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The Outskirts: (The Outskirts Duet Book 1) by T.M. Frazier (7)

Chapter Nine

Sawyer

My mom used to say that ‘everything looks better in the morning light.’ I was positive, as I looked out onto the murky ground surrounding my camper, that in this particular case, she was wrong.

Oh, so very, very wrong.

In the light of day, I wasn’t just on wet ground or a little mud or even NEXT to the swamp.

I was in the SWAMP.

The entire lot, which I couldn’t tell where it ended or began, was covered in brush and overgrowth. I was surprised at how well Josh had navigated the camper into the only tiny triangle of earth without at least an inch of water that covered most of the ground from the camper to the small dirt path leading up to the house across the way. Although, it was really more of a shack than an actual house. I couldn’t even detect a paint color unless faded, rotted wood siding could be considered a color.

The roof hung low over the drooping front porch like a disapproving eyebrow, dripping with a mixture of shaker style shingles, all different tones from light to dark like they’d been replaced over time, as needed.

Small concrete block pilings under the house looked as if they were keeping the house a few inches above the murk and mud swimming beneath.

It looked like a proper murder shack.

Since the camper didn’t have any water to hook up to, I cleaned off the best I could with a wash cloth and a gallon of water I’d purchased at a gas station so I could conserve the water in the small tank. I got dressed quickly and the second I closed the door of the trailer, I felt his presence before I even saw him. I turned around slowly and sure enough, there he was.

Finn.

Shirtless.

Finn’s muscles rippled as he carried what looked like vehicle parts from the back of the house down to the edge of the water behind it. His tanned skin glistened with sweat, beading up and trickling down the taut muscles of his expansive back.

My jaw literally dropped.

I’d always been taught that the body was a weakness. A human’s vulnerability, but I saw none of that with Finn. Back at home, I’d have been told to look away and pray for that person whose morals were obviously corrupt enough to wear such little clothing.

But I wasn’t at home.

Using that logic alone, I allowed myself to watch Finn for the next few moments as he pushed a metal boat off of a trench-style ramp that had been dug into the shore. Once he was far enough into the swampy waters he pulled a cord and a small motor zinged to life.

Finn paused like he could sense me staring. He slowly turned around. His blue eyes shimmered under the light of the morning and in no way matched the frown set on his face.

I tore my eyes from his and trudged through the wet mud hoping to stumble upon the main area of town.

I’d just leapt over a particularly mean looking puddle when Josh rolled up beside me in her monstrous police truck, towing Rusty behind her. “Where you heading, Sawyer?” she asked leaning out of her window.

“Town. I think.”

“Any particular place in mind?”

“I was going to see about getting a job and some supplies.” I lifted up my skirt to my ankle to show her my muddied white tennis shoes. “And maybe invest in some better footwear.”

“People we don’t got a lot of,” Josh said. “Mud on the other hand?” Josh pushed open the passenger door from the inside. “Mud we got plenty of. Come on up. I’ll give you a lift.”

I climbed up in the cab and after Josh maneuvered Rusty next to Blue, setting her free, she hopped back in and together we started toward town.

Josh turned to me and looked me over. “Aren’t you hot in those clothes?” she asked, nodding to my long-sleeved button-down shirt and baggy khaki skirt that brushed my ankles and conservative nurse-style white sneakers. “I know it’s early, but it’s over ninety degrees already. You are gonna catch yourself a mean case of heat stroke if you stay outdoors too long wearing that. My sister Emily had a bad case of it when we were in high school. She had to be put in the hospital because she was puking blood like an overheated vampire.”

Was I hot? “Yes, I’m hot. Sweltering is more like it.”

“Can I ask you something?” Josh leaned her elbow against her window.

Sure.”

“Is there any particular reason you’re covered head to toe in ninety-degree heat?”

“I come from a…” I searched for the right word. “Conservative family. This is how I was expected to dress.”

“You could be THE most conservative person on the planet but a few days in Outskirts will have an eighty-year-old pant suit wearing Republican wearing a string bikini in no time.”

I laughed. “I can see why.” I pulled at my high-necked shirt to allow some air through.

“This conservative family of yours. They around?” she asked, keeping her eyes on the road.

“No. Not anymore.”

“Then you might want to visit the thrift store in town. They’ve got some decent stuff and it doesn’t cost a week’s wages. You should check it out. Bebe is the owner. She’s always there. You’ll like her.”

