Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

It had been three days since the morning that sleepy Gallows Creek woke up to find one of their youth had lost his life. Three days of hell. Three days Marie had spent in a frenzy, repeating a story that no one cared to listen to. Three days spent in agonizing grief, curled up in bed with a yearbook and crying until no more tears came. Three days begging her mother and father to do something about the lies snaking their way through town.

They almost didn’t let her come to the graveyard because they feared the scene she would cause for the other mourners. The funeral service back at the church was bad enough, being forced to sit and listen to the lukewarm bullshit placations from the priest and the uncomfortable onlookers who stumbled through barely rehearsed speeches. Marie wanted to go up and do a speech herself, but her father saw her eyes locked venomously on the very affluent looking family in the first row and dragged her out of the church when she stood up, fearing the worst.

But there she stood, wearing a black dress and black shoes and a black flower-shaped hair clip that blended in with her night-black hair, staring at the freshly carved headstone. It was hard to look at his name cast upon that dark stone and not think of his dark silhouette on that cliff, stark and clear against the moon. It was even harder to ignore the memory of simultaneous splash and crunch of his body hitting the river rocks.

Marie was pulled out of her trance when someone tapped her on the shoulder quite hard.

“M’rie? I jus’ wanted to say I’m sorry for yer loss. I miss ‘im, too,” Ricky slurred. He was dressed in a black suit with a sloppily tied tie and was already drunk at 2 in the afternoon. Jason, who the drunk red-haired boy was leaning on, nodded solemnly. A rational person would be wondering how this boy got access to enough alcohol to get him solidly drunk this early, given that he wasn’t old enough to drink in their state. But Marie just blinked, trying to recollect herself.

“Yeah… I’m sorry about everything. We just… it was stupid,” Jason said. Marie soured, her face warping into an expression of contempt as her eyes clouded with tears.

“Fuck off, Ricky. And you too, Jason. Don’t fucking talk to me ever again. I know what you did,” she hissed, gritting her teeth.

Jason’s gaze fell to her feet, his shaggy dark brown hair falling over his eyebrows and the sides of his cheeks. “I know,” he mumbled. “However mad you are at me, just know I feel that toward myself a hundred times.”

Marie’s cheeks flamed and her eyes stung, tears warping Jason and Ricky’s figures into an unrecognisable mass.

“Good,” she snarled. “You deserve it. Now fuck. Off.” Jason nodded and backed sway into the crowd, still holding his friend up.

From behind her, Marie could hear a parent lean and whisper to another. “It’s just really sad, y’know. I don’t know what went wrong with him. Drinking and fighting with the other kids… you wonder what turned him into such a delinquent.”

Marie turned to the direction of the whispering. “That’s a lie! You’re lying!” She growled, a tear falling down her cheek. “He’d never do any of that!”

“Now, young lady,” the tall, well-groomed man said in a commanding voice, “I understand you’re upset about your little friend, but there’s no need to throw around false accusations like that. Mr. and Mrs. Gallows are good friends with the Sheriff, they got the facts straight from the source.”

Marie took a step toward the man. “It’s a lie, and you know it is. Stop pretending-“ but she was cut off when she felt a tug on the side of her dress. She turned to look and found her sister still clinging to her side, looking up at her with round brown eyes.

“Mom says it’s time to go,” Peggy said. Marie’s face softened.

“I want to stay, Peg. I’ll meet you back home later,” Marie answered. Peggy shook her feathered brown curls.

“Mom says we have to go now.”

Marie sighed in defeat and let her little sister lead her away from the grave to where their parents were waiting to drive home, telling herself she’d be back later when there weren’t so many people around.

As the days passed, things only got worse. Marie could barely focus, and her grades plummeted as a result. She dropped out of the school play, unable to bear the thought of performing beside anyone but George. At first, her classmates would try to talk to her, but friends grew scarce after she wouldn’t let go of her narrative. Her reputation grew to be that she was in deep denial about the kind of guy she had been with, exacerbated by the football team’s conflicting story. “She’s just trying to protect his memory. She’s delusional,” the boys, more specifically Teddy, would say. “He was rough with us guys, who knows how much he scrambled her head when they were alone.”

She became an echo in Gallows Creek who had nothing to say to anyone that they hadn’t already heard. Eventually, she just stopped trying.

Weeks passed where she’d barely say a word to anyone, even her parents. The only person who didn’t understand why everyone was ignoring her or why she ignored them in return was Peggy. She’d often make her way into her older sister’s room, hop onto the bed where Marie was usually curled up, and attempt a conversation. Marie usually said seldom back to her, but she silently appreciated the company. She enjoyed the support from her sister, even if she couldn’t explain what was making her so upset in age-appropriate terms.

But the love from her sister would not be enough to put Marie back in higher spirits. Marie continued to decline. Barely able to sleep at night from the constant nightmares, her physical health took a nosedive. She found it difficult to eat much of anything, despite her parents telling her how ungrateful she was for leaving food on her plate. Her appetite further weakened when the nausea began to set in. After school let out, her parents got reports of Marie sprinting out of class on a concerningly frequent basis, only with the explanation she ’didn't feel well’. Occasionally, when they walked down the hall, they could hear her through the bathroom door, whimpering on the floor on the other side of the painted wood. The Campbells were concerned about her health decline, but agreed she was only “sick with grief” and that it would pass as time went on. The truth, however, abruptly put that theory to rest a short time later.

Marie sat at her desk, reading a book. More accurately, she was lazily resting her eyes on the page of a book, unable to focus enough to make sense of the words. A stern whisper-shout from the kitchen caused her to blink rapidly and draw herself out of her melancholic daze.

“Marie Reagan Campbell! Come here right now!”

Her mother used her full name. If Marie could feel anything other than the gray fog of grief she’d been lost in for the past few months, she would have felt a pang of dread weigh her heart down. She pushed out her wooden chair and lumbered down the hall.

When she rounded the corner into the kitchen, she was greeted abruptly with the sight of her parents staring her down, the family’s trash bags from the week at their feet.

“Do you have something you want to explain to us?” Marie’s mother asked in that tone mothers have when they already know what they’re asking for. Marie sighed.

“I thought it was your turn to take out the trash this week… I’ve had a lot on my mind… I’m sorry, it won’t happen again…” she mumbled. Her mother’s expression soured even further, and she turned around to the counter behind her for a brief moment before waving a piece of paper in Marie’s face.

“Is this yours? Because it’s got your name on it,” the older woman asked sharply. The older man beside her nodded, his dark brows drawn tight over his eyes in a mix of anger and concern.

Marie blinked slowly, her mother’s prickly voice thundering around her head and hurting her ears. She didn’t have to look at the piece of paper to know what it was. It was a bill for services rendered. Her bill. The bill headed with the logo for St. Gabriel’s Hospital that she should’ve shredded instead of just thrown out. She took a breath.

“It is.”

“Are you pregnant, Marie?!” Her mother asked.

“It looks to be that way,” Marie answered in a low rumble.

“Who was it?! Well?! Was it the Barrow kid?! Or do you even know?” Her father snapped. Marie grit her teeth, her cheeks beginning to blush with anger.

“You mean George, my boyfriend , who you’ve met many times, who had shared meals with us at this table? Yes, it was,” Marie responded in a low, pointed growl.

Marie’s mother put her head in her hand. “Everyone was right about him. Just a delinquent punk. This proves it. And you were stupid enough to fall for it and ruin your purity. What kind of woman are you now? You should be ashamed, Marie,” She said, her hands landing on her hips. Marie scoffed.

“I can’t believe this. You care less about how I saw him get murdered and more about my fucking virginity?! Can’t you see how horrible you’re being?!” Marie cried in exasperation. “Someone fucking died! George fell to his death and I saw it! This town is covering up George’s murder! You knew his parents! Don’t they deserve to know the truth about their son?! He deserves justice! Why is that so hard for anyone in this town to understand?!”

“You don’t need to worry about what this town is doing anymore,” Marie’s father said. “Because you won’t be living in it.”

Marie’s eyes went wide. “What…?” She asked breathlessly.

“Since you want to act like an adult now, you can leave,” her mother added coldly. “We don’t want someone like you dragging down the morality of this home and of Gallows Creek.”

“You can’t do this…” Marie whispered.

“You’re eighteen, Marie. We don’t owe you a home anymore. And since you’ve shown you don’t respect the values of this house, we’re not gonna open it to you anymore. Pack your things tonight. You and your bastard kid can find somewhere else to live.” Her mother took a step toward her, ensuring the message was clear.

Tears clung to Marie’s eyelashes and her throat ached with betrayal.

“You’re fucking awful. This whole town is fucking awful,” she sobbed before turning back down the hall and walking back into her bedroom.

Jason sat lazily reclined on his family’s sofa, watching late night reruns of some tv show. It was late, but early enough where his parents were still awake deeper in the house, sat at the kitchen table going over bills and reading the newspaper. The light from the sodium vapour street lamp on the sidewalk in front of their house streamed in through the front window, throwing an orange glow onto the wall behind the tiny box television set.

A weak, timid knock at the door made the boy turn to look over his shoulder before rocking to his feet.

“I’ll get it, Mom,” he called back, padding off the carpet and onto the polished wooden floor. He didn’t know who exactly he expected to see when he opened that door, but it definitely wasn’t Marie Campbell.

Marie looked up sheepishly at him, eyes glassy and large. She was shivering despite wearing a jacket, as winter was now sweeping its way across the Midwest and temperatures were regularly reaching 0 Fahrenheit at nighttime. In her left hand, which was gloved, she gripped the handle of a small rolling suitcase.

