So far, Miranda Jessup Buckley has been jilted, fired and left to take care of her ex-lover's child.   She just got done watching two cars from the early 1930s get pulled from the bottom of Haynes Pond.   Now, she is heading out for a lunch date with the sheriff.

 

 

 

                 ****************

 

I wander back to Aaron's truck when the coroner's van shows up.  The last thing I want to see is them pulling three decomposed bodies out.  

 

Of course, Waylon bolts down the road to get as close as he can.  Maybe, if I was a thirteen year old boy, I'd be all about it, but not now.  I wonder how Aaron is holding up.  He's heard about this great uncle of his most of his life.  Even though they never met, family is family.

 

I think about going to sit in Aaron's truck but I'll go stir crazy if I do.  I could use a little exercise, to be honest.   It's approximately a half mile to the turn off at the main road.  Once up and back and hopefully they'll be done.  

 

To be totally honest, I'm a little nervous about having lunch with Mitch.  He's a nice guy.  He has a steady job, well spoken, knows how to dress.  Hell, he's good looking in his unique way.  So, I've got to wonder.  What does he see in me? I work at a convenience store, live in a trailer, am divorced, barely made it out of high school.  Shoot, I'm raising my ex-boyfiend's child.  It can't be my ta-tas because I haven't caught him stealing any glances.  

 

If it was my boobs or any part of my body that garnered his attention, it might be better.  I'm used to that.   I know how to deal with the ones who just want the pleasure of scaling Mt. Booby.   But he isn't showing any signs of that.  I know he's heterosexual, I mean, a girl can tell that kind of thing.  But when he talks to me, he does something I'm not used to.  He looks me in the eye.

 

I walk to the sign at the end of the road.  It's nailed to a tree.  

 

     HAYNES POND

      BOAT LAUNCH

      NO FISHING

 

There are flyers stapled and tacked all over it.  Most are bleached out by the sun, the pictures and words faded.  One is for the ninth annual rubber duck race in Patterson Proper.  Another for a missing cat.  Then fluttering near the top is one that catches my attention. 

 

    Missing:  Jason Alexander Toblerone.  31 years old.  Last seen April 19th.  

 

250,000 dollar reward.

 

I tug the paper free from the board.  He looks so young in the picture.  It's sad to think about being so desperate to find someone, you put flyers around.  Even sadder that the flyers are still up.  Like the questions his parents are left with.  Where is he?  What happened to our son?  

 

I step to the side when the coroner's van passes me.  They must be done so I fold up the paper and slip it into my back pocket.  

 

Just thinking about Jason's poor parents puts my lunch date nerves in perspective.  

 

When I finally get back to the pond, Aaron is telling Waylon all about his experience. He leaves no detail to the imagination.  

 

"Miranda, the guys and me are going to Patterson Deli.  You want to join us?" Aaron says.  He motions towards the divers.  "They're gonna tell stories about some of their dives."

 

"Oh, no, thank you.  That sounds fascinating but I've already made plans.  You go and have fun."

 

He looks towards Waylon.  "Can he come with us?"

 

"That's up to him."

 

"Told you she'd be cool with it," Aaron says to Waylon.  He turns his attention back to me.  " I'll drop him off at home afterwards."

 

I watch as my two boys follow like puppies after the dive team.  When they all pull out and leave, I look around for Mitch.

 

He's down near where I found Ed Preston.  I walk over to him.  

 

"You know, this place used to be a popular place when I was a kid," he says.  "My parents used to bring us here.  We'd pack a lunch, play here at the waters edge.  Now look at it.   Dead bodies, shit, someone thought it'd be a good idea to dump a washer here."

 

"We used to have parties here, when I was in high school.  There used to be burn barrels right there," I say, pointing to the clearing between the clustered live oak trees.

 

"It's so overgrown and has become such a dump, you can't even get back to the boat launch anymore."

 

"I never knew there was a boat launch."

 

He walks toward the taped up washer.  "Why would you tape it shut?"

 

"So, stupid people don't get trapped inside."  I volunteer.  "That's my guess."

 

"Smart."  He taps his finger to the side of his head.  "Come on, let's go get something to eat."  He holds out his hand.  

 

"That sounds good,"  I say, trying my best to play it cool.  

 

"Your friend did okay down there."

 

"Well, thank you for pulling some strings and arranging it so he could help."

 

"No problem.  Besides, those guys love the attention.  They invited Aaron to join them for lunch.  Probably to tell him crazy stories about their adventures."

 

"That's what he said."

 

"Ten percent fact and ninety percent bullshit."  He laughs.  "But we're lucky to have them in the county."

 

I can't take it anymore.  I have to know why he's interested in me.

 

"Before we go, I need you to level with me."

 

He cocks an eyebrow. "Level with you?  About what?"

 

"Why are you interested in me?  I'm not rich, I'm not successful, I'm not even interesting.  So why?"

 

I hear him laugh.  "I don't need your money, I don't care if you're a success, and you are very interesting.  But, if you must know,  I just am.  I like you.  I don't like playing games and I get the feeling that you don't either."

 

"No.  I don't."

 

"And, like I said before, you're a puzzle.  Everytime I think I have you figured out, I find something new about you.  You're a puzzle.  And I really, really like puzzles."

 

The next thing I know, he's kissing me like he's Clarke Gable and I'm Vivien Leigh.  Maybe Atlanta wasn't burning but I'm willing to bet our little corner of Haynes Pond was about to go up in flames.