Page 37 of The Wicker King

August slumped in his seat and sulked. This was the worst road trip ever. When Jack reached toward him, August jerked away. “What?!”

“You have something on your face. Let me get it,” Jack said, looking away from the road for a moment.

August frowned warily but sat still while Jack rubbed his face with the ball of his thumb. “Christ, you’re such a child,” Jack muttered.

August didn’t dignify that with a response.

DEPTH

They wound up not having to dig at all. It was on a farmer’s property in a well.

An ordinary well.

“Try not to breathe what’s down there,” August warned just before Jack climbed in without a word. He watched as Jack sank into the gloom. August would later say that this took less than a moment.

When he pulled Jack up, the rope heavy in his hands, he looked to see what Jack gripped tightly between his blackened fingers, wet with dirt. The token worth a hundred miles. The Rapturous Blue.

It was a rock.

Gray.

Plain.

Nothing.

RAPTUROUS BLUE

Jack let him hold it as he drove them back home. “Try not to look directly at it. It’s too bright,” he’d said as he gingerly handed over the rock, which he’d wrapped in his scarf.

August said nothing. He just took the rock and held it close. He didn’t unwrap it; he didn’t try to look at it. He just held it and tried not to cry. How did Jack even know where to go? Did it even matter?

He thought about Roger’s phone number scrawled messily on a scrap of paper shoved into his desk drawer.

He thought about the look on Jack’s face when he’d pushed him out of his car and said he didn’t need him anymore.

He thought about just going home and sleeping forever.

It began to snow. It was almost Christmas.

CHROME

The drive passed quickly in silence. When they got back into town, Jack pulled into August’s driveway and shut off the truck. August handed over the Rapturous Blue and Jack placed it gently in his lap.

“Thanks for, you know … coming with. I know you didn’t have to.”

August shrugged. They sat silently in the dark.

“Jack … I…,” he started to say. But Jack wouldn’t look at him. “Are your parents going to be home for Christmas?” he asked. It wasn’t what he’d planned to say.

“Yeah. My dad called when you were sleeping and said he planned to come home. He even said he’s bringing a tree!” Jack sounded happy now.

Good.

“Okay,” August said as he unlocked the door and stepped out. “Get some sleep. Tomorrow, we’re going out into the field.”

He didn’t hear Jack drive away until he’d closed his house’s door safely behind him.

THE FIELD