“Marie?!” Jason whisper-shouted. “I thought you said you never wanted to see me again. What are you doing here?” He asked in concern. She blinked, her cheeks and nose red from the biting cold.

“Believe me, you’re the last person I want to see right now. But… I can’t stay at h-home anymore,” she said, a mixture of emotion and cold slowing her speech. Jacon’s eyebrows lowered.

“Why? Did your parents get tired of hearing about George or something?” He asked. Marie cast her gaze to the floor, placing her free hand over her stomach.

“Not… exactly…” she trailed off, her breath creating little puffs of smoke in the frigid air. Jason’s eyes widened.

“Holy shit. You… you’re…” he couldn’t get any more words out. Marie nodded, understanding his thought process anyway.

“Mhm. Folks said I c-couldn’t stay when they found out,” she said, her teeth chattering.

“Is it… George’s?” Jason asked timidly, not wanting to set her off with that name. Another nod.

“C-can I come in? I’ve been out here for a while… I’m so cold…” she asked, looking at him with pleading eyes. Jason stepped aside and opened the door wider.

“Jesus- of course! Here, get in, so we won’t let any more warm air out.” He grabbed her bag from her and pulled it inside with a quick yank, himself starting to shiver in his pyjamas. Marie did not need a second invitation, walking inside and shutting the door quickly behind her.

“Jason? Honey? Who was at the door?” His mother called from down the hall. Jason looked at Marie’s desperate face for a split second before calling out in response.

“Just a friend, Mom!”

He turned back to Marie, who was still shaking.

“Can I sleep here tonight? I don’t have anywhere else to go… I can just sleep on the couch…”

Jason gave her back her bag. “Of course, God, of course you can spend the night, holy shit. And, no, I’ll take the couch. You’re pregnant for God’s sake, you can sleep in my bed.”

Marie nodded slightly, looking up at him with a genuine expression of sincerity and gratitude he would have never expected to see on her face after what he’d done.

“Thank you, Jason. Seriously. I don’t forgive you, but… thank you.”

“Don’t worry about it, no problem,” he said, waving his hands. “My bedroom is just up the stairs and to the left. I’ll be down here watching tv if you want to join but if you want to hit the hay early, you sure can. It’s been a big night for you. Here, let me get your stuff.”

Jason carried her things up the stairs to his bedroom, leaving Marie alone to get ready and walking back downstairs.

When he reached the bottom of the stairs, his mother stood by the door, watching him descend.

“So what happened? Who stopped by?” She asked, her voice filled with concern. Jason shook his head.

“It’s Marie Campbell. Y’Know, George’s girl. She’s in a really bad way. Got kicked out tonight. If the grief wasn’t enough, the poor kid is pregnant,” Jason explained. “She just needs somewhere to crash for a little bit. Is that okay, Mom?”

Her expression morphed from concern to emotive pity. “Aw… that poor girl. Sure. We can help her for a little while. I think I have some spare blankets and extra clothes in the closet I can give to her. Oh, that poor thing,” she said, hurriedly walking up the stairs.

Jason sauntered back over to the sofa, plopping down with a heavy thud. He sighed and put his head in his hands. He didn’t know if he was doing the right thing. And a part of him wondered if helping Marie out would diminish the great burden of grief he’d been carrying for months, unable to speak of to anyone for fear of potential jail time. Maybe helping Marie and her kid would let him atone for the things that kept him awake with nightmares. In any case, he’d already made his choice.

Chapter Text

Jason woke up the next morning to the sound of his mother preparing breakfast in the kitchen, way closer to the noise than he’d usually be. The sofa wasn’t exactly the most comfortable place to sleep- his shoulder felt weird and his neck ached as he sat up.

He walked slowly up the stairs, approaching his bedroom with apprehension. He needed his clothes, but he didn’t want to wake Marie.

The memories of what happened last night resonated briefly in his mind at the thought of her.

Gently pushing on the door, he peered in, searching the bed for her presence. To his surprise, the room was completely empty. Her suitcase was open and on the ground, but there wasn’t a human in sight. Jason shrugged, walking over to his wardrobe and dressing himself before taking a quick stop in the bathroom upstairs.

Hair and teeth brushed, he stomped down the stairs, jumping over steps by holding onto the railings like he’d done since he was old enough to reach them. Walking into the dining room, he saw Marie sat at the table, already served a plate of eggs and toast.

“Oh, good, you’re up,” Jason’s mother said as she put another plate on the table. “I was worried I was gonna have to walk over there and wake you.”

Jason sat down next to Marie as his mother served herself and sat down. There were only three chairs at the table- usually it was him, his mom, and his dad- but it didn’t matter because his dad had gone to work before the sun came up.

“Hey…” he said quietly to Marie before taking a bite of toast. She looked a lot better than she did last night. Less tired, and definitely less cold.

She ignored him.

Jason’s mother cleared her throat.

“Marie, you’re barely eating,” she said with concern. “Are you feeling okay? Have you been nauseous?”

Marie shook her head. “I’m fine. I used to be really sick, not so much now though. I’m just… not that hungry, Mrs. Parker.”

Jason’s mom took a sip of water. “How far along are you, honey?”

Marie barely moved when she responded, her shoulders low and her head tilted downward. “About… four months, I guess. I don’t know.” The older woman smiled in an attempt to lift Marie’s spirits.

“Oh, yeah, the morning sickness usually goes away around there,” she added. “You know, they say if you get really sick like you said you did, it means you’re gonna have a boy. Trust me, I would know. That one is mine.” She pointed to Jason, who was already almost done with his food after trying to avoid the conversation by keeping his mouth full.

Marie tried to fake a polite smile, but turned away almost immediately.

“Can we talk about… literally anything else, maybe?” She said weakly.

Mrs. Parker cleared her throat and adjusted her thick wire-rimmed glasses.

“Right. Do you have everything you need for school? You can borrow a notebook from Jason if you need to.”

Again, Marie didn’t even look at Jason when Mrs. Parker gestured to her son. Shifting awkwardly in her seat, she took a sip of water before looking out the window at the back lawn.

“Actually… I don’t know if I’ll be going to school anymore.”

Jason’s mother took a cigarette out of her pocket and lit it.

“Not going to school? Why’s that, honey?”

Marie looked her in the eyes.

“Because if I saw Teddy again, I think I’d kill him.”

Mrs. Parker was too stunned to speak. Marie continued.

“And… most of the town wants me gone, anyway. You probably do, too, after how difficult I’ve made this whole thing. I just need to… get some money together and get out of Iowa as soon as I can.”

Jason couldn’t let her ignore him anymore.

“You’re gonna leave? In the middle of winter? With just the clothes you’ve got in that little suitcase? You’re gonna freeze to death! And the baby- how are you going to support the both of you when it’s just you? Do you even have anywhere to go?” He asked her, putting a hand on her shoulder.

She turned to him, her frizzy, fluffy raven-black hair spilling over her shoulder. Her eyes, inkwells of deep mocha brown, narrowed as she glared at him across the table.

“I don’t have much of a choice, do I? I’ll just have to figure it out,” she hissed.

“There has to be something else! Gallows Creek is your home. You shouldn’t have to leave it if you don’t want to,” he affirmed.

Marie’s glare was ice cold. “Great. Thanks for giving me that choice. Would have been nice if you asked George if he wanted to keep living in Gallows Creek before you killed him.”

She stood up abruptly, pushing out her chair and adjusting her coat.

“I’m going to go out and look for work. Thanks for breakfast, Mrs. Parker,” she mumbled as she stalked towards the door and stepped into the crisp winter morning.

Jason turned to look at his mom, a heavy sigh pushing out of his nose.

“She hates me. I don’t blame her,” he said. Mrs. Parker took another drag of her cigarette.

“She still hasn’t gotten that story out of her head, has she?” She asked rhetorically, a sad look on her face. “You know, I don’t think she’s crazy. I just think the truth hurt her too much. She’s trying to protect herself by finding someone to blame. I hope you know what happened wasn’t your fault, Jason.”

Jason stared at his empty plate.

“Yeah…”

“It could’ve been any one of you that night. You were just all trying to have a good time.”

Jason rubbed his face with his hands.

“God, I wish George was here.” Mrs. Parker nodded solemnly.

“I know you were good friends. And he tried his best to be a good kid. He was always so polite when he came calling. I wish he came more,” she admitted. “He just… lost his way somewhere. We all have our issues. All you can really do is ask yourself ‘what would he want me to do right now?’ and hope the answer guides you.”

The floorboards creaked as he stood up to wash his plate in the sink.

“Yeah. I asked myself that last night,” he said as he scrubbed.

Mrs. Parker put her cigarette out in the ashtray on the table, turning in her chair to face him.

“And what was the answer?”

Jason turned around, gesturing to the door. “Mom, she was George’s girl. They’d been in love since sophomore year. He’d chew my ear off in basketball practice about her. He joined the darn drama club just to be around her more. Could you imagine? An old-fashioned, rugged guy like George who grew up hunting in the Appalachians for his dinner doing drama? No one loved anyone as much as he loved her. I know that for a fact. And she’s got his kid in her. We have to help. In any way we can. We can’t just let her leave town on her own. She needs someone to take care of her, take care of the baby. She’s in no state to be a single parent.”

Mrs. Parker narrowed her eyes a little. “Are you suggesting she give the kid up and have your father and I raise it? Jason, I know you want to help this girl. But your father and I don’t want any more kids, and I barely know Marie, much less your dad.”

