Ghost Not Forgotten

VII: Now

*banner by Lamouette83 (livejournal)

The night following Bennet's and my brawl in the middle of Main happened to be Keplar's Grove's "Friends in Low Places" Night, an event I welcomed as much as I would a dead fly in my coffee.

But Della had nagged and niggled me, so, at dusk, I found myself walking into Burty Shellman's big red barn. Instead of stalls full of hay and animals, it had been cleaned and cleared out to hold the swarm of excited and chatty townsfolk.

Burty's barn was the best in town, mostly because it wasn't over sixty years old like all the others, but just a baby at only twenty-five or so. It was almost brand new when I was in high school and had been the pride and joy of Shellman's farm since its raising.

Because Bennet worked at Shellman's from the time he was 12 until he disappeared, he and Burty got pretty close. He was the only kid in town allowed to wander the farm at any moment he liked, from dusk 'til dawn, even if he was up to no good. Like everyone else, Burty adored Bennet, thinking of him as the son he never had.

Bennet made a habit of sleeping out in Burty's fields when he could, out with the grass and the wind, always liking the outside more than the inside. There were many nights when he and I would sneak out of the house to sleep in Shellman's fields, under the stars, and taking advantage of the secluded, parentless barn loft, when those hot and bothered nights were almost suffocating. Needless to say, we lost our virginities in Burty's barn.

I hated going back to it.

And "Friends in Low Places" Night was hardly worth it, nothing but an excuse for everybody to get together, drink, dance, and grope each other. Every year it just reminded me how I was still there, just as I had been for the last 32 years. Not much had changed from the year before, much like the year before that. I was still Natalie Podger, still a waitress at Della's, still the resident of 1320 Anderhathy Lane. Still in the rut I stuck myself in years ago, doing nothing and watching the world go by.

For some reason, "Friends in Low Places" Night was the one event that made me hate myself a teeny bit more than usual, but did I keep going? Of course I did. Because lifelong residents of Keplar's (in other words, the entire population of Keplar's) never missed a town event unless you were fool enough to have some of Randy Kix's atomic chili and had what Della called the "front and back-fires."

So I went, even though I thought this year I had a pretty good excuse not to.

It was the first time since Bennet blew back into town that everybody was together in one spot. I was an inch away from gulping some of Randy's chili just to escape it all. I knew how these people worked, especially when they got too much alcohol in them, and I knew what was coming. I felt like a cat with its back up.

Because of Bennet's and my little squabble on Main, there was a mix of emotions in the crowd. Some people wanted to rush me and talk all about it, others who knew me better kept their distance, knowing they'd get nothing out of me anyway, and I was able to sidestep most of the gossipers. The only one who got through my defenses was little Mabel Jenkins and only because she was my kindergarten teacher and you just can't snub your kindergarten teacher. Never mind the fact that she was getting on in years (81? Or was it 82?) and really didn't give me a chance to move or even breathe before she launched into a story about Bennet's and my first day of school.

"I remember how scared you two were," she said in her wavery old woman voice. "You came into the classroom holdin' hands and you refused to be parted from each other for the whole day. It was so darlin'!"

I muscled on a kind smile and patted her age-spotted hand, telling her I was going to get a drink. She let me go, but only after she asked me where Bennet, who had yet to arrive, was. I told her I didn't know and somehow I did it without sounding irritated.