The Prichard farm was old when my nana was a little girl. She said it was the oldest place she knew--that the town started with the Prichards and just grew out from them. For generations, the Prichard family thrived on their land, and from their success came prosperity for the whole town. However, Nana said that the Prichards' fortunes dried up one summer when the head of the house, Josiah Prichard, hanged himself in the barn. The tragedy struck everyone. Before the town had time to mourn, however, Nana said the Prichards packed up everything they could carry and high-tailed it out of town like they were being chased. 

No one has lived on the Prichard property since. Its wide crop fields withered. The rotted barn and farmhouse sidings rattled in the wind like bones. A hungry silence lay upon the property. Nana warned me to never go there. She said, "I ain't never believed in curses, and I reckon I still don't. But I believe in whatever it is that sits inside the Prichard farm--whatever it is ol' man Josiah saw that made him betray his Redeemer and choose an eternity in Hell over one more second in this world with it."

Mama didn't like when Nana told me scary stories about the Prichards. I told Mama I was old enough to hear, but she wouldn't allow it. She'd point a finger in Nana's face and say, "You jus' stop fillin' his head with that wickedness, Ma!" I guess when you get to a certain age, you can start talkin' back to your mama. I can't wait.

Until such a time that adulthood liberated me, however, I was obliged to submit to the whims of my elders. If Nana said the Prichard farm was off limits, then that's the last place I would go. At least, that was always the plan. However, Sue-Marie Thompson had a different one. 

Before I could leave my porch, she was standing at the landing of the steps with a grin that some ladies in church might say carried sinful intent. "Hey, Jimmy!" said the freckled girl. Her dirty blue overalls hugged her solid frame. Her blue eyes peeked up at me through a tangled mess of red curls. I rolled my eyes at the sight of her grimy face. She and I were in the same grade, but I was two years younger than she. Mama said some people just needed a little extra time to figure things out before they let you move on to the next grade. I just thought she was dumb.

"Whaddya want?" I sighed. None of the other kids at school talked to Sue-Marie or wanted to spend time with her. I certainly didn't, but Mama said, as a Christian, it was my responsibility to be nice to Sue-Marie and include her whenever I could. As a result, I was her only friend in town and, apparently, the only Christian.

"I gots somethin' to show ya!" she said with an eagerness that made me shiver. Her scabbed lips peeled back to reveal teeth that looked as bad as they smelled. I knew if I stared at her crooked, yellowish-brown smile for too long, I'd be sick. 

I looked down at my feet and said, "Thought you were sick. You haven't been to school in the last few days."

Sue-Marie's putrid smile vanished, and her eyes glanced off to the left. I recognized this expression, and I prepared myself for a whopper. "Yeah, I had strep throat, but then it turned into syphilis, so I had to stay home a while longer for it to pass."

Growing up down the street from her, I'd known Sue-Marie since she could talk, or in her case: lie. She was the best storyteller in Jacksonsville County. Best in the sense that they were entertaining, but not at all believable. Sue-Marie would lie to teachers and preachers about why she was late or why she fell asleep. It usually involved an escaped wolf from the zoo that chased her through the woods, which she had to fight off with her bare hands. And if anyone scrutinized any detail of that story, she'd doubledown declaring that after she'd finished with the wolf, his pack and a grizzly bear showed up next, drawn by the smell of the blood.

"Wow, that's, uh--that's something," I replied.

"Yeah, but I'm better, now, so let's go!"

"Gosh, I'd like to, but--"

"But nothin', Jimmy! You've got to see this! When I found out, you were the first person I wanted to tell. Now, come on!"

There were many ways I wanted to tell Sue-Marie that I didn't want to go with her, and that our friendship was built solely on the fear of my eternal damnation, but as usual, I simply put away what I really wanted to say and allowed the stronger personality to have its way. "Fine," I sighed heavier. 

She hopped up and down in excitement and ran towards a rusted old bicycle leaning against our picket fence. I trudged over to gather my bicycle, and we were off down the road in a few seconds. I pumped my legs hard to keep up with Sue-Marie, though I figured if I lost track of her, I could always just follow the sound of her whining pedals. If Mama ever saw me riding something like that, I'd be in the hospital getting a tetanus shot. 

After three turns, I began to feel my stomach tighten. We were leaving the parameters that Mama had approved for me. I was allowed to ride my bike through town and a little ways outside on the main roads, but I was never allowed further than that. A vain hope crossed my mind that Sue-Marie had been given the same restrictions, but seeing her speed up as we passed Gale Street made my face grow cold.

I wanted to call out to her and explain that I wasn't allowed any further. However, I had already told Sue-Marie I'd follow her. "A Christian does what he says he's gonna do, young man," Mama's voice echoed in my mind. She never told me what to do when being a good Christian meant defying her wishes. Would that even work as a defense? 

"Almost there!" Sue-Marie's voice called. I was brought out of my pondering and looked up to see she had pulled further ahead of me. I pedaled faster to catch up until I saw it rise above a hill in the distance--our destination: The Prichard Farm.