Jason sighed exasperatedly. “No, no, I’m not saying that. I wouldn’t ever suggest you do that, geez. I’ll… I’ll figure something out. Just promise me she can stay here until spring. She’ll be out before the baby comes, I promise.”

Mrs. Parker considered it. Nodding softly, she looked up at her son.

“I’ll talk to your father about it when he comes home from work. Now you better get out that door, or you’re going to be late,” she warned with a smile. Jason smiled nervously before turning and jogging up to his room to get his books and winter jacket before stepping out the door.

Jason made it to school a few minutes before the bell calling students to their classrooms sounded. He got through the first class of the day, but when the bell sounded to indicate the start of independent study time, he went outside for some fresh air.

Kids were standing on the frosted lawn, talking and studying for upcoming winter exams. Jason pulled his hood up over his head as the cold air started to hurt his ears.

A tap on his shoulder made him turn around.

“Oh. Hi, Teddy.”

Teddy grinned, his face framed by dirty blonde hair poking out of his snow parka.

“Guess what? Chuck said that Pete told him that Dean said he saw Marie Campbell walking down his street at like, 9 pm last night with a suitcase. And guess what? I didn’t see her in physics this morning. I think she finally skipped town,” he said, a blur of steam escaping his mouth and nose. Jason looked awkwardly to the side.

“Uhuh…”

“Boy, wouldn’t that be good for us, huh? We can finally forget this whole thing once she’s gone.” Teddy leaned in closer. “It would sure be annoying if she kept repeating that story of hers, right? It would be real bad news if people started digging around. I hope she really did leave, and she left for good. I bet you do, too, right?”

Jason nodded. He wasn’t really in a talking mood, especially not to Teddy. Ever since the accident, he’d tried to be all buddy-buddy with Jason, desperate to keep all of his loose ends close where he could keep an eye on them, and Jason, desperate to fit in, found it difficult to separate entirelty from one of the most popular kids in school. Of course, Teddy was really only popular because everyone hoped to get a piece of Daddy Gallows’ cash pile.

“God, why are you out here? It’s fucking freezing,” Teddy huffed, still wearing that Cheshire grin.

Jason swallowed.

“Y’Know, Teddy…” he started. “…Maybe Marie shouldn’t… have to leave.”

One of the corners of Teddy’s mouth pricked as he let out a surprised chuckle.

“Uhh, Jason, you hit your head or something? Marie is the last thing in this town tying you to potential jail time. The Barrows ditched, the press has been paid off, the Sherriff’s been kept in the dark, we’re all good! Why would you want her to stick around? Things are finally going back to normal!”

Jason cringed at the mention of George’s family. They were the hardest to convince of the lie, because they’d lived with George for 18 years and knew their son well enough to know that he’d never bully or pick fights or antagonize anyone. But they went out of town almost as soon as he was buried, both to escape the pain of the death of their only son and especially since most of the other parents began to blame them for a perceived lack of discipline. Things got even worse when the comments from the townsfolk started to collect an edge of prejudice, attributing things like George’s alleged overconsumption of alcohol, tendency to play rough, and mistaken belief that he could swim while impaired to his Appalachian heritage, which of course offended his parents greatly.

“I just think… you know, she’s already lost so much. She doesn’t need to lose her home too. I’m sure she’s given up trying to convince anyone by now,” Jason stumbled over his words.

Teddy snorted. “Hey. What happened was a huge downer. Y’Know, I think about George a lot. I really do. But it’s time for everyone to just let it go, her included. It would be better for everyone if she just cut out and got away from it all. Plus, she’s a stone fox. She’ll find a new guy easy, and he’d probably marry her and give her all his money, too. She’ll be all right, Jason.”

Jason’s gaze tracked the sparkling of frost on the petrified grass. “Uh… I guess… you’re right, Teddy.”

Teddy smirked. “When am I not right? Now come on, let’s get inside. Chuck and Peter are in the library, we can join them. Don’t ask me where Ricky is. Probably blitzed. Someone should really do something about that.”

Jason reluctantly followed Teddy inside. As much as he resented Teddy, he couldn’t deny to himself that Teddy had caused an idea to wiggle out of the darkness and make itself known. He didn’t really like it, but at least he had something to work with.

A week or so later, Marie was as settled as she could be in her new accommodation. She’d met Jason’s father, who wasn’t entirely happy his house was being used to shelter the town pariah for free, but was polite and courteous enough to where he didn’t really mind too much. Jason eventually got a fold up mattress on the living room floor to sleep in, and moved some of his essentials into the bathroom downstairs.

After five days of searching, she finally found work manning the reception desk of one of the hotels in the area. She was happy, as she could probably get away with hiding her pregnancy behind that desk before they found out and, worst case scenario, fired her before she had enough money saved up to leave town.

She was coming home from work, bundled in a thick downy parka. Delicate snowflakes floated down her as she opened the gate in front of the Parker house and walked up the path to the house.

When she walked inside and took off her coat, an unanticipated presence at the top of the stairs made her jump as she turned around.

“Marie. Can we talk? Alone? Up here?” Jason said quietly from the top of the stairs, one foot nervously bounding as he leaned his weight on the railing.

She narrowed her eyes.

“….sure.”

Her distrust of the young man was still strong, though spending a week in his home had at least softened some of her ire, and she was more willing to at least entertain a conversation with him.

As she walked up the stairs, he turned and walked down the hall to his bedroom, standing at the door to shut it behind her.

“What is it?” Marie asked shortly, taking her hair out of its tie.

Jason blinked slowly and sighed, putting his hands up out in front of him.

“So. I’ve been thinking for a while about, y’know, what we can do. And… I came up with an idea. I think you’re going to hate it, but just hear me out, okay?”

Marie raised an eyebrow. “I’m listening.”

Jason took another deep breath.

“Okay… so…. Let’s get married.”

Marie’s eyes went impossibly wide as her face warped in absolute disgust.

“WHAT?!” Jason could almost hear her teeth snap together like the jaws of a wolf.

“Just hear me out! Okay?! Please. I promise there’s a reason!” He said, trying to calm her down.

“What fucking reason would I have to ever marry you?!” She snarled, tears collecting in her eyes.

Jason could feel his face getting warm and an ache crawl up his throat.

“Because you need someone to take care of you, Marie! You need someone to support you and your kid, don’t you? Tell me, if George were here, you’d already be planning your wedding right? The second George finds out you’re having a kid, he would have jumped at the chance to marry you, so that you’re both taken care of legally, because he was a good guy. He wouldn’t just leave you alone with the kid to fend for yourself. But he’s not here anymore, and that’s my fault, so it should be me taking care of you now. Think about it. We’d be living in one house, sharing the rent or mortgage, the kid gets a dad, we could file our taxes together, you could stay and focus on raising them while I work, or you work and I stay home. You’re not gonna run yourself into the ground trying to do both.”

Marie blinked. “So you think I can’t do it on my own?” She said, disdain blemishing her tone. Jason pinched the bridge of his nose.

“I’m saying you shouldn’t have to! And you wouldn’t have to if I didn’t agree to the stupid fucking bullshit that got my best friend in the whole world killed! I’m trying to make up for the damage I’ve done. I’m trying to do what he would have wanted for you! I’m trying to make sure the person my best friend loved more than anything and his baby do not suffer from his loss in any other way!” He didn’t cry easily, but his vision was starting to blur.

Marie shook her head, also on the brink of tears. “I’m not going to pledge my life to you just so you can satisfy your guilty conscience!” She backed toward the door, her voice strained and weak.

“Be honest, do you see yourself going steady with literally anyone else after George? I bet not. Listen, it won’t be forever. Just eighteen years ‘til the kid grows up. Then we never have to see each other again.”

“JUST eighteen years?! That’s George’s whole lifetime! MY lifetime up til now! I’m not giving up eighteen years of my life so you can just come in and think you can replace my kid’s real father because you feel guilty.”

Jason took a step toward her, reaching his hand out and gently taking a hold of her hand.

“Not replace. Never replace. I’m not asking you to fall in love with me, and I’m not saying I should just erase George from my own memory either. I just wanna help you. That’s all. No emotional attachment required,” he said, his voice impossibly gentle as he squeezed her hand.

Marie sighed and pulled her hand back. “What happened, happened. George isn’t coming back. My family will always be incomplete. I don’t know how comfortable I am trying to patch it up with someone who allowed him to get murdered, even if it would help me out a lot.” Her anger still seeped through her words even though she was visibly much calmer now.

“I wish you’d stop saying that,” Jason whined. “Teddy didn’t kill George. He’s a dick, but he isn’t a psycho. He had no way of knowing that’s where he would run to. It was never Teddy’s intention. If it was, none of us were in the know. Like, if the whole thing was some elaborate ploy to kill George intentionally, for some reason, you think I’d ever let that happen to him? My best friend?”

Marie shook her head. “Murder. Manslaughter. Is there really that much of a difference when it’s all over? The result is the same.”

She turned and put her hand on the door handle, turning it and pulling.

“Marie.”

She stopped and turned slightly, looking at him from the corners of her eyes.

“Yes?”

“Just… think about what I said. Okay? If not for the sake of you or me, just think about the kid,” he urged.

“How do you know I won’t get rid of it?” She asked coldly, tilting her chin up slightly. This conversation was over in her mind.

“And willingly give up the last thing George ever gave you? Unlikely,” Jason answered back. “Just think about it. You don’t have to say yes. Just think about it.”

She left the room after that. There was nothing else to say.

Chapter Text

Before anyone really realized, another couple weeks passed. The snow blew in strong and harsh, forcing everyone to carve out pathways from their doors so they wouldn’t get their ankles wet from the melting ice. Houses along the street boasted bright rows of twinkling lights and Christmas songs entered into regular rotation on the radio.

