When strangers were welcome here

“And don’t let me hear another ‘Is it done?’. I’ve been simmering this stew all day and it’s powerful hot in here and you’ve been under my feet all day, Julian!”

Mam always got mad-minded when Pa was gone celebrating with his hunt friends after he brought a short horned deer from the mountains. They were getting rarer with the drought this year. I hear the old folks talking about droughts and how bad things are in this day and age along with the creaks and groans of the boards outside of the mercantile. The rocking chairs that Mams’ Pa made are still used there, abusing those boards.

“At least one thing still makes sense around these parts!” Great Grand Uncle Marion used to shout with a hearty shove on the chair. Proud of these sturdy chairs that he had no part in building. Or anything else here in Burnett Flats. I’m glad that I’m not old enough to understand why old folks do that.

Later, Pa will show up sweaty and giggly from the liquor, tell me how corrupt polly tishians are and always have been and then Mam will get into his face, shouting at him in scripture and how bad of an influence he is on me. And he will shout back about how much harder it is to put food on the table now with the cattle running off and that the bible ain’t any help tracking down more venison since she had to come up with a mouth to feed. 

Ours and other ranchers’ cattle either died or ran off after this drought started this past spring. Mam complained about the lack of flowers and leaves on the trees turning brown and staying that way early, but she was just as worried as Pa. They told me the cattle ran off, but I know when grumps are lying to me. They do it all the time. I didn’t get anything for Christmas since Santa’s reindeer need moisture to carry themselves, Santa and the sleigh and with this drought….well…an orange would have to do. I shared it with Mam and Pa and we were happy. Mostly. 

I could tell they were worrying about what we were going to do if this continued another season. The blame-game, the bickering at each other…it wasn’t just us. Nope. Others that paid us a visit were tense. Civil, but distrustful. When someone said something about the monster, there’d be a nervous little laugh or an angry denial. 

It had wheels, but black and below the square head was shiny and one big eye behind and over its ugly face, from what Great Grand Uncle told me when he was sober. I didn’t have the heart to tell everyone that I saw it when I went to try the water pump one morning. It didn’t make a whole lotta noise and it nearly hit me as it rode past the pump. I could have sworn that I heard talking inside of the thing. Strange looking legs, it had. I managed to get half a bucket full. Last time we got that much before Pa decided to shut it down. The last of the cattle had either wandered away or just died out there by then, so there was no chance of them starving. Just us.

I knew Mam and Pa would jump all over me about it if I told them. “Stop lying! We don’t give you enough to do, I guess! Are you drunk, child?! You need more church!” I just need to know I’m not crazy in the head and I won’t get my behind beat and made to say verse over and over. It was too hot out to be doing such things.

“Take yourself and your lil sis outside! Get out from under my feet! You know good and well that I’ll holler when supper is ready!”

I saw the look on Sissy’s face as she squeezed what was left of Patricia, the doll that came from Grandmam before we moved here. She despised Pa for making us leave the town for the wilds, she called it. Taking her grandbabes and her daughter to the desert, she called it. It wasn’t always dry like this. I remember Pa putting the handles of the plow in my hands under his hands and helping him and the bulls pull it along, tearing up the ground. The times that he laughed and smiled when I told him over and over how much I was a help to him and Mam. Long before the pond started drying up, the wells level went down so far, we had to add more rope to the bucket.

Then, the stories about the loud, shiny horses started. Poor Margaret Thrimble. Mr. Thrimble had her put away for telling folks in town about it. Then the preacher started and ended his sermons about how our sins and acts were bringing this down on us all. 

I found the sticks that I hid from Pa under the tree I left them. Sissy and I played pirate swords, swatting our sticks, pretending to be jumping around like in the books we used to have in school. With the drought, the towns folk knew that they needed the kids to work what was left of their farms instead of learning, so it was closed down. Just until the Good Lord saw fit to restore us to our bounty.