“Thanks,” I said, thinking that new clothes sounded great, but getting a job, a way to earn money, was my first priority.

On the way into town every business we passed, no matter how scattered, were mostly closed with boarded up windows.

“Welcome to The Outskirts,” Josh said. “Home of the boarded-up building and abandoned…” we passed what looked like it used to be a car dealership with CLOSED spelled out on its small marquee by the street. “…everything.”

“What happened to this place?” I asked as we passed a housing development with a crumbling fancy brick gate announcing it as Heritage Acres, where there was nothing but long grass behind it and a half-built guard house. White piping stuck up from the ground every fifty feet or so as far as the eye could see, surrounded by tall weeds.

“What DIDN’T happen to this place?” Josh scoffed. “Throw in a couple of brain eaters and we’d be the complete zombie apocalypse. Nothing but swamp land and unfulfilled dreams.” Josh sighed and looked out the window as if she was seeing the town with my eyes. “This big shot developer came through and promised that Outskirts was going to be the next Disneyworld. A lot of the townsfolk drank the Kool-Aid he was pouring. They used every dollar they had and even dollars they didn’t have to make improvements to their businesses to prepare for the rush of people they were told were coming to town. Parking lots were built, stores, and even hotels started going up everywhere. Residents even sold off big chunks of their farms and land and refinanced their houses to afford the life they were promised was coming, along with all the tourists’ money they expected to fall down around them like rain.” Josh scoffed. “Aries, that was the name of the developer, started building housing developments where a single-family house was going to cost more than what you’d normally pay for an entire farm out here. But people bought into it and Aries did manage to build and finish the water park, but just as it was set to open he picked up and left. That was it. He left us with nothing but excuses about market conditions and a graveyard of half built projects and homes that weren’t worth half of the new amount of their mortgages. People lost their livelihoods. Some lost everything.”

“So what did they do?” I asked.

“A lot of people packed up and left to find work elsewhere or move in with relatives in other towns. But a lot of people stayed too. Small town determination is not something you want to fuck with. People here do not take kindly to being forced from their homes, so they stuck it out best they could and managed best they could. Most people are still here now. Shaken up, a hell of a lot more jaded, but…still here.” She talked with a sense of pride in her voice.

“What about you? How were you affected?” I asked, leaning closer to the air conditioning vent in the dashboard.

“Me?” Josh asked, waving her hand in the air. “I was fine. Rent hadn’t had the chance to change much and I didn’t sell my soul to Aries like some folks did. My parents,” she blew out a breath, “they’re another story. They remortgaged their house to expand and turn it into a bed and breakfast. Their house wasn’t worth a third of what they owed by the time all was said and done.”

“So they lost their house?” I asked. Even though I didn’t know Josh’s family I felt bad for them nonetheless.

“They were about to until another investor bought their note from the bank and offered to rent the house back to them at a ridiculously cheap price. I don’t exactly know how or why they can afford to do it and still make money, but I guess it works for them and I’m not one to question something that doesn’t need questioning. I’m just grateful because my parents, and a whole lot of other people in this town in the same position, would’ve had to move on to greener pastures.” Josh turned the wheel. “This is Main Street.”

Main Street was a wide road with small flat buildings on both sides without a traffic light to be seen. The street itself looked as if it had been paved at one time, but was now littered with crumbling pot holes and a thick layer of dirt and mud. The yellow line striping was barely visible underneath.

“Wow,” I said, taking it all in. Suddenly I felt deflated. “Do you think anyone’s even hiring?” I pointed to a gas station where the pumps had been removed and the windows painted over in thick black brush strokes.

Josh shrugged. “Not sure, but if anyone’s looking for help it would be Critter’s. It’s the bar in town. Only restaurant too. It’s next to the coin laundry. You’ll like Critter. Everyone does. He’s been here his whole life. Shit, he practically IS Outskirts. I can guarantee you that some of the grease in those fryers is older than I am.”

She looked over to me. “How old are you anyway?” she asked.

“As of a few days ago, I’m twenty-one,” I said.

“Well, you look younger than that. It must be the no makeup thing,” Josh said.

I placed my hand on my cheek.

“Not in a bad way,” Josh clarified. “You don’t need anything covering that face. It’s just that most girls our age, I’m twenty-five, by the way, cake that shit on these days like they can’t let people see what they really look like or they’ll melt.”