The Parkers had set their tree up a few weeks before the holidays, bringing one in from a local fir farm. It was decorated with shiny red ornaments and candy canes, lights and, of course, a brass star at the top. Jason’s mother invited Marie to join them in decorating, but Marie declined as she couldn’t help but imagining her sister decorating the tree in her childhood home just a few steeets down.

She had elected to stay away from her parents thus far. She didn’t know what they’d do to her if they saw her or if she tried to make contact with her sister, especially now after about a month had passed and she couldn’t hide behind thick snow jackets and parkas forever. She knew they knew she didn’t leave, though. While Mrs. Campbell and Mrs. Parker weren’t necessarily friends, they ran in close enough circles that news that Jason’s mother had taken in a ‘stray girl’ until the snow thawed out had made their way back to her.

Martha Campbell couldn’t wait for spring to come. Then her daughter would be gone, and she’d finally be able to forget about her completely. She was a loose end, a nuisance, a bother, and a blight on the character of Gallows Creek. She worried Marie would try to speak ill of her- to somehow blame her for this mess. But at the same time, Martha knew Marie had always been desperate to be acknowledged by her parents, and it would be out of her character to attempt to publicly call them out, not that they did anything wrong. They were perfectly within their right to send her out- in fact, staying in their home after her 18th birthday earlier that year in June was a generosity.

Martin Campbell wanted Marie gone, too. However, he could not compartmentalize and blame like his wife did. He wanted Marie gone because she was a terrible reminder. He wanted Marie gone because she was Martin. He wanted her gone because her presence in that town made him remember that windy winter night in 1949 when he opened his door to see his high school sweetheart in tears, flanked by her army nurse mother and WWII bomber pilot father, demanding the two get married as soon as possible. He remembered the disappointment on his father’s face and the reserved shame on his mother’s. He wanted Marie gone because her story reminded Martin that he had failed in his goal to be a better parent than his.

Most of the people in town knew Marie had stuck around. There was the occasional neighbor or friend from school who would ask Jason about her, but after she solidified her reputation as the town outcast, no one really wanted to or cared to know more than surface level details. Marie living with Jason’s family for the winter just became another fact of the town no one really cared about, like George’s death. Even at the high school. No one really missed the theatre and drama geek in class.

Some people were more intent on seeing her gone than the others, who were merely indifferent. Mr. Gallows would make unsubtle hints to Mr. Parker that he should “forget about the freeloading girl” and just “turn her loose” because she wasn’t his daughter anyway, and that she could probably find a shelter in Des Moines or Chicago if they’d just buy her a train out of town. While Mr. Parker didn’t pity Marie as much as his wife did, he couldn’t deny that kicking her out into the elements wasn’t a very civil thing to do, so he would politely change the subject. Mr. Gallows wasn’t too worried, though, as he knew Jason had been terrified by threat of criminal prosecution into keeping silent, and the girl’s fighting spirit had been broken by months of stonewalling and rejection. He made sure she knew there was no point in trying to convince anyone of any other story than the one he wrote.

In the days leading up to Christmas, Mrs. Parker asked Marie if there was anything she wanted. Marie could think of many things she wanted- George back, to celebrate with her sister, to be back in her own bedroom, and to not have to worry about being pregnant to name a few- but nothing that Mrs. Parker could get her. She told her as much.

“Oh, no, I’m fine, thanks. Just letting me stay here is enough of a gift.”

Despite not really being in much of a giving position, being forced to save up for her planned big trip, Marie made an effort to get the family something nice.

For Mrs. Parker, she bought a set of porcelain salt and pepper shakers shaped like cats. For Mr. Parker, she bought a blue and green scarf. For Jason, she did not get anything.

In the weeks since she’d first showed up at his doorstep, she’d warmed up to him a noticeable amount, though she was nowhere near forgiveness yet. The sight of him laying on the ground, his shirt stained with a dark red substance that looked enough like blood to be convincing, still showed up in her nightmares. It saddened her to no end that one of the final things George thought before he died was that his best friend in the world was dead. She still couldn’t understand how convincing someone a dear friend was dead was supposed to be funny, let alone the fact he could be next.

Eventually, Christmas Eve came, and the family plus Marie enjoyed a modest spread of food for dinner before watching a Christmas movie and heading to bed. It took Marie a little bit to fall asleep, the thought of her sister not being there to wake her up by tearing into her room and jumping on her bed in the morning keeping her awake. Of everything she left behind, she missed Peggy the most. She resolved that she would try to send her a letter when she got settled, hoping her parents wouldn’t intercept it and throw it out.

The next morning, Marie was woken up by a knock on the bedroom door. Blinking sleep out of her eyes, she yawned and got up to open the door. Jason stood in the hallway, still in his pyjamas.

“Uh, we’re going to open gifts now,” he said. “You can join us whenever you’re ready.” He stood for a few seconds before turning back around and walking down the stairs in his funny little way.

Marie walked into the bathroom to brush her hair and teeth. Stepping onto the soft bath mat, she met her reflection in the mirror. Her dark hair was frizzy and wild from sleep. Her skin looked pale but not unhealthy- in fact, she looked well hydrated, perhaps even dewy, as if the fleece pyjamas and warm blankets overcompensated for the cold temperatures outside.

As she brushed her teeth and combed her hair, she placed her free hand on her midsection. Her body was changing at a pace difficult to ignore, even without the little twitches and flutters that had been occurring from time to time in recent days.

After she’d taken care of everything she needed to, she walked down the stairs and turned into the living room to see the family sitting on the carpet, each with a steaming cup of coffee. In Mrs. Parker’s long fingers perched a cigarette.

“Good morning, Marie,” she said warmly. “Merry Christmas. Did you want anything to drink? We made a pot of coffee, but I think we have some hot chocolate if you’d like that instead.”

Marie shook her head. “No thanks. I’m fine. Merry Christmas.”

She sat down on the carpet next to the rest of the family. She watched as each of them reached under the tree to give gifts to their other family members until they were surrounded by shredded wrapping paper.

Mrs. Parker got Marie a gift, a gesture she was not expecting. A blue and white baby blanket. “You seem to like wearing blue and white, so that’s the color I chose. Plus, I still think it’ll be a boy,” she said as she took a sip of coffee and a drag of her cigarette.

Marie pressed her lips together in what might have generously been called a smile if you squinted hard enough. ”Thanks, Mrs. Parker.”

After Marie had opened up the baby blanket, Mrs. Parker began to gather the wrapping paper shreds strewn about the carpet. “I think that’s everything, then.”

Jason cleared his throat, hiding behind a mountain of socks, trading cards, shirts and books.

“Not quite. There’s one more present I need to give,” he said softly, turning around and reaching behind the sofa out of everyone else’s vision. He returned with a shoebox sized package wrapped with amateur skill.

“It’s for you, Marie.”

Marie received the box and placed it in her lap, tearing the wrapping paper away. Underneath, it really was just a shoebox.

“I couldn’t get you what you really wanted, but I tried to at least come close.”

With those words, Marie took the lid off the box and peered inside.

Inside of the box were a bunch of photographs. Each of them were in color, but low-contrast and tinted a reddish brown as most photographs of the decade were. All of them were pictures of George.

Jason leaned over and pointed at one of the photos. “See that one? That’s from when his dad took us hunting. Look at how big his smile is! Oh, and this one’s from the first day of junior year. Here’s one of the two of us by the reservoir. And look at this one- it’s all three of us! This was the Harvest festival last year, I think right after we finished doing the Maize Maze. Here’s one I took of you both when you weren’t looking. Just look at how he looked at you. Nothing but love in those eyes. Like nothing else mattered.”

Marie was speechless as she stared down at the photos, their contents a mix of George alone, with Jason, with her, or with both, as Jason continued to point out photos and their contexts. Finally, she turned to Jason, heavy tears pooling in her eyes and rolling down her cheeks.

“Thank you,” she whispered, the most sincere she’d been to him since the night George died.

Jason cracked a sad smile, his own eyes stinging. “It’s so you can remember that, y’know, he might’ve passed away, but he had a good life. He was happy. He was always surrounded by good friends and nature. And he loved you very much. Those are the things that matter. That’s what keeps him alive. In here,” he said, pointing to the left side of his chest.

Marie closed the box and put her face in her hands, sobbing loudly. Jason put a hand on her shoulder, the first time he’d been able to really touch her in the entire month or so she’d been living with the family, and squeezed.

“He’s always gonna be with you, y’know,” he said as a tear slid down his own cheek. His mother put out her cigarette on the ashtray next to her on the floor and moved over to Marie, throwing an arm around her shoulder and pulling her into her warm, wool sweater.

“You’re a very brave girl,” she said as Marie leaned into her shoulder. “I don’t think I know anyone else who has as much courage as you do.”

The family stayed on the floor for a while until Marie stopped crying. Mrs. Parker looked out the window by the tree and saw a blanket of clean, white snow on the windowsill outside, and their front lawn covered in a layer of sparkling white powder. She decided it would be best if the family stayed in that morning. So that’s what they did.

A few more cold winter days crawled slowly by. The family all got to enjoy using their gifts- Mrs. Parker loved to cook with her new kitten shakers, Mr. Parker was always warm on his way to work, and Jason thought his new clothes fit quite nicely. Marie always slept with her shoebox of pictures by her side or cradled in her arms, the lid taped down so the pictures didn’t come loose in the middle of the night while she moved around. It comforted her greatly. There was a time when she was worried she would eventually forget George’s face, but as long as she had her box that was an impossibility.

