Paying the Piper

Eighteen, Part 1: Ten Minutes

Rhia produced a flashlight and we picked our way across the field, keeping the hill behind their house on our right side. We moved southward, and in the distance, I could already see the glow of the fire.

"We could have driven," Rhia said, "but it takes away from the atmosphere when we're this close anyway. There's always somewhat of a hike to get to the fire. Just enough to make things a bit spooky in the night."

Hannah grumbled that by next year she'd have her license, so she could make the choice to drive or not. Her boots were probably chafing her, so I was glad I had been adamant about wearing my own shoes. My ankle was throbbing slightly since the uneven ground was making it bend in ways that weren't comfortable.

The cold penetrated the leggings Hannah lent me, but I could nearly see the flames now. I imagined their warmth roasting the front side of me.

"Earlier, was that your dad?" I asked. Even as I asked, I inwardly moaned about the stupid question. He obviously wasn't their brother; who else would he be?

Rhia held out a mock microphone to Hannah. "Ms. Janowick, could you tell the sordid tale of the Janowick Town Drama?"

Hannah entered the role immediately. She tossed back her long blond hair and waved to the fake camera. "Well, Barbara Walters, my birth mother died when I was but a precious infant. Left to fend for a baby on his own, my dad swiftly found a new woman in the throes of an ugly divorce with a little toddler of her own. He figured two kids couldn't be much worse than one, and he joined his baby to hers. Rhia's dad decided to drink away his woes, so her mom got full custody, the farm, but no child support. And that, Ms. Walters, is how she comes to be the only black woman in this town. And an aspiring alcoholic."

As Rhia chased Hannah for that last remark, I pondered. Their story reminded me a bit of Ryland's family story. But it did explain why Rhia and Hannah were so close: they'd grown up as sisters since they were babies. 

We were still at least one hundred yards away when Hannah realized she had forgotten her phone at home. 

Rhia put a hand on her hip. "Do you really need it?"

She gave her sister a look. "It's like the books you keep next to you for no good reason other than they're part of your family at this point."

Groaning, Rhia told Hannah she could go back by herself. "We'll just meet up with you again at the fire."

Hannah entrusted her cookie to me so it wouldn't crumble and ran back towards their house. How she ran in those boots, I'd never know. "Meet you over there!" she called back. 

Together, Rhia and I resumed our journey across the field. Her flashlight danced along the ground, skittering like a fleeing mouse. Two sets of feet crunched through the dead grass, and every now and then, a blade reached high enough up to poke me through my leggings. 

I was glad we were walking over instead of driving. Our slower pace allowed me to mentally prepare myself and begin to make out whose figures already circled the fire.

As we drew closer, I realized there was not just one fire, but actually three set up in a rough triangle. It looked like senior boys stood around one, with junior boys around another. The girls from both grades loitered at the third. Even being from both grades, the girls' fire held roughly the same number of people as either of the other two fires. 

Cars lined the street, but no one had parked in the fields; everyone had walked to the base of the hill. Some people had even brought coolers filled with pop and hot dogs to roast. Students milled about the overgrown field, half-heartedly picking up twigs and branches, and adding them to the mound already collected in the middle of the three fires.