Page 32 of Possibly Texas

“Bye, Jack!” Auguste announced happily before skipping away. “See you later!”

Jack looked over at me.

“Uh, see you later.” I gave him a quick wave, then dashed away after Auguste.

Auguste literally skipped down the road away from Jack’s house, going in the direction of the graveyard. At first, I was embarrassed to be jogging alongside some boy who was skipping—especially since he was wearing bright orange clam diggers, flip-flops, and his ever-present tank top. The pearl necklace at his throat was another odd touch. However, I reminded myself that clothes should be experimented with, and Auguste wasn’t self-conscious, so why should I be embarrassed?

When we got to the fork in the road at the edge of the graveyard, Auguste came to a sudden halt, and I nearly ran into him. He chuckled as I stumbled and grabbed onto his shoulder to keep from landing ass up in the road. He placed his hands on my shoulders and helped me stay upright until it was obvious that I wasn’t going to topple over. When we were both safe and secure, standing there, he turned to look at the graveyard.

“Bend of the Road Graveyard,” he said.

“Yeah?” I shrugged.

“It was here before the town was even founded.” Auguste continued. “They say that when the founders of Possibly showed up to this land, there were these headstones and trees.”

“Okay.”

“They really liked this area by the creek, but there was this graveyard,” he said. “But, instead of being jerks and relocating the dead—or just the headstones—or building over it completely, they just built around it.”

“I mean,” I began, “the town’s not that big. Couldn’t have been that big of a decision, right?”

Auguste laughed. Like his melodic, though deep, voice, his laugh also sounded like a song. It had a specific rhythm and cadence that was pleasant and inviting. He was a friendly, cheerful guy.

“They didn’t know how big the town would get at the time, though, right?” he asked. “So, it was still nice of them to decide to build the roads around it. Just in case.”

“Sure. I mean, that sounds fair.”

“They say that it’s possibly haunted,” Auguste said, then realized his phrasing. “Hah. Possibly.”

I chuckled.

“Um,” I started, “I, uh, saw some—body—here the other morning. It was kind of weird.”

“Yeah?” He asked.

“Yeah.” I nodded. “Somebody in, like, a black robe with a hood. They just appeared out from under the tree, went and stood by that headstone there—”

I pointed at the headstone.

“—and then disappeared back under the tree. I mean, it was misty, or foggy, or whatever, that morning, but it seemed like they appeared and disappeared—”

“That’s Malia,” Auguste said.

“What?”

“She’s a performance artist.” Auguste explained. “At least three times a week, she comes to the graveyard and mourns at a different grave. She doesn’t want any of the dead to feel like they’ve been forgotten. It’s totally harmless.”

I stared at him for a minute. Harmless? Sure. Weird? Absolutely.

“You know it’s not really a graveyard, right?” I grinned. “I mean, it’s not even connected to a church.”

“Why does that matter?” Auguste winked. “Come on!”

Again, Auguste was skipping along the road, cutting to the right to take us into the main part of downtown Possibly. Chuck E’s in Love by Rickie Lee Jones was the song of the day at AMOR. It grew louder as Auguste skipped and I jogged towards Liberty Lane. Even when more people came into view, and actually see the two of us, Auguste didn’t stop skipping. Self-conscious he was not. So, I found myself wondering why he had been so reticent to look up at me or other people the day before. His head had been down a lot, his eyes on the ground as he had walked away from me at The Pueblo.

Once more, I found myself nearly crashing into Auguste when he stopped suddenly at the end of Liberty Lane. I didn’t stumble like I had by the graveyard, but Auguste still chuckled at my surprise at the sudden stop. I just grinned shyly as he spread his arms out wide, as if presenting the street and all its majesty to me.

“Liberty Lane,” he said. “It’s not really, like, the main street of town or anything—”