I was then that I saw the beast approaching some feet away from the island our ship landed on to capture treasure. Shiny, big and box-shaped with round black feet. A bigger kind of beast than I saw and from what I’ve heard, others have too. But with one difference. People came out of it. Just like us. Arms, legs, heads covered with real odd hats and even scarfs. I couldn’t help but laugh. I thought only women-folk like Mam wore scarfs on their heads and on their necks. They looked like they was carrying boxes and talking. I motioned to Sissy to come closer, but keep hid in the yellowing brush. We were wearing light brown and tan clothes, so we more or less blended in with the ground and the dried grass. Pa taught us that when he wasn’t getting on to us about how much we played and probably didn’t pray enough. 

“Can you hear what they saying?” Sissy whispered to me. She wasn’t all that bright, but me, Mam, Pa and God loved her. She’s scared. I guess I am too. These folks don’t look right. I can almost see through them. I could almost hear the preacher shouting ‘bout how they’re probably of the devil. Honestly, preach, the times we’re in is more like the devils’ work than they are. 

“Claire! Are you seeing this?”

She put the box down on the truck bed floor. Still keeping in mind they were their mothers’ dishware. “I swear, Justin, if you show me your forefinger and thumb in a circle again one more time…”

“No, really. There’s something out there. Like people moving, but not like us.”

She shook her head. He had a sick sense of humor, but she loved him for it. After the first few hours, anyway. Now, after 10 hours in the car cross-country, she found it annoying. Maybe when she comes up with a reason to be alone…..oh, that would be nice. 

They grew up together and yes, mom found it annoying, but Clair didn’t spend as much time with him as she did. “Okay. Let’s see the finger and……”

There they were. Two child-shaped clouds standing before them. Faces and styles of clothes seemed to come and go, but they looked like children. Thin, wide-eyed, dirty, holding hands, they guessed. Clair and Justin glanced at each other. 

“The agent said there were reports of this, but I thought it was just a way for him to get a bigger commission. Wild.”

“Really? Why didn’t you tell me?!” Claire wasn’t exactly freaking out, but she wasn’t comfortable with this, either. Not used to things that challenged her notions of life and death. Things that challenged this simple suburb near the desert with green grass, pools and shiny cars. Same as mom and dad. That’s why they were against the idea of them moving here to Nevada. They each had jobs here, Claire had cut ties with the cheating spouse and so there was nothing left to do. Except watch these…..ghosts?

Justin waved his hand slowly, back and forth, royally. The one that he guessed was a boy waved back, in the same way. 

“What you are doing? They might eat us!”

“Sissy, they ain’t going to eat us. They look like people, like me and you. Maybe more grown up like Pa and Mam, but look at ‘em.”

“I can’t. What do they want?!” Sissy was getting scared. She got scared of a lot of things, so I guess it was time to play the big brother and take her back to the house. 

“Okay, okay. Let’s go. They’re not going to chase us.”

“How do you know?!”

“Shhhh. It’s okay. Come on.” I put my arm around her and let her lean into my shoulder as I helped lead her home. Back to Mam and Pa and the little cups of water that they portioned to us. Those ghosts won’t do anything to us. We’re just doing all we can to survive. “Maybe they’re from the future letting us know everything is going to be alright. You think?”

“I told Mam that you reading that city book was filling your head with ideas. I’m telling.”

“No, you won’t. Who’s going to walk you home?”

Silence followed. A quiet, unwelcome victory.

“They’re gone, I guess.” Justin sounded disappointed. Typical. I won’t admit to him that they scared me. Out of all of the houses here in Preseley, Nevada, we had to pick the haunted neighborhood. Oh well. It will give us something to tell mom and dad when we call and let them know we arrived safely. 

“So what do you want delivered for dinner? After you carry in the last of the boxes, I mean.”

“Something rustic. American.”

“Huh?” I found my head cocking to one side.

He shook his own head like shaking off a slap to the face. “Okay. Pizza. You know my type.”

“You got it.” I helped Justin with the garment bags while I thought of those kids. They didn’t look so much hungry as thirsty. She read up on the history and saw that there was a town here way back. The wells ran dry and the ones left tried to pray for the rain they needed. They met in the church that was up on the rise near them and when it came, the flash flood collapsed the dry building and so ended the town of…..

“Burnett Flats.”

“What?”

“The name of the town that used to be here. Burnett Flats.”

“How did you know that I was….”

“I heard you say the name as soon as those ‘ghosts’ showed up.”

I did no such thing. How is that….. Where’s my water bottle?