Page 24 of Never Too Late

“I guess,” I hesitated.

“Were you touching the well?”

“What does that have to do with anything?”

“Relax, Evelyn. We’re not in the honeymoon period yet. There’s no harm done.”

“Okay, what the hell are you two talking about?”

I was used to their babbling without any sense or reason, but this was weird even for them.

“Okay, Sophie, it’s time you learn something,” Mrs. McConnell started and turned slightly my way.

“Grace, don’t,” my grandmother demanded.

“If you want to prevent it, then she needs to know.”

“Prevent what?”

“So, by the Indian’s teachings, there are four moons in December and each has its significance, but the ones that are truly magical are honeymoon and rose moon,” Mrs. McConnell continued with her story to my grandmother’s great dismay. “When those moons are out, you need to avoid the well at all costs, otherwise you may make a wish that could change your life and you’re not ready for it. No matter how much your heart wants it.”

“Hunh?” I looked at them. I didn’t get what they were on about.

“Oh, for fuck’s sake,” my grandmother muttered. She then leaned forward, poured herself another drink, took a sip, and pinned me with her eyes. “The town was established in 1858.”

“I know that,” I said. And I did. Everyone who lived in Hopeful knew its history.

After sending me a glare, she continued, “What you don’t know is that in 1875 the townspeople tore down some boards and they found a well. It was in the center of the town. Somehow, they built around it, never once touching the earth or stones that were surrounding it. It went unnoticed for almost twenty years. They shaped it to look as it does today, the only thing that changed is the bucket. They replaced the wooden one with the steel we have today.”

“Okay.” I drew out the word.

After a warning glare, she again continued, “Over the years, the town folks noticed an unusual behavior of the female population in December. They would come to the well, place their hands on it and murmured some words. Over the months that followed, their lives would change. And it usually involved a man. Most of the murmuring to the stone happened during those moons. When they asked the women what they were murmuring, they confessed they were making a wish. It was usually a wish they themselves weren’t even fully aware they had, until they muttered it. They also said they didn’t continuously come to make it. The stones were drawing them in.”

After her final words, we were quiet for a moment.

“I don’t get it, what are you trying to tell me?” I broke the silence.

“The well has magic,” Mrs. McConnell whispered while giving jazz-hands before she burst into loud laughter.

“You can’t honestly believe that?” I said horrified. They were more drunk than I thought if they were spewing shit like that.

“It doesn’t matter if we believe it or not, it matters if you do,” my grandmother said seriously.

“Well, I don’t.” I laughed to break the tension. “And you need to lay off the bottle. I think you had enough for one night.”

“Just do me a favor, girl.”

I looked at her.

“Don’t go near the well with a wish in your mind, and especially during night.”

“And why are you so scared if I make a wish now?”

“Because you’re not ready,” she whispered. “I can see it in you. You want to get out of here, and if you make that wish, you never will.”

“I don’t want to get out. I love it here.” I defended myself. And I didn’t. In fact, every day, I loved Hopeful more and more. It was getting hard thinking about the day I had to leave.

“Just promise me you won’t make a wish until it’s time, Sophie.”