One morning, a few days before New Year’s, Jason came upstairs to grab something out of his room when Marie stopped him in the hallway.

“Jason- can we talk for a second?” She asked softly. He nodded, a bit confused but sensing the urgency on her face.

Marie closed her eyes and took a breath before sighing out of her nose.

“Yes,” she said. Jason looked at her blankly. She opened her eyes and looked into his. They were dark brown, just like hers.

“I’ll marry you.”

Jason’s heart dropped.

“Oh- okay,” he said, trying to play it cool. Her face was still sincere.

“I’m not doing it for you. Or for me. It’s for my baby. And for George. He’d be beside himself if he thought I wasn’t letting myself get help because I was too proud and stubborn. I’d never hear the end of it if he were here.”

Jason nodded a bit. “You have always been a stubborn one.” She chuckled halfheartedly, knowing it was true.

They both stood there awkwardly for a while until Jason lightly smacked the sides of his thighs and went into his room.

“Well,” he said, matter of factly, “I’ll go tell my folks and we can start figuring out how and when we are gonna do this.”

Marie blinked in the space where he just was. “Yeah… you go ahead….” Her mind was going through a million things at once, hopping to one idea before derailing into the next one. The realisation of what exactly she’d just agreed to hadn’t fully struck her yet, but she got the feeling she’d just made a life altering decision.

Chapter Text

Jason’s parents weren’t exactly thrilled at the news of the engagement. When the two eighteen year olds sat the older couple down and told them what they planned to do, their reactions were of concern and bewilderment.

“Jason, you know you don’t have to do this,” his mother said. “Marie has already agreed she’ll leave soon.”

“But I want to do it,” he countered. “I don’t want her to leave in the spring. I want her to stay in town. Where she belongs. With me.”

Jason’s father shook his head. “It’s understandable you have regrets about George and want to be of help, but that doesn’t need to come at the cost of your own future,” he said, gripping a glass of water on the table. “Marie is a smart, strong, capable young lady. She doesn’t need a husband like you think she does.”

Again, Jason was misunderstood. “This isn’t about what she needs, Dad. This is about making sure she has what is owed to her. Her boyfriend, who I know would have done everything he could for her, is gone, and it’s bec- and it’s not fair to her. Look. We’re both eighteen. We could march down to the courthouse this afternoon and do it if we wanted to. But we’re telling you now so we can all prepare.”

Jason’s mother took a drag of her cigarette and blinked through her round glasses.

“And where will you go? Will you both stay in the house? I told you already, Jason, we don’t want to raise any more children.”

Marie finally spoke. “I’ve been saving up all of my checks. Jason is going to find work, too. We’re going to rent a place. The cheapest we can find that allows kids. We won’t be living here. You don’t need to worry. We’ll start looking soon.”

The Parkers ran down the list of potential objections, but the duo held onto their plan. They were unwavering as the weeks passed and December became January, which became February.

Marie and Jason devoted time to planning their wedding, writing personalised letters to people in town they wanted to witness the ceremony. Marie addressed one to Peggy though she was sure her parents would intercept it and destroy it. They also wrote Ricky an invite despite Marie’s protests, as Jason was able to convince her he had nothing to do with what happened and was equally as distressed. It helped that he could back that up with how much of an anxious mess Ricky was.

The two set out around town, walking to each house to personally deliver the invitations. The ground was still dotted with piles of melting snow on lawns and sidewalks, and lingering frost still twinkled on the corners of the windows they passed. Walking past Marie’s childhood home twisted her heart in her chest, and Jason had to almost jog to match her walking pace.

When they were done passing out invitations, they didn’t just go back to Jason’s parents’ house. They had one last stop to make.

Marie exhaled heavily through her mouth as she lowered herself down to the ground. Her right hand rested on the outside of her thick jacket and her left gripped the cold stone of the chiselled grave for support and stability. Sitting down on the ground from standing was not a simple task for her anymore.

“Need help?” Jason asked, seeing her lowering herself to the stiff ground.

“I got it,” she replied, stretching her legs out in front of her and leaning her shoulder on the stone. Jason joined her, sitting cross-legged on the other side of the grave.

Marie leaned her head back against the cold, smooth surface, stinging tears in her eyes.

“I miss you so much, Georgie,” she whispered, the heat of her cheeks as she sniffed back tears making the chilly early spring weather not quite so cold.

Jason cleared his throat. “Hey man, sorry to bother you, hope you’ve been sleeping well.” His voice carried a piece of the strain Marie’s did. “We just… well, we wanted to come by and say hello, first off, but we also came by because we wanted to run something by you.”

Jason himself didn’t know whether or not anyone was actually listening besides Marie, but for some reason the one sided conversation put him at ease.

“You see, your Bean here, well, she’s going to have a baby- your baby, in case that wasn’t clear,” he said, quickly interjecting with a nervous chuckle, his eyes darting over to Marie to make sure she wasn’t about to hit him for the insinuation he accidentally made. Looking back to the dirt in front of the stone, he continued.

“And you know, you’re not here to take care of her. But I know you wouldn’t accept anything less than the best treatment possible for her, and leaving her all alone with a kid would really piss you off. So…”

Jason struggled to find the words. “…we’re gonna get married. Your girl and I. I’m gonna help her and work hard and make sure she’s comfortable, like I know you would have. I know how much you loved her. You told me as much countless times. And I know you’d pay any price to give her whatever she needs. I’m part of the reason you’re in that hole, so I wanna make it right and give her the support you can’t. Would that be all right with you, if we got married? If you don’t want it to happen, you give us a sign, okay? And we’ll listen. I promise I’ll take real good care of her for you, George. And your baby. You can hold me to that.”

Marie angled her chin up a little, desperate to keep what little dignity she had left. Visiting his grave, seeing his name carved into that stone was both soothing and absolutely agonizing. She knew Jason was feeling similar things. She knew he was grieving, too. He’d known George just barely longer than she had. They were inseparable at school and outside of it. When she came into the picture, George was so happy to introduce them, to bring his two most cherished peers together for adventures, just the three of them.

But Marie’s grief was different from Jason’s. They both knew that. Sure, both of them spent hours of their days with George, talking, playing sports or rehearsing scripts, sharing their deepest secrets, but Marie and George shared something he didn’t share with Jason. She gave George every part of herself, every aspect of her humanity and personhood, and he to her. She had planned to give him her future, too, and knew he felt the same. They were bound by more than just friendship, much more. Six months along, that fact was obvious to anyone with eyes.

“Marie, where do you think we go when we die?” Jason’s question made Marie jump a little as she turned to him.

“I don’t believe in God or Heaven or anything, if that’s what you’re asking.” Maybe at some point she did, raised in the common churchly way as she was, but certainly not now.

“Yeah… me neither, I guess…” he said, beginning to think he’d asked a stupid question. His eyes drifted up to the sky, which was bright and blue despite the cold weather.

“But let’s just pretend, for a second, that something like Heaven exists, okay? And, you know, it’s this amazing place where you can have anything you want in the world. What would Heaven look like for George?”

Marie’s thick eyebrows furrowed as she pondered the question, trying to fight through the biting pain in her chest she got when she thought of him.

“Hm… well, he’d probably want to be outdoors. Somewhere like back where he was from, with mountains and stuff. Not like here,” she guessed. George loved Gallows Creek, but the stories he told the two of them about where he grew up, nestled next to some of the most beautiful mountains in the country, made it obvious he preferred the landscape better.

Jason scooted closer, sliding down and throwing his hands behind his neck with an exhale. “Yeah. Wide open fields with big tall mountains that change color with the leaves, plenty of trees to climb and crystal clear lakes to swim in.”

The biting feeling in Marie’s chest began to leave, though she didn’t notice. Her attention was focused on the world she was painting behind her eyes.

“And he’d have his cassettes with him. All of his favorite songs. Especially Long Ride Home.”

Jason nodded along before adding to their vision. “And plenty of things to do, too. He’d have a dart board hung up on a tree somewhere, car magazines, all of his favorite movies, maybe even a hunting rifle. All the sticks and rocks he could ever hope to collect. Oh, and no school or homework or anything. Just free time. Maybe even a glass of his grandfather’s moonshine.”

Marie surprised herself with a chuckle. One of her favorite stories George told her, and evidently Jason as well, was how his grandfather took him to see his old makeshift moonshine distillery deep in the woods when he was eight or nine. He said that after Prohibition ended, no one would buy the stuff, so they had a couple bottles laying around. He recollected trying a little and reeling at how it was probably the most unappetizing thing he’d ever consumed.

Marie looked to the sky and sighed. “Haha, maybe. That sure sounds like somewhere he’d like to be.”

Jason smiled, happy that he’d finally gotten to see Marie truly smile again. “Just imagine him there,” he said. “He’s having such a good time. Not a care in the world. He’s not in any pain and he’ll never be sad or angry. And he’s always gonna be young and healthy and have plenty of energy forever.”

Marie’s smile faded as she looked down and gave her stomach a stroke. “Sure beats being down here.”

The vision of paradise disappeared from Jason’s mind as he stared at his shoes. “Hah, yeah…”

They stayed silent until a small shiver from Marie made Jason start to stand up. “Hey, let’s get back to the house, you look cold.”

Marie stood up silently, using the grave as leverage to get back on her feet.

By midday at school the next day, word had gotten around that Jason and Marie were planning on getting married. The question on everyone’s mind was ‘why’, especially so soon after George’s death. Were they secretly in love the whole time? Was someone forcing them to get married?