A dented sign on the road displayed an arrow pointing us in the direction of the Outskirts Sun-N-Fun water park. Someone had spray painted a circle with a line through it.

“Listen, about Finn,” Josh said, changing the subject. “I apologize about him leaving you the way he did. He wasn’t always like that.”

“You don’t have to explain anything to me,” I said. Finn may have been right across the way but I’d decided he was a non-issue. I was going to pretend he wasn’t there and hopefully he’d do the same when it came to me.

“I know, but I just wanted to let you know that he used to be… he used to be something else.” Josh looked out the window as if she was watching a memory replaying in her mind. Her tone softened. “Someone else.”

“It doesn’t matter.” I shook my head. “I’ll be staying far, far away from his kind of something else. Well,” I amended, “about as far away as fifty feet or so can get me, anyway.”

“Just know that it’s complicated. He’s complicated. AND he’s super private which doesn’t help any.” She flashed me a small smile. “I was in the eighth grade when my family moved here. My dad got a job as a construction supervisor at one of the subdivisions they were building. I was the only black kid in the entire school. Apparently, some people didn’t realize it was 2005 and still had a problem with a black girl attending school with white kids. Some big redneck bully wrote something nasty on my locker the first day. Some shit about telling me to go home to Africa. Poetic, right?”

She lifted her fingers off the wheel and inspected her nails before continuing, “Anyway, back then, when we were kids, Finn was the biggest. Both in personality and size. He played baseball. Pitcher actually. He was the most popular. He could get any girl he wanted, and trust me, they all threw their bony asses at him constantly. But on the day we met, not only did he talk to me, but he grabbed me by the hand and walked me to class. And then when the bell rang, he grabbed my hand again and walked me to the next one, and then the next one after that. When that same bully shouted something nasty at Finn for holding my hand, Finn pulled me to the front of the school where everyone was waiting for their buses,” she looked over to me, “and you know what he did?”

“Threw you in front of traffic?” I asked, raising my shoulders.

“He kissed me. Full on the lips. Right there in front of everyone. Teachers, students, the bully, his friends, everyone.” There was no mistaking the pride in her voice.

“Wow,” I said. And I meant it. Not because of the kindness of the act, but because I couldn’t imagine the Finn I’d met doing any of those things.

Josh was right, he really was a different person now.

“Kids could be cruel,” she said. “But I learned that day that they could also be brave. Because Finn? He was the bravest of them all.”

“So, you guys were an item then?” I asked, immediately regretting the personal nature of the question. “Sorry, that’s none of my…”

Josh rolled her eyes and shook her head. “Oh HELL no. We didn’t feel that way about each other, never have. But from that moment, we were inseparable. He dragged me along with him everywhere he went and even introduced me into his little group of juvenile delinquent friends, Miller and Jackie. The four of us? We raised some hell back in the day.”

“COPPER COPPER ONE NINER COME IN,” Josh’s radio squeaked as a man’s voice came through the static.

Josh pursed her lips. “Speaking of Miller,” she muttered, pressing a button on her shoulder. “Miller, I will call you back.” She was about to put both hands back on the wheel when she appeared to change her mind, pressing the button again and holding it. “And stop playing with the damned radio!”

“TEN FOUR. SEX MACHINE OUT.”

“That stupid shit,” Josh said, but when she turned toward her window I could see in the reflection that she was trying not to laugh.

“What you said about Finn sounds great,” I started. “But there is no way that the guy you talk about is the same guy who barged into my camper and threatened me in the middle of the night.”

“He did what?” Josh asked through her teeth. Her nostrils flared and her knuckles paled as her grip on the steering wheel tightened. She took a deep breath and flashed me a tight forced smile. “You don’t worry about a thing. I’ll take care of Finn Hollis. You’re not going anywhere.” She winked.

We pulled into a small gravel parking lot. “That’s exactly what I told him.”

* * *

CRITTER’S LOUNGE announced the name of the bar on a hand painted sign, complete with drip marks on every other letter. The building itself was a small rectangle with low ceilings. It was so close to the road that a regular compact car would barely be able to park in front of it. Josh’s truck stuck out several feet into the street which didn’t seem to matter since I hadn’t seen another car on the road the entire way there.

Next to the bar was the COIN LAUNDRY and next to that was a book store although I didn’t have a chance to check to see if it was open because Josh was already out of the truck and waving me inside.

