Page 36 of Like A Moth To A Flame

He tossed his head back in a laugh, clutching his belly. Apparently, it was funny, but I just sat there, waiting for his mirth to settle.

I wasn’t joking.

“God no!” he said finally, wiping tears out of his eyes. “I can’t keep a straight face that damn long, I’d have cracked long ago.”

I finished my beer as he finished the remnants of his chuckles.

“But you haven’t… thought about it?” He seemed to be breaching the subject a lot more cautiously following my outburst.

“Of course I have,” I said, handing him my empty beer bottle. He sent it over the railing with the others, clanging into the forgotten pile to wait for the end of summer. I was never brave enough to do it myself.

“And?”

“And…” I said impatiently, shrugging. “I have no fucking idea. Truthfully.”

Reaching into the cooler, I pulled out another beer. I enjoyed the slick, chilled glass against my fingers and the weight of it in my hand. I’d already twisted it open before I noticed just how deep my head was spinning and I thought better of it.

Maybe this was a bad idea.

“Second thoughts?” Barrett asked, reaching out to take it from me. I nodded and handed it over.

We sat in silence, listening to an owl hooting in the treeline, and the crickets calling and chirping in the weeds. Occasionally, one of the cows in the barn would let out a long, mournful moo, or I would hear them brushing up against the wooden fence posts, or the metal gates.

“I mean, it has to be fairly easy to figure out,” he said, kicking one leg up until it hung over his side of the swing. “It’s a small town. What do we know about him so far?”

I sat there, listening to the sounds of the darkness as I tried to get my brain to work for me.

“He’s tall,” I said, looking away. “Last night when he grabbed me, the top of my head fell into the middle of his chest.”

“Or maybe you’re just really short.”

I glared over at him.

“I’m 5’6. That’s average.”

“Okay, okay! So, tall. Anything else? Cause you just described like half the town.”

“His voice is really deep. Likereallydeep.”

Barrett was quiet for a minute, pulling a few deep drinks from the beer.

“That doesn’t necessarily mean anything. They have voice changers and stuff.”

“InCottonwood Falls?”

“On every single cell phone!”

I shrugged. He was right there, I supposed.

“So he’s tall, with a deep voice,” Barrett thought out loud, green eyes narrowed as he glanced over at me. “Sheriff Banner?”

My stomach twisted into a knot.

“No way!”

“Because there’s actually no way, or because you don’twantit to be?”

I paused again. Truly, I couldn’t think of a good reason to count him out.

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