There was, of course, the rumour floating around that Marie was pregnant. Someone claimed a friend of a friend had seen her walking to work with an odd shape to her. But no one really could find anything out short of actually asking her or Jason, which no one did since no one wanted to talk to either of them after Jason started associating himself with her.

Except of course, Jason’s old friends.

“Jason! What’s the scanoose?” Teddy asked rhetorically as he crossed the courtyard over to where Jason was reading a magazine. Behind him were Chuck and Peter, both of whom had stuck close to Teddy after the incident, fearing what would happen if they didn’t.

Jason looked up at Teddy and the rest of his former football team. “Teddy, fellas,” he said, cordially enough. Teddy leaned over the bench.

“A little birdie told me that someone is getting married! What is the story there?” He asked, his impossibly toothy grin stretched tight, eagerly awaiting response.

Jason met his eyes. “Yeah. It’s true, I’m gonna get married,” he admitted. The three other boys looked at each other, nodding in impressed approval.

“Wow, look at you, congratulations!” Teddy blinked, his crystal blue eyes opening wide. “I didn’t know you and Marie were going steady like that- I thought it was just a temporary thing. You must’ve really hit it off to be this eager, huh? Or… are you getting married for some other reason?”

Jason knew what Teddy was hinting at. And he knew that if he didn’t say something, Teddy would keep bothering him until he got an answer. Teddy didn’t like it when someone refused to give him something he wanted, including gossip. And Jason decided it wasn’t worth the trouble.

He sighed, his dark brown hair flopping in front of his eyes before he brushed it back.

“Marie’s having a kid. George’s. I’m just… helping her out.”

“Holy shit, are you serious?” Peter asked, adjusting his large, wire framed glasses. Jason nodded, not exactly the most eager to continue this line of questioning.

“She needs help. I’m just trying to help her out.”

Teddy hopped up on the bench, looking down at Jason, who was sitting on the intended plank of wood. “Listen,” he started, that same smirk on his face, “I know you’re trying to do a good thing and be a hero, but… I mean, do you really want to raise another man’s kid? Why not just let her split and leave this all behind us?“ Peter and Chuck looked at each other uneasily. As much as they hated to admit it, they’d both prefer if Marie was gone, too.

Jason’s expression was cold, but his tone was measured and calm. “I wouldn’t have to if it weren’t for what we did. She’d probably have a husband by now if it weren’t for us, anyway. It’s the right thing to do.”

Teddy scoffed a little. “But getting married is such a big leap though, isn’t it? I mean, what’s in it for you? What’s the point of marrying her? Marie is still mourning George so it’s not like she’s going to put out for you-“

Jason quickly stood up, becoming level with the blonde boy. “Her life was fucking ruined because of us and you think I’m upset about not getting any?!” His voice cut through the cold air, his consonants blunt and filled with disdain.

”The only things I care about are that Marie is healthy and sane because first off, she didn’t deserve any of this, and second off, I don’t want to think about what would happen to all of us if she wasn't! If she can’t get justice the normal way, what’s stopping her from filling in the blanks herself?! In her eyes she has nothing to lose. That poor chick has been through hell. She deserves a husband who will care for her and look out for her and help her raise her kid. Obviously that should’ve been George, but that ship has clearly sailed. So unless any of you three want to step up, it’s going to be me!”

The boys blinked in stunned silence. Jason met their eyes individually before scoffing and returning to his magazine. His demeanor remained severe and confident, but on the inside, he was terrified that he had just lost the friendships of the only three kids who would still be friendly with him outside of when classroom activities demanded it. He was especially worried about Teddy running home to Daddy about the comment. He was already on thin ice just for welcoming Marie into his home, so openly defying Teddy and telling the truth out in public could very likely end up with him getting the same treatment Marie was.

Teddy cleared his throat and looked sideways for a split second.

”Well, I guess if you’re really serious about it… keep an eye on her, okay? Y’know, keep her under control, like a good wife. You know what’ll happen if you don’t. It won’t end well for you, no matter how much you kiss up,” he said in a voice just a bit above a whisper. The way he spoke sounded more like a warning than a threat to Jason, but when Teddy’s family was the one calling the shots in town, they were the same thing.

Chapter Text

The days leading up to the wedding went by extremely fast. Most of the snow has melted, leaving patches of icy slush under lampposts and in people’s front yards. Marie quit her job, no longer able to hide her pregnancy from her boss. It was an inevitability she would be let go, so she got out ahead of it before they pulled the metaphorical trigger. Marie obviously didn’t have anything remotely resembling a nice wedding dress, having only packed for winter, so she borrowed one of Mrs. Parker’s dresses. It wasn’t made with Marie in mind, so she fit into it quite awkwardly, but it was enough of an effort for the occasion. The dress was off white, patterned with a tiny pink flower print. For a normal wedding, she would’ve been incredibly underdressed, but for a courthouse ceremony, it was just fine.

On the way to the courthouse, Marie couldn’t bring herself to look at Jason. He was dressed equally as nice, in a nice button up shirt and ironed dress pants. His hair was styled away from his face, combed back in orderly swoops. She hoped that somehow, somewhere, some sign from above would appear to dissuade her from going through with this, but no sign ever came.

Walking up the steps to the courthouse, a familiar high pitched voice caused her to turn around.

“Marie!” Peggy shouted excitedly as she ran up the steps. Marie looked down at her little sister in shock, hot tears pooling in her eyes.

“Peggy-!” She choked, bending her knees to intercept the little girl in a hug. Looking past her curly brown hair, she could see her father’s truck parked across the street. Of course they weren’t going to come in themselves.

Peggy pulled away with a toothy grin. “You look like a marshmallow! Feel like it, too,” she said, innocently unaware of how offensively that comment could be taken if the recipient wasn’t her sister who was brimming with tears at Peggy’s very presence.

“Well, it’s ‘cause you’re going to be an auntie soon!” Marie said, a combination of emotion and awkwardness breaking her voice into stilted chunks. She didn’t know how much her parents told Peggy about why she left, but her assumption that they didn’t tell her the truth was proved correct.

Peggy looked up at her sister with wide eyes. “You’re having a baby?! Is that why you left?”

Marie nodded. “That’s right. I need my own space now that I’m going to have a family. I’m so sorry I didn’t say goodbye, I just didn’t want you to worry about me.”

It hurt a lot to lie to Peggy, but she didn’t want to destroy her sister’s relationship with their parents and risk them treating her the same way they treated Marie. Peggy had been the golden child from the moment her folks brought her home- from when her name was still Margaret. As the older sister, Marie had to answer for anything her parents found unacceptable, and she got the suspicion that her parents took out the fact that they weren’t ready for a child on her and treated Peggy like their ‘do-over’. The fact the girls were ten years apart in age lent a little more credence to that theory.

Marie bent down to be more on her sister’s level. Apart from being much older, Marie was also a pretty tall woman, all things considered. “Do you really think I look that big?” She said quietly, a timid, goofy smile on her face. Peggy chuckled and threw her arms around Marie again.

“Why don’t you come by anymore?” Peggy asked as she pressed her cheek into her sister’s chest. Marie looked around. The truck was still parked across the street.

“Uh… well, I’ve just gotten so busy, and-” she started, but was cut off by a very familiar voice yelling from across the street.

“PEGGY!”

Peggy looked up at Marie, big tears now tracking down her cheeks. Marie tried to smile through her own pain.

“You heard Dad. You better get going,” she urged, stepping back and out of Peggy’s arms. Peggy took a step toward her and tightened her hold.

“Please don’t leave me,” Peggy whimpered.

Marie sniffed. Peggy was making a hard day even harder and she didn’t know how much more she could take.

“You’ll see me again. I promise,” Marie said, taking Peggy’s arms and pulling her off. “And when you do, I’ll probably have your little niece or nephew with me, and you can cuddle them, if you want.” Peggy grabbed at her sister a third time.

“I love you,” she said as she sniffled and wiped her tears on Marie’s dress.

“I love you too, Peg,” Marie affirmed.

“PEGGY!”

Marie stepped back again and stood a bit more firmly.

“Now go. Dad’s gonna be awful mad with you if you make him call you a third time,” she said, giving Peggy a gentle push on her shoulder. Peggy nodded and ran down the steps. Before she ran across the street, she paused, turned, and waved to Marie before darting across and opening the passenger’s door to the truck. Marie watched with a pulsing ache in her chest as Peggy disappeared from view.

As Marie turned around, wiping her eyes, she was a bit startled by Jason standing in the doorway. He smiled a sad smile.

“Are you ready?” he asked.

It took a little while before she spoke.

“Um…yeah. I think so.” Her throat stung and her chest was so tight she couldn’t breathe, but she didn’t really have any other choice. He extended his hand out to her.

“How about it, then?” he asked.

She paused for a second before nodding and placing her hand in his and following him into the courthouse.

When Marie and Jason sent out the invitations, they didn’t really plan on many people actually coming. The majority of Gallows Creek didn’t want Marie around anymore, and those who did didn’t want to interact with her. Marie didn’t mind too much, though. This wasn’t a big ceremony. All they really needed was a few witnesses. But, there were considerably more people than the few she did anticipate, those being Jason’s parents. For one, Kimberly Walker, who hated being called Kimberly, sat in one of the benches. Marie guessed Kim was going to come with her boyfriend, Peter, but Peter had probably been spooked out of coming for fear of retaliation by Teddy. Not that she really blamed him. She hated him for it, but she couldn’t really discount that point of view either. Kim wasn’t as beholden to Teddy’s whims, and she was closer to Marie than any of the boys on the team were. Being presidents of the drama and improv comedy clubs, they ran in a lot of the same circles and were well acquainted. Friends? Perhaps not. But they appreciated each other as fans of the performing arts.