“Come on, I’ll walk you in and introduce you,” Josh said. And although the sign on the door was turned to CLOSED Josh pushed it open, then walked right in. I followed.

Once my eyes adjusted to the dark space I took in my surroundings. The bar was much bigger on the inside than it appeared from the outside. Plastic flags advertising different brands of beer hung below the wooden bar. Hundreds of photos - some in color, some in black and white - hung in frames covering most of the available wall space above worn booths with mismatched tables between them. Some were dark and metal, some maroon with a light wood trim, and some black and white checkered like you’d see in a diner. The bar in the middle was large and U-shaped, taking up most of the space from the right wall well into the center of the room. The stools pushed in underneath it were all mismatched as well. Some had backs and some were just simple black rounded cushions with patches so thin you could still make out the tears underneath.

It smelled like stale cigarettes and fried fish; although it sounds like a horrible combination I didn’t mind it much. There was something comforting about the place. Inviting. Warm even.

Maybe it was the wood paneling on the walls or the chalk sidewalk sign leaning up against the bar that read:

“Specials: We ain’t got none. ONLY BAR IN TOWN.”

The ceilings were low, made even lower by the thousands of strands of string hanging from between the ceiling tiles. At the end of each string was a paperclip or a safety pin holding a torn napkin or post it note. “What are those?” I asked, pointing to the ceiling.

Josh looked up. “It’s a tradition. Been doing it since before you or I was born. People write down a memory of their time here and the date. Some are engagements. Weddings. First dates. Highest poker score.” She pointed to the corner where a small table was set up with two fast food dinner baskets. One held torn papers and the other held string. An industrial looking stapler sat between them.

“All good memories?” I asked, spinning around to take in the thousands and thousands of notes above my head.

Josh shook her head. “No. Doesn’t have to be good. Just significant,” she said, pointing to one closer to the end of the wall that read:

CAUGHT HIM WITH HIS TONGUE DOWN MY SISTER’S THROAT…AGAIN.

-Bessy, June 1976

“Have you ever made one?” I asked, standing on my tiptoes to read more of the fascinating notes. Some of them were downright funny.

SHE ACCIDENTALLY BRUSHED IT UNDER THE TABLE WITH HER FOOT.

-Justin, Age 15, August 1984.

Underneath was a note added in someone else’s handwriting:

KICKED JUSTIN’S ASS FOR TRYING TO GET MY DAUGHTER TO TOUCH HIS TINY TWIG DICK.

–HER DAD, August, 1984.

“I’ve written my fair share,” Josh said. “Locals usually keep ours in the same place. Mine are mostly over there in the corner,” she said, pointing to the far wall. “I think my last one was something like TAKING ANOTHER DRUNK TO SLEEP IT OFF IN THE TANK TONIGHT. Actually, I think MOST of mine say that, just with different dates. Well, all of them except my first one,” she reached up and turned one over.

MADE FRIENDS WITH A CRAZY WHITE BOY. -Brittany, AKA Josh, 2006.

“Is there a name for them?” I asked, standing on my tiptoes to read them.

“We call them tings.”

Tings?”

“Yeah, I’m not exactly sure where they got the name from but whoever started calling them that, it stuck.” Josh’s radio beeped and she held it up to her ear while the dispatcher on the other end talked in codes and numbers. “What do I look like, a fucking taxi service?” she barked into the radio.

“No, you look more like a double D to me,” came a man’s voice on the other end followed by a blast of static. “Come on Josh, just come get me,” he whined.

“Oh hell, no! You did not just say that, Miller,” Josh said, flipping her hair over her shoulder. “You gonna be okay?” she asked me. “I gotta run this…call.”

“I’ll be fine,” I assured her. “Thanks for the lift.”

Josh left just as the kitchen doors swung open and out stepped an older man who I assumed must be Critter. He was tall, just under six feet with a larger than average build. His hair was stark white, parted just off the center, long enough to brush the top of his ears. His traditional mustache matched the color of his hair. It was well groomed and thick, slightly longer on the sides stopping a little past his bottom lip. His face was tanned and heavily lined with age, although not so much to hide that he was still a handsome man and must have been quite a head-turner when he was a younger man. His deep amber eyes were hooded by dark, almost black, eyebrows which were just as bushy as his mustache.

He looked up and dropped the glass in his hand. It fell to the floor but didn’t break, rolling to a stop against the leg of a nearby chair.

“It’s you.”