Page 83 of Possibly Texas

Not wanting to risk ruining our fun day, I let the topic die.

As we walked, Auggie gave me more backstory on the businesses and citizens of Possibly proper. As we walked towards The Pueblo, Auggie explained that the three buildings in a row with Blooms were empty. They were still waiting for some Possibilian to come up with a business plan and utilize their sweet location downtown.

We walked backwards past Mystic Molly’s tent where her sign proclaimed: “Bottle Caps Today!” Auggie had to explain that Molly could read the future in practically anything. Bottle caps. Dice. Toenail trimmings.

A quick search can lead to a new shelf of stories.

Try searching Lokepub on Google.

I didn’t ask any questions.

When we walked to the south end of town and made our way around Grandy’s, Auggie waved to the town philosopher as he sat on his cinderblocks and pondered…God knows what…but Grandy just stared off into space. Auggie wasn’t fazed by the rebuff.

“He’s obviously onto something now,” Auggie said excitedly.

Lovelorn Bridge Pass was empty—no lovesick teenager screaming a girl’s name and leaping into Susurrus Creek. Sofia was outside of the post office, apparently getting fresh air, when we passed by. She gave us a wave and a smile.

“Ghost hunting?” she asked loudly.

“Ghost hunting!” Auggie crowed back happily.

I just smiled, embarrassed that I was participating in such an odd Possibly legend.

We crossed Liberty Lane and walked behind the row of businesses that lined the street, waving again to Officer Hanning, Earl Dean, and Jasper once more. Within moments, we were back at Bend of the Road Graveyard. The whole first lap took three or four minutes, even going backwards.

Auggie lifted his water bottle, unscrewed the cap, and took a healthy drink, never once breaking stride. So, I mimicked his actions and took a drink of my water, too.

“Do you think,” I said as we walked and recapped our bottles, “that we could stop at Samuel’s and get a soda or something? Water will get boring.”

“Once you start the thirteen circles, you can’t stop,” Auggie warned me gravely, though his eyes twinkled mischievously. “If you stop, you have to start all over.”

“Wish I’d been told before we started,” I mumbled.

“Huh?” Auggie grinned.

“At least this won’t take long,” I said. “Pick up the pace.”

Auggie laughed at me and began walking backwards faster, so I matched his speed. Within moments, the two of us were laughing and practically running backwards. Zipping past the graveyard, The Pueblo, Blooms, Grandy’s—everywhere in downtown Possibly without paying mind to anyone we encountered. Our focus was solely on each other, our laughter, and making sure we didn’t run into anything. We made two more laps around Possibly—all without stumbling—before we slowed to a rigorous walk once more.

On our next lap, walking at our previous pace, Auggie explained that no one was certain where Starbuck’s pirate ship came from before it was converted into a coffee shop. It was just in downtown Possibly from the get-go. People assumed that maybe Susurrus Creek was once a raging river and the pirate ship had somehow been shipwrecked, but it was only a theory. No one could explain why a pirate ship would be sailing on a river in the middle of Texas so that it could even get shipwrecked there.

Grandy’s, Auggie explained on our fifth circle, was a similar story. No one who lived in town presently really knew the history of the gas station.

On the sixth and seventh circle, Auggie tried to explain Lovelorn Bridge Pass and where its legend originated. With a bit of defeat on his face, Auggie simply said that some legends around Possibly appear out of nowhere and people “just go with them.” I grinned at him and he told me to “be quiet.”

It was likely that someone once jumped off the bridge out of anguish or a broken heart following a romantic entanglement. After that, everyone just started mimicking that behavior and a legend was born. It was also just as likely that someone made up the legend and everyone simply believed it, but he couldn’t give me a solid answer for it.

Auggie could remember Lovelorn Bridge Pass’s legend for as long as he’d been in Possibly, so it was likely pretty old. The fact that people still observed it and participated in jumping off of it into Susurrus Creek from time to time spoke to its hold on the community. Then again, there wasn’t much to Possibly apart from its legends, so Possibilians tended to stick by them.

On our eighth and ninth circles, Auggie explained that Sofia Salazar had opened the post office and declared herself postmaster when she first came to town when she was a young woman. There had been no local service, so she saw a need and had the desire. She claimed the teal clapboard building down by the bridge and the creek and declared it a post office.

Everyone went along with it. It hurt no one. No one got much mail in Possibly anyway. Unless your name was Shirlene and you didn’t exist.

Circle ten was used to give me the history of Earl Dean, Officer Hanning, and Liberty Lane. It was a short story, so one circle was all that was required. Earl Dean decided one day that Liberty Lane needed to have rainbow bricks instead of boring asphalt. He got his pickaxe, went to Liberty Lane, and began hacking away at it. Officer Hanning—the only policeman in town—showed up, asked Earl Dean what he thought was doing, tearing up town property.

Earl Dean hadn’t even stopped hacking at the street as he said: “I’m making it prettier.” At a loss, Officer Hanning asked Amos and Jasper what they thought he should do about Earl Dean. Both men said: “If people don’t like it, they can go around. He ain’t hurtin’ nothin’.” So, Officer Hanning spent his days watching Earl Dean make Liberty Lane prettier, unless there was something more important going on downtown that he had to attend to each day.

No one in Possibly cared that Earl Dean wanted to make art out of Liberty Lane—in fact, many of them thought it would be beautiful once it was done—so Earl Dean was left to his art.