"Wait!" I yelled. My hands gripped the brakes, and my bicycle slid to a complete stop. With a metallic shriek, Sue-Marie spun her bicycle around and rode back to me. 

"What's the matter?"

"Whaddya mean 'what's the matter'? Are you nuts? I ain't goin' there!"

Sue-Marie smirked. "Jimmy, you lil' chicken-shit."

I gasped at her foul language. "Don't say filthy things like that. You'll get your mouth washed out with soap." Then again, soap was probably not something Sue-Marie saw much of at home. Maybe that's why only the dirty people in town swore.

Sue-Marie rolled her eyes and smiled again. "Jimmy, you ain't got nothin' to worry about. I ain't gonna let nothin' happen to ya. And I really wanna show you somethin'. Please? Please?"

That feeling again--something pulling me apart from the inside. Mama's warning voice and Sue-Marie's bombarding presence. It was hard to breathe. I didn't know what to do. "I--"

"I promise ya it won't take two shakes, Jimmy!" Sue-Marie vowed. "I jus' wanna show ya where I'm gonna live."

"Say what?"

Sue-Marie's cheshire grin returned, and she exploded. "I was gonna wait to show you, but I guess I can just tell ya this, now."

"What?" I rolled my eyes, preparing for another tall-tale.

"Well, I never knew my daddy. Mama said he ran off on us 'fore I was born. She says he's the reason we're trash."

Everyone in town knew that Sue-Marie's mama was the meanest woman in town. She didn't work. She didn't go to church. She would just sit in a rocking chair on her porch, smoking cigarettes and drinking beer. Every once in a while, she'd curse at kids dumb enough to get too close to the house. The only thing Mama would ever say about it was that some families were hit harder than others when the Prichards left town. 

"What's your daddy got to do with--"

"I'm a Prichard, Jimmy!"

I'd come to expect a lot of hogwash when it came to Sue-Marie, but I hadn't expected that. "You think you're a Prichard?"

"I don't think, Jimmy! I am a Prichard. I've got to be. It all makes sense. There's only two topics ya never bring up to my mama: My daddy and the Prichard family."

"The Prichards left town a long time ago, though. How could any of them be your daddy? Your mama wasn't even born, yet." I knew I would regret scrutinizing one of Sue-Marie's obvious fantasies. 

Sue-Marie sighed with exasperation. "One of 'em must've come back for awhile. I don't know! My mama don't say much 'bout it, but she said somethin' a few nights ago when she was drunk 'bout a special place my daddy took her on the Prichard farm."

"Where?"

"I ain't tellin' ya anymore than that! You've gotta come see it for yourself."

I glanced past her towards the ominous farmhouse in the distance. Nana's warnings rang in my mind, and a cold dread danced across my forehead. "I--"

As if sensing my fear, Sue-Marie reassured me again: "Just really fast, Jimmy! I jus' wanna show you it, then we can head right home."

"Promise?"

"Cross my heart," she vowed. "Would I lie to you?"

We rode our bicycles onto the abandoned Prichard farm, and I immediately wanted to turn around. There was an oppressive nothingness in the air. No birds sang. No crickets chirped. It felt like we had entered a dome of silence surrounding the land. 

How long had it been since this farm had hosted life? Were we the first? I didn't like to think about it too long. I just wanted to see whatever it was that Sue-Marie wanted to show me, so I could pedal myself back home to safety. 

I saw her wind her bicycle around the back of the dilapidated barn and vanish. I followed slowly. With a swing of her leg, she hopped off her bicycle and let it drive off by itself a few feet before crashing into the dirt. Her back was to me, and she was walking, almost reverently, towards an ancient stone well beneath a large boxelder tree.

I squeezed the brakes of my bicycle and slowed to a halt several feet behind her. I felt safer sitting on my bike, ready to ride off as quickly as needed, but I knew Sue-Marie would complain. I dismounted my getaway and gently propped it up on its kickstand before walking to Sue-Marie's side. 

"Here it is," she whispered. 

"Are you serious? This is it?"

She aimed her crooked smile at me again, and I glanced away in discomfort. "This is the place my mama said she met my daddy. She said he was waitin' right here for her, and he told her 'bout the Prichard's secret: their wishin' well."

"This well grants wishes, huh?" I tried to hide my exasperation, but she could sense my disbelief.

“I’m tellin’ ya: It works, Jimmy!” She pointed at the old Prichard well with a dirt-crusted finger. “You toss a coin in and make a wish. Anythin’ you want, Jimmy! It’ll come true in seven days! That's what my daddy said.”

I shook my head. My temper was rising, and my tolerance for Sue-Marie's lies had been exhausted. I raised a scrutinizing eyebrow and growled: “Sue-Marie, you lie like a rug!”

"What?" Sue-Marie clutched her face in exaggerated disbelief. Closing the gap between us in a single step, she glared down at me. She was two inches taller than I. Mama said that girls were taller than boys at my age, but one day I'd be the one lookin' down at them. "How dare you call me a liar!" The stench of cigarettes and dirty cat litter wafted from her clothing and knocked me backwards. 

"Sweet Jesus, Sue-Marie, when's the last time you took a bath? You could charm a skunk!" For some reason, all the things I'd kept to myself came pouring out at once. It was a floodgate of resentment and frustration. 