There were a few more people in the room- a neighbour or two and a few friends of Jason’s who were too far removed from what happened in September to be scared off by the Gallows family, and of course, Jason’s parents.

The ‘ceremony’ was short, but the whole thing was agonising to Marie. Every glance at Jason made her heart sink deeper into her stomach. Everything about him was…wrong. His eyes were a deep brown, and there was a softness in them that looked more like lifelessness to Marie, who longed for George’s sky blue eyes that were always full of adventure and whimsy. His hair was the colour of weak coffee, while George’s was flaxen blonde. He was taller than George. His skin was lighter, while George always had a bit of a golden tan, even in the winter. Jason’s voice was like any other voice Marie grew up hearing- a standard American ‘TV’ accent with a small bit of Midwest slang thrown in. When George spoke, everyone in the room turned to listen to him, transfixed by the richness and warmth in his voice, as if the Appalachian Highlands themselves were speaking through him.

Marie and Jason signed their marriage certificate, and the small group left without much fanfare. As the group walked down the steps of the courthouse, Marie fell to the back of the group, drawing a larger and larger distance until she felt confident enough that she could slip away without anyone noticing.

She walked across town alone, arms wrapped across her stomach and back hunched over, as if she was trying to hide herself from the shining sun. The monumental life milestone she had just passed hadn’t yet sunk in and didn’t until she passed through the gates of the cemetery.

When she came to George’s grave, she didn’t just sit next to it, reclining her back against the stone like she usually did when she came to visit. This time, she lay down completely horizontal in the new grass, staring up at the cloudless sky as tears escaped the outer corners of her eyes and disappeared into her hair.

Despite it being technically spring, the ground was almost unbearably cold, and the grass was wet from the morning dew and residual melted snow. But Marie didn’t care as her skin started to tense and the back of her dress became cold and damp and stained with grass. Today was a day of mourning for her. It was the day that marked the closing of the impossible possibility that she would live happily ever after with George at her side as her husband. It was a cold reality check, a grim reminder that the future she’d spent nights hugging her pillow and fantasising about was gone forever.

“I knew I’d find you here.”

Marie blinked the tears out of her eyes to focus on the dark shape above her.

“Hi, Jason. Sorry I left,” Marie mumbled, not moving from her reclined position. Jason stepped to one side of her and sat cross-legged facing her. He didn’t dare lie down, despite Marie now being his wife, he felt that lying down next to her and the grave would be like jumping into bed with a couple- it was just inappropriate and an invasion of space.

“It’s okay,” he reassured her. “I hope you find comfort in coming here.”

Marie scoffed.

“I don’t.”

That was not the answer Jason was expecting.

“Pardon?”

Marie turned to look at him, her eyes and nose blushed. “I don’t find comfort here because I don’t find it anywhere- there is no comfort. I can’t get close to him because he isn’t here. He’s not anywhere. And… I’m just trying to be okay with that.”

Jason looked at the grass for a moment.

“You don’t have to be.”

She blinked and sniffed. “What?”

“You don’t have to be okay with it. I’m not. I just married my best friend’s girl. That’s not right.”

Marie choked out a dry, strained, cough-like chuckle even though he wasn’t joking.

“What fucking choice do I have? It’s not like it matters anymore. Fighting it isn’t gonna do anything,” she mumbled.

Jason shook his head. “Don’t have to fight either. You just have to accept it and move forward. But you don’t have to be okay with it.”

Marie sighed, looking back up at the sky. “Ah.”

Jason stayed still for a few seconds before reaching into his back pocket.

“Hey. Uh. I got you something. I was gonna give it to you at the courthouse, but you disappeared on us. It’s a, uh, wedding present.”

Marie watched out of the corner of her eye as he set something down in the grass next to her. She slowly and with great effort brought herself to a sitting pose, her belly making it hard to sit up like how she normally would. She picked up the object, which turned out to be a small box. Undoing the delicate ribbon around the box, she opened the lid to see a gold necklace. In the middle of the thin gold chain was a small loop that held a small pearl inside it.

“Oh, wow…” Marie said. She didn’t normally like wearing jewellery, but even she could appreciate its simple beauty.

Jason looked off to nowhere in particular. “Thought you deserved something nice on your big day. You know what that is?”

Marie was still transfixed on the necklace. “Yeah. It’s a pearl.”

“Yup. Your birthday’s in June, right? Pearl is June’s birthstone.”

Marie nodded slightly. “Uh-huh. Thanks.”

“You know what kind of pearl that is?”

Marie didn’t even know there were different kinds.

“It’s a freshwater pearl. That means they got it from a river and not the ocean. And this one came from a specific river here in the United States.”

Marie was intrigued now. She looked up at him just as he looked back her way.

“What river?”

Jason smiled weakly. “Tennessee River. A little part of it goes through Kentucky. This one’s from that part.”

Marie looked back at the necklace. “Jason… thank you…”

“You’re welcome, Marie.”

“I didn’t… get you anything…”

He rested his hands in his lap.

“That’s okay. You’re not the one who got us into this mess. You don’t need to make it up to me.”

Marie looked up suddenly, catching Jason a bit off guard.

“Jason.”

A bolt of …something he couldn’t place… shot through him and made him focus everything he had on her.

“It wasn’t your fault.”

Jason sat frozen for a few seconds before melting into tears and leaning forward to wrap his arms around Marie.

“I…” he stammered. Marie took her arms out from between them and wrapped them around his back.

“I forgive you, Jason. George would, too. He knows you didn’t try to hurt him.”

Jason sniffed and wiped his tears on Marie’s sleeve. “You don’t know how much that means. Thank you.”

The weeks following the wedding were nothing short of tense. Jason’s parents, no longer the only married couple in the house, were becoming less and less tolerant of Marie continuing to take up space in their home. Not for any ill intent, they just felt that the deal made back in December had expired. Jason and Marie were both scrambling wildly to find a home, but Gallows Creek wasn’t exactly a bustling real estate market. Not many things were available even for rent, and the properties that were vacant were at prices unattainable for two eighteen year olds, even with a bit of help from his parents, or the property owners flat out refused to rent to them in the hope some older, more responsible tenants came along.

Jason came to Marie one afternoon as she was cleaning the living room, in higher spirits than usual.

“I’ve got a lead on a house, Marie,” he said. She looked up from the table she was wiping down.

“Are you serious?”

He nodded. “Yeah. I just came back from a house tour. I think it’s perfect. It has one master bedroom and another bedroom we can use for a nursery. It’s close by, too.”

Marie’s face got a little brighter.

“Is it affordable?”

He nodded again, his smile growing. “We can do it with the money my parents promised us. They are desperate to sell this house. It’s been on the market for a while.”

Marie was beginning to sense there was a catch, and her face dulled again.

“…Jason…? Why has it been on the market for a while….?”

Jason coughed and looked at the carpet, dragging his sock along the brown fluff.

“It’s, uh… the Barrow’s old house.”

Marie’s face went from suspicion to devastation.

“We are not going to be buying George’s old house,” she growled, her vision beginning to blur.

Jason scoffed a little, gesturing in the air. “What choice do we have, Marie? It’ll fit the three of us, it’s in town like we wanted, it’s a lovely house, and it’s way cheaper than it should be because no one else wants to buy it because of the history.”

“You expect me to raise my baby in that house?!” She whined, her voice a mix of sadness and rage.

Jason gently put a hand on her arm.

“Listen, Marie, I know this is a lot for you. It’s a lot for me, too. But this could be our only chance to find a house we can actually afford without having to move away. You need to think about your baby. This could be just what they need. They need somewhere warm and safe to grow up in,” he reminded her.

Marie looked at him, all anger gone from her face, only sadness and despair remained. ”Are you sure you couldn’t find anything else?” She pleaded. Jason shook his head.

“It looks like it’s all we’ve got.”

Marie closed her eyes and tried to compose herself.

“Okay, then. Okay. Tell them we’re still interested,” Marie said, the sentiment taking more effort than she was comfortable admitting. Jason hugged her over one shoulder with one arm.

“It’s the right call, Marie. And I know it’s going to be hard for us all. But it’s going to be worth it once we have our own place. You’ll see.”

Chapter Text

With the passing of a few more weeks, the two had signed off on the house and begun to move in. They enlisted the help of Jason’s parents again, this time to help move what little possessions they had into the house, especially Jason’s mattress and bedding. Marie helped very little, both because entering that empty shell of a structure caused her great emotional turmoil and because it was nearing the middle of March and her third trimester was creeping closer by the day. None of the Parkers felt she should be lifting any sort of heavy objects at all.

Eventually, they moved enough supplies and furniture in to make the house livable, and the newly married couple moved in. Marie’s discomfort was obvious- she’d sit at the dinner table bouncing her leg as she stared aimlessly out the window and pace around the living room, not daring to look at the room that she knew would have to become her baby’s nursery.

Night came as it always does, and the pair began to prepare to go to sleep. Jason had brought over his spare fold up mattress and spread it out in the bare living room, pumping it up until he was satisfied with the firmness. He could’ve chosen to place it in that empty room down the hall, but his feelings toward it were similar to Marie’s. He didn’t think he could comfortably spend the night in there.

After saying their goodnights, preparing for bed and changing into pyjamas, Jason spread out on the floor and sighed, listening as Marie’s soft footsteps got quieter and quieter.

