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"Yes, I mean once you get back in your vehicle and head out of town. Are you going on a vacation?"
"Something like that. But I haven't decided on a destination." He gazed at me almost like he knew me. "All I know is that after seeing those blue eyes of yours, all of the world's wonders are going to be disappointing."
I pushed down a smile as I took his change from the drawer.
"I guess you've heard that before." He held out his large hand for the change. Inadvertently, my fingertips grazed the skin on his palm. It was a casual touch, something that happened almost any time I put change in someone's hand, only this time it felt different. It was just because he was a stranger, and we rarely had new people in the store, I told myself.
Even though the transaction was over, he lingered at the counter. He was a big guy, who looked as if his version of fun always included danger, a guy who would certainly make some of the more suspicious and less welcoming Butterfield citizens nervous.
After a long moment of watching me with his unusual amber eyes, he lifted his bag in the air. "Thanks."
His dog spun in circles and barked as he walked out the door. Patty scurried out of her hiding spot and joined me at the front window. We watched with curious interest as the guy and his dog crossed the street to the rundown park in the center of town. His t-shirt hugged his impressive shoulders. Black scrolls of ink seemed to cover every inch of his skin. The dog trotted along beside him, looking a little too cute and fuzzy for the rather wild looking man walking next to him. It was hard not to smile about the unlikely pair.
He sat down on the bottom step of the pavilion, an ornate wood and iron structure that was once the pride of the town but that now looked like some ancient ruin from a former civilization. His dog sat next to him and immediately rested a round paw on his forearm to ask for a treat.
"I wonder how long he'll be here," Patty said with a dreamy hush in her tone.
"I imagine for as long as it takes to eat a roast beef sandwich."
3
FYNN
She was right. For a premade sandwich, the roast beef was good. I handed Boone the last piece of meat, wadded up the wrapper and stood up from the step. The wood creaked back into place like a seat cushion reviving on a couch. Smears of white paint still clung to the intricate dome of the massive gazebo, but for the most part the structure was stripped down to splintery wood and rotting iron. It was losing its fight against the elements, and invasive weeds were winding their way through the open spaces.
The town square was a massive rectangle of land that stretched along the entire main street and ended at a road that led past the last block of shops. It was, without a doubt, the saddest park in the world. The fountain was covered in rich teal green patina, but it was hard to see it beneath the layer of slimy algae that oozed out of every carved crevice. A thin trickle of water streamed out of the top tier and then disappeared into the larger bowl beneath. The same relentless weeds that were strangling the pavilion, were choking the life out of the three stone horses springing up from the base of the fountain. It was an elaborately carved fountain, one you'd find on the grounds of some grand estate, but, just like the pavilion, it was giving up the fight and waiting for time and weather to turn it to dust. In the south corner, a rusted jungle gym set and rocket shaped slide had been casually draped with yellow caution tape, warning people to keep off.
I'd done it. I had seen the town of Butterfield. I'd even gone past my original plan and had lunch in the town square. It would have been easy enough to walk back to the van and check this one off the list. Boone and I could climb back inside and get back on the road with the sad little town of Butterfield just a fading memory. Only I knew that would never happen. Butterfield would never fade from memory.
A car rolled into town and parked in front of the market. A woman climbed out and shot an angry, suspicious scowl my direction. With her attention so taken by the stranger and his dog standing in the park, she nearly tripped on the curb. The cowbell on the market door rang as she hurried into the store. It was easy to predict what the first words out of her mouth would be once inside.
The door opened again. The blue eyed girl walked out holding a broom. There was no suspicious scowl like the woman wore, just a sweet smile and a wave. I waved back. She set to work sweeping the walkway in front of the shop. So there was one amazing jewel in a town that otherwise seemed as if the color spectrum had just packed up and left. Even the surrounding trees looked chalky gray, as if somehow they'd managed to turn off photosynthesis. I wondered just how the girl fit into the Butterfield story.