Sue-Marie's face flushed and soon matched the color of her hair. "Y-You just shut up, Jimmy!" I could tell she was at a loss for words. Her embarassment transmuted into fury, and she started to roll up her flannel sleeves. I recognized this immediately. Sue-Marie had been sent home for fighting other kids at recess, and each time before she fought, she'd roll up her sleeves.

I gulped hard, but I held my face firm. Any sign of fear, especially elicited by a girl, would be the end of me. Before I could ready myself for a punch to the face, I saw the bruises. "What happened?" The questions left my mouth on instinct. 

All up Sue-Marie's arms were dark welts. A long healed scar ran up her left forearm, and there were a couple of tiny circular burn marks peppered between her freckles ascending both of her arms. In an instant, she yanked the sleeves back down, and she shot a wild glance at me--it was a mixture of anger and fear. "Why don't you mind your own damn business!"

I opened my mouth and then closed it again. No words came to me. The dome of silence around us began to fracture, and a crow cawed in the distance atop a lone scarecrow, crucified into the blighted fields. A murder answered its call. 

I turned towards my bicycle, finished with trying to be a good Christian. Someone else was going to have to be the saint of the town. "I'm goin' home."

“I swear it on my mama’s grave!” Sue-Marie raised her dirty hand to the air in a three-fingered tribute.

I whipped around and yelled, “Your mama ain’t dead, dummy!  

“She’s dead to me,” Sue-Marie rebutted.

“That ain’t the same! Now, I'm goin' home, and you better do the same 'fore your mama catches you out past curfew. There won’t be any lyin' yourself outta that one.”

Sue-Marie’s face darkened. “I ain’t a liar.”

I laughed out loudly. “Sue-Marie, you couldn’t tell the truth with a script.”

Her angry blue eyes began to water. “I’ll show you!” She rummaged through her overall pockets and produced a shiny quarter.

This surprised me. She was really going all out with this one. “Come on,” I gestured for her to stop. “Don’t throw away good money just to try and convince me.”

“Damn it, Jimmy! I ain’t lying to you!” Her voice was broken. For some reason, she needed me to believe her, and my bitterness became diluted with compassion. 

“Okay, okay,” I waved my hands in surrender. “The well grants wishes. I believe ya.”

Sue-Marie shook her head and bared her teeth at me.  “Now, who’s the liar?” She closed her eyes and muttered something too quietly for me to hear and tossed the quarter into the well.

I heard it bounce off the sides a few times with a metallic ping. It fell for a long time before it finally hit the water with a far off splash. I held my breath for a moment. For a moment, I doubted that I knew everything. For just a moment, seeing Sue-Marie’s earnest performance left me paralyzed and gawking at the ancient well for something fantastic. For just a single moment, that is. In the next moment, there was no puff of smoke. No genie appeared to grant us any wishes. Nothing. And the emptiness of reality made me feel stupid, then angry.

“You’re dumber than a sack o’ hair.” I was disgusted—not that she lied, but that I had allowed myself to be fooled by such an obvious fabrication. 

“You just wait and see, Jimmy,” Sue-Marie growled. Her eyes narrowed dangerously, and I felt my smallness before them. She really believed what she was saying. 

A shadow of wings flew across the ground before me, and I could hear the growing murder in the field. The leaves of the boxelder hissed as a slow wind passed through them like a ghost.

The stillness of the Prichard farm had been rippled by our presence. It felt like something was stirring around us; something that had been asleep for a long time.

A flutter of darkness pulled my attention to where a large crow perched itself upon the Prichard well--its black beady eye fixed on me. My heart thudded in my throat. 

Sue-Marie didn't move or even acknowledge the crow. She just stared at me with her mischievous, grotesque smile that chilled my arms. “You just wait and see." She almost whispered it. 

There was something behind her eyes. Some wild thing that made me climb quickly onto my bicycle and pedal as fast as I could away from her. She didn't follow me, though I caught myself glancing over my shoulder a couple of times.

I'm not sure what I expected to see--a crow? Maybe whatever had chased the Prichards away from their farm. Would it make me want to hang myself, too?

I pedaled harder, and the chain whizzed loudly in the gears beside my feet. A couple of stars poked their light through the world's dim ceiling when I glided my bicycle through our picket fence and ran inside the house. I didn't feel safe again until I locked the front door behind me. 

Mama made dinner, and we talked about our days. It pleased Mama to hear that I had been friendly to Sue-Marie, but I omitted the part of our little visit to the Prichard farm. By the time I was finished eating, I felt grounded and normal again. The world made perfect sense. 

When I went to bed, I wasn't angry with Sue-Marie anymore. I felt sorry for her. It was clear to me that all these fantasies were cries for help. She needed someone to listen to her. She needed someone to care. 

I shouldn't have yelled at her and said such mean things. "Tomorrow, you're gonna apologize." Not only that, but I would tell Mama about the bruises, and I would pray for Sue-Marie in church, except this time, mean it. After all, that's what a good Christian would do. 

Sue-Marie’s mama died a week later.