Page 103 of Possibly Texas

In fact, I didn’t mind at all.

Surely someone did though, right?

Then again, was I assuming offense for everyone else in town, when in reality, no one gave a damn if Levi Lee decided to march through town naked in all of his glory?

That was how Possibly operated after all—you do you and I’ll do me. Don’t bother me and I won’t bother you. If walking through town in a green-screen suit that showed off his assets far too well was what made Levi Lee happy—though I didn’t feel that was his reason for doing so—then everyone was going to allow it. In fact, Levi Lee seemed to be oblivious to his assets. To him, it was just natural to go about his business the way he did. He was always covered up, after all, so why should he assume that anyone would be bothered?

Why did I assume that?

Was I assuming people would be offended, or was I trying to avoid a distraction? Was I avoiding my own hidden thoughts Levi Lee made me think?

I shook my head to clear that train of thought from my head. When I’d ventured over to Sofia’s from Starbuck’s—when Levi Lee was still pressed up against its hull—I had two errands in mind. I’d completed one of them, so it was time to move onto the next. Levi Lee was a grown man who had lived in Possibly much longer than I. He could figure out the best way to present himself to the rest of the town without my help.

As I made my way from the post office, I decided to walk along the bank of Susurrus Creek. It might have been totally in my head, but walking along the creek seemed cooler than walking through town. The breeze seemed to glide over and rise up off the water a few degrees cooler. The sounds of the rushing water had a placebo effect as well. It sounded cool, so it made me feel cool.

That was dumb, I knew, but if something works, you don’t really question it. Walking along the bank of Susurrus Creek made the August sun more bearable, so I was going to go with it.

D’yer Mak’er by Led Zepplin was playing on the radio speakers around town and matched the warm, lazy mood of Possibly. Everyone who was out and about was shuffling slowly, doing all they could to avoid overexertion. Or they were strolling with long, happy—yet slow—steps to their destination, letting summer know it hadn’t gotten the best of them.

Jasper was sitting in the tram car at the end of the tracks on Liberty Lane by the edge of Susurrus Creek. Instead of reading his book, he was fanning himself with a magazine, appearing as if he wanted to melt and slide out of the tram to a puddle on the ground.

“Ain’t been this hot in a witch’s share of summers,” he said to me as I walked by and smiled at him.

“It’s bad, yeah,” I said with a chuckle.

What seemed like it was becoming an ever-present feature, a trickle of sweat was snaking its way between my shoulder blades, moving south quickly, under my shirt.

“No month can last longer than thirty-one days,” Jasper said. “August will leave when it has worn out its welcome.”

How to respond to that eluded me, so I simply nodded and chuckled in agreement. Jasper went back to slumping in his seat and fanning himself, and I continued on my way north along the creek. As I strolled across Liberty Lane, I spotted Earl Dean and Officer Hanning. They had changed their routine.

Instead of Officer Hanning leaning against the side of AMOR, watching Earl Dean pickaxe the street, they were both sitting outside of AMOR, their backs propped up along the wall. Their legs were stretched out before them lazily, effectively blocking the sidewalk. Each of them held a bottle of soda, taking leisurely sips, engaged in an easy conversation about God knew what. I’d never really seen Earl Dean speak to anyone, other to greet them in passing, but it made sense that if he would have a conversation with anyone in town, it would be Officer Hanning.

They spent most of their days together, after all.

And it’s sensible to make an easy friendship with the man who refuses to arrest you for an arrestable offense.

I gave them both a jovial, but reserved, wave, and they returned the gesture. They were in the shade of the building, so they managed to be a bit more enthusiastic with their actions. I didn’t change course to approach them and see what they were talking about in the shade. The red barn further up the creek was the only destination for me.

As I passed the row of buildings that lined the north side of Liberty Lane, D’yer Mak’er faded away and the sounds of a different song tickled at my ears. I couldn’t quite make out what song Auggie had playing inside the barn, even though the doors were open, inviting the sunshine inside. As I made my way across the grassy area behind the buildings on Liberty Lane, and then up the last patch of road to the barn’s entrance, I could make out the song. It was Pale Blue Eyes by Velvet Underground.

Auggie’s hammering added percussion to the song, permeating the air just outside the barn with a melancholy medley. When I first recognized the song, and the unenthusiastic hammering, I almost decided to hook a left and book it to Jack’s place. Giving him the mail and then hiding away in my room, clad only in boxers and reading my sign language books, was a preferable alternative. However, I had told myself I would complete my two tasks before the day was over.

I was outside of the barn. I could see Auggie at his worktable at the back of the barn. His head was down and he was focusing on whatever he had on the table before him, oblivious to my long shadow creeping into the barn. If I ran away, it would only be harder to come back later. So, I steeled my spine and stepped up to the door. Unsure if I should announce my presence verbally, and startle him, I reached up tentatively and knocked on the doorframe.

Auggie faltered, hammered twice more, then put the hammer down on the table. He turned towards the barn doors with a smile on his face. When the sunlight caught the lower half of the diamond on his forehead, it seemed to glitter. It made me want to smile, but I knew that a smile might not be welcome. It might be too assumptive.

When our eyes met, Auggie’s smile disappeared. It didn’t slide from his face with disappointment or trepidation, it simply vanished. His face was a blank mask, and he was staring through me with unseeing eyes. That pained me more than if he had scowled or turned up his nose. Auggie looked, simply, indifferent.

“Hey,” I said.

He didn’t respond right away; he continued to stare through me.

“What?” he asked robotically.

“I came to apologize,” I said with a shrug. “I wanted to tell you that I’m sorry.”

“Okay. Good.”