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She stops, bends down, looks at something, then straightens again, shaking her head.
“I don’t think you could buy a county for that much today,” I speculate.
“Depends on which county,” she says. “There’s probably somewhere in Nevada that you could get for a song. And don’t forget that’s adjusted for inflation. At the time it was seven million, and people flipped their wigs about it.”
“Why do you know how much Alaska cost?” I ask, still watching her from the corner of my eye. “Elementary school project that stuck with you?”
“No, because I’m unemployed,” she says. “You start your day searching for jobs, and you see there’s an editor position open in Sitka, Alaska, so you look up where that is, and before you know it you’re googling towns in Alaska with no roads going in or out and you’re wondering if you should watch Northern Exposure and sooner or later you’re down a Wikipedia hole, learning all about how the Secretary of State probably bought it just because it was too good a deal to pass up.”
I grin at that, even as I think she’s looking for jobs in Alaska?
“He couldn’t afford not to buy it,” I say. “I’m pretty sure I once bought a ten-pound block of butter for the exact same reason.”
“How’d that turn out for you?”
“There was no gold inside, but I did put most of it into the freezer for a long time,” I say. “So both Seward’s Folly and Levi’s Folly had being cold in common.”
June laughs, and it makes me smile.
“Tell me you named it Levi’s Folly,” she says. “Please.”
“I don’t usually name butter, but you can think that if you’d like,” I offer.
“I would,” June says.
We continue along the creek. June kicks a rock, glances under it.
“Did you apply for the job in Alaska?” I ask, forcing myself to sound casual, like it doesn’t matter to me where she finds employment.
Because it doesn’t matter. It doesn’t.
“Yeah,” she sighs. “I almost didn’t, but then I decided to have an adventurous spirit and all that. You know, go where life takes you! Be open to all sorts of experiences! But I hope I don’t get it. I hate the cold.”
We’re at the waterfall now, the spray just barely reaching us. It feels good on the hot day, and we both stand there for a moment, taking it in. It’s not huge, it’s not flashy, not particularly impressive, but it’s lovely in the way that all waterfalls are lovely.
Also, we’re the only ones here.
“Levi,” June says. “C’mere.”
She’s standing on a big, flat rock on the edge of the pool, and as I walk toward her, she crouches on it and points into the water.
“There. Almost to the bottom.”
I crouch next to her, trying to follow her finger, but I don’t see anything through the ripples over the surface.
“There’s something down there,” she says. “Right there. It might just be a fish or a tadpole or something, but…”
She trails off. I lean in, closer, our shoulders touching.
Alaska. Silas.
This is a bad idea.
“I got nothing,” I say.
She sighs, shifts so she’s kneeling on the rock, leans in toward me microscopically. My heartbeat quickens, and I stare into the pool, pretending to look into the water and having a thousand other thoughts instead.
I don’t have to tell Silas. He doesn’t have to find out, I can keep a secret, June can keep a secret.
We can have this for a little while, and then she’ll leave, and it’ll be all right anyway.
I know I’m deluding myself.
“Okay, see that big dark gray rock over there, just below the fallen branch?” June asks.
I settle toward her. Our knees touch. She’s close enough that I’m looking over her shoulder, finding it nearly impossible to focus on the branch and the rock, anything but her nearness.
“Right,” I say.
“If you look directly down from that,” she says slowly, lowering her finger by degrees. “In the water there’s that sort of… pink rock? And then there’s that sinister-looking blob and to the left of that, there’s something red.”
Still nothing, even though I’m looking where she’s pointing, ignoring the fact that we’re touching, and her face is inches from mine, and our legs are rubbing together.
“Right… there,” she says, and leans in further, until my beard brushes against her face, sending a shiver through me.
I want to turn, put my hand on her face, kiss her. I want to kiss her like I should have in the library. I want to kiss her like she doesn’t have a brother and won’t ever leave Sprucevale.
“See it?” she asks, her voice hushed, barely audible over the noise of the waterfall.
I don’t. I don’t, and then I do. A red blob, too bright to be a rock, too odd to be natural.
“I do,” I finally say, after waiting a few more long moments. “Good eye, that’s pretty far down.”
