,” she whispers. “You can still go see him today after...”

That might be the worst part. As much as I want to drop in and see him—I’m scared to talk to him about the future. This whole time I’ve been so focused on finding Mom’s killer and keeping Elwood safe that I never stopped to think about what I want. The world waiting for me just out of reach. How I long to map the universe out like the stars glued to my bedroom ceiling. How I want to leave Pine Point. “I don’t know how he’ll react to my news. I don’t want to hurt him.”

It’s Lucas who surprises me. He’s silent as he sits up and cuts out a square of Dad’s cake. It’s a sloppy piece on a paper plate, topped off with the one remaining Twinkie. “Here,” he says. “Something sweet to soften the blow. I wanted to save him a slice.”

A smile actually breaks out on my face. I smear the tears away and look at the buttercream offering and it gives me more strength than I’ve felt in months. “Thanks, Lucas.”

He flashes his signature smirk, and for the very first time, I don’t completely hate it. “What are friends for?”

•••

The trees part as I clear the Morguewood—branches snap, brambles clear from underfoot. The forest is exceedingly gentle with me, softening all its wild edges, transforming into a clear picture of Elwood’s heart. It is no longer dense and dark and dangerous but a flower-dotted playground teeming with life.

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