August Finch's Arc

Chapter 1 of 1

August Finch had walked the swamp trail for three nights running, and something had walked it with him. He was tall and thin, all knees and elbows, and he kept his eyes down in town because grown men crossed the street when he looked up. He wanted one person, just one, who could hold his stare and not step back. Tonight he meant to find out who was following him before he let himself sit down beside Elena and be still. He stopped at the bend where the reeds grew tall. The footsteps behind him stopped too. He counted to five. Then he turned around fast. Nothing stood on the path. But the mud held a fresh print, small and narrow, pressed deep near the toes. Someone running. Someone light. He followed the prints backward through the cattails until he saw the hutch ahead, its mossy roof leaning into the water. A lantern burned inside. He knew that lantern. He crouched behind a cypress and waited. Elena came out first. She was the sad girl from the edge of town, the one who ate her lunch behind the feed store so nobody had to look at her. She wore the same gray sweater she always wore, sleeves pulled over her hands. She scanned the trail. Then she scanned the trees. Her eyes passed right over August and kept going. A bullfrog on the step puffed its throat and did not move. Elena bent and touched its back like she was thanking it for keeping watch. Then she started down the trail August had just walked, quiet as a cat. He stepped out from the cypress. "It's you." She froze. Her shoulders came up. She turned slowly, ready to run. "Three nights," August said. "You've been behind me three nights." Her face was wet. She did not wipe it. "I wanted to see where you went. I thought if I knew where you went, I could go there too. I didn't want you to see me first." He waited for her to look away. Everyone looked away. His own mother looked at his chin when she spoke to him. Elena lifted her chin and looked straight at him. Her eyes were red and tired and did not move. August felt his throat close. He had practiced what he would say to the thing on the path. He had nothing ready for this. "You can come inside," she said. "I made a place. It's small." He followed her to the hutch. The bullfrog watched him pass and did not flinch either. Elena pushed the warped door open with her shoulder. Inside there were two crates set up like chairs, and a blanket, and a second cup by the lantern. She had set it out before she left. She had been waiting for him to catch her. August sat down on the crate across from her. He kept his eyes on hers. She kept hers on his. Neither of them looked away.