He closed his eyes, shifting to his side and facing the front door. As he began to drift off, his mind bounced between happy memories and the grief and numbness of the present, mashing sentiments together in a way that made his heart twinge with melancholy and nostalgia.

Something seemed off though. Slowly, his mind wandered back to the present, returning to processing the stimuli of the dark living room as he opened his eyes. Something had made him snap out of his thoughts. It took a few seconds of lying still to parse out what exactly it was. A noise, coming from deeper into the house. A noise that sounded like crying.

Jason peeled himself off of the mattress, standing in the living room wearing his green and yellow striped pyjamas. He followed the faint sound of sobbing to the master bedroom, where he pushed open the door and found Marie, curled up in a ball and sobbing into her pillow. Jason came around to the opposite side of the bed, unsure if she heard him some in or not, and sat cross-legged at the head of the bed.

“You okay?” He asked, placing his hand on Marie’s shoulder. Marie turned to face him, her face damp and contorted.

“I just… miss him so much…” she choked out. A shock of pain pulsed through Jason’s body as he patted her on the shoulder once more.

“Hey. I know how you’re feeling. I feel it too. But you need to get back to sleep,” he urged. She looked at him and shook her head.

“I can’t,” her voice was raspy, strained and weak. “Not in this house.”

Jason could tell if she had more energy she would have wanted to say ‘not in this fucking house’. To see her cut down to this, so tired but unable to sleep, after all the progress they’d made, ached his heart.

Jason looked at her for a moment before clearing his throat.

“Did George ever tell you about the time he and I went over to Quiet Ridge and got ourselves kicked out of the ice cream shop on accident?”

Marie turned more to peer at him through tears and a mess of black hair.

“No…?”

Jason gave a halfhearted chuckle. “He probably didn’t want you to know, actually.” Marie turned all the way around slowly, readjusting herself so she was comfortable again.

“Could you tell me?”

He nodded. “Sure. So George and I were gonna go out hunting ‘cause deer were in season and he wanted to see if he could nab a buck without his dad there to teach him. And so we went out near Quiet Ridge because they’ve got a really good spot for deer over there.”

As he talked, he stretched out his legs and sank deeper against the headboard.

“So we go out and we manage to get a buck! You should’ve seen George, he was so proud. But the issue is that when we were trying to y’know, get it ready to take home and everything, George didn’t really do it right and got blood all over. Like, he was covered. And he didn’t think to bring a change of clothes.”

“So we walk the mile or so into town -keep in mind, George is covered head to toe in blood and has a rifle on his back, at this point I also have blood on me- and he’s like “Hey, that ice cream parlor probably has napkins, maybe I should ask them for one!”

So we go in and he walks through the door, we’re tracking bloody footprints all over the ground, the little doorbell chimes, and George slowly walks up to the counter, the shy little lamb he was, and goes “Pardon me, ma’am, may I have a napkin?” and the lady behind the counter goes “Get out.” And he’s just like “Okay!” and turns around and walks out.”

Marie’s face instantly broke into strained laughter. Her whole body shook as she struggled to contain herself, a sound adjacent to a whistling teapot escaping her throat. After a gasp, her laugh became more regular. The moonlight bounced off of her shiny, wet cheeks and made her now visible white teeth sparkle. It was the happiest Jason had seen Marie since George died. He couldn’t help but chuckle too.

“He looked like some sort of murderer!” Jason added. “Can you imagine all the little kids in there getting a little treat with their parents and some guy walks in like that?!”

Marie wiped her eyes, though her tears were from laughter and not pain.

“What happened after?”

Jason looked at the ceiling.

“Well, we tried to wash up best we could in the river, but our coats and pants were toast. Had to drive back to Gallows Creek in our underwear. George was driving. We’re about halfway back when he looks over at me and goes ‘We never speak of this again, you hear?’”

Marie held her round belly and attempted to calm herself down, gasping for air. After collecting herself, she let out a sigh and looked over at Jason who was barely visible in the moonlight.

“Thanks. I needed that,” she said, softly. He smiled back.

“Don’t mention it. I needed it, too. It keeps him alive, y‘know?”

Jason began to sit upright so he could get off of the bed and walk back down the hall, but Marie put a hand on his shoulder as he got up.

“Wait,” she said quickly, before retracting her arm. “Don’t go. I can’t sleep here alone.”

Jason stood still.

“You want me to… sleep next to you?”

Marie nodded.

There was plenty of space, but space wasn’t what Jason was concerned about.

“You sure?”

Marie nodded. “Please. I just need someone.”

Jason obliged, shrugging before pulling the covers over himself and sinking down, placing a pillow under his cheek.

He was quiet for a little while before he spoke again.

“Have you picked out names?”

Marie put her hand up to her mouth and yawned, nuzzling into her pillow.

“Hmm?”

“Names. For your baby.”

Marie sighed and stuck a hand under the covers, rubbing her stomach through her short, boxy pyjama gown.

“If it’s a girl, Anne. If it's a boy, Henry.”

Jason nodded in approval. “Those are beautiful names. Where did you get them from?”

Marie chuckled to herself. “Remember two years ago when I convinced George to do the school play?”

Jason hummed in agreement.

“Those were the names of our roles.”

“Oh. Well, I like them. They’re very classic.”

Marie bowed her head in acknowledgement. “Thank you. I also wanted their name to match ours. George and I both have names that come from fancy European royalty. I want our kid to have the same.”

Jason furrowed his brow.

“You were named after Marie Antoinette? Seriously?”

Marie shook her head. “Not explicitly. I was named after my parents- Martin and Martha. They gave me a name that also started with M-A-R. My sister also had one, Margaret, but everyone’s always just called her Peggy.”

“Ah.”

“But George and I always thought it was funny we had names like French and English royalty. I wanted to… keep that going, I guess.”

Jason closed his eyes. “I like that idea. What do you think it’ll be?”

Marie looked down. “…George always wanted a boy. Someone to horse around with and go on hunting trips with and teach how to be a good man. I honestly don’t have a preference, as long as they’re healthy. All this stress… I feel bad for them. I can’t imagine what it’s doing to them.”

Jason yawned.

“That’s what you want. But what do you think they’ll be?”

Marie was quiet for a moment.

“A boy.”

“You think you’re ready to handle a baby boy?”

Marie chuckled, a transparent mask covering her nervousness.

“I don’t really have a choice, do I?”

The covers rustled as Jason readjusted himself to find a more comfortable position.

“I guess not.”

Another yawn escaped Marie’s mouth.

“Goodnight, Jason.”

“Goodnight, Marie.”

The next day was a school day, so after Jason woke up and scrounged together a few breakfast items from the food his parents left him and said goodbye to Marie before heading out the door. So much had been going on in his personal life, school was more like an afterthought than the milestone that was supposed to be the end of his senior year.

Toward the end of the day, Jason stood at his locker pulling out a notebook he needed for his next class when a familiar face sauntered by.

Since George’s death back in September, Ricky had regressed into a shadow if he was even at school at all. He was once the lifeblood of the football team- sweet, kind, fair and patient, and always available to chat you ear off- but even after all this time later it was difficult to see him in a state that wasn’t reserved, quiet, or concerningly inebriated. Jason had tried to catch up with him multiple times, but Ricky always had some excuse to leave. He was also often absent from school for days at a time.

Jason watched Ricky go by silently. Even his signature red hair seemed dull and lifeless. Jason wondered why Ricky of all people was taking this so hard. He barely knew George, and he wasn’t a witness to the death like Chuck and Peter were. He thought about his own journey through healing, still miles from complete, but a good amount of progress behind him. Since the night of the accident, he relied on his parents for support, he tried his best to focus on the good times, and he had Marie to talk about the really tough stuff with, like his feelings of guilt and personal responsibility. Jason thought to himself that Marie would probably be in a similar situation to Ricky if she hadn’t sought out his support and comfort. Ricky was seriously struggling for whatever reason, and the longer no one did anything about it, the worse off he would become.

Jason returned to his new home that day, placing his books on the dining room table. He walked through the house until he managed to find Marie, who was trying to clean the limescale off of the bathroom faucet.

“Marie?” He asked to get her attention. She stood up straight and exhaled, placing one hand on her hip and the other on the bandana she used to smooth her hair out of her face.

”Uh-huh?”

“Y’know, Ricky is still in really bad shape emotionally. The guy is so quiet now.”

Marie blinked. “Okay.”

Jason continued. “I just think we should go talk to him. I mean, he didn’t do anything wrong and it seems like every other day he's hungover or holding back tears or walking like a zombie through the halls. He’s just not doing all right, Marie.”

Marie’s upper lip twitched in a mild scowl. It was clear she knew he was right, but didn’t like the idea of talking to Ricky.

“If he’s feeling guilty, maybe it’s warranted,” she said. As far as she’d come, she wasn’t immune to backsliding back into blame.

“Marie, he had nothing to do with it,” Jason corrected, “And even if he did, he doesn’t deserve to live the rest of his life a drunk carrying all that guilt around and bottling it up. I couldn’t pretend to know why he’s taking this so hard, but all I know is he deserves better. And I think talking to him would benefit us all. Even you.”

Marie’s cold expression softened. She knew he was right on some level. Plus, holding a grudge may have felt good, but it was exhausting, and she didn’t have that much energy anyway.

“Okay. Sure. We’ll go talk to him. Just let me get properly dressed,” she said, gesturing to her rather dishevelled looking cleaning outfit. Jason smirked.

”I don’t think he’s the type to mind too much. Though, you should probably lose the rubber gloves.”

Marie shook her head in disbelief before yanking the gloves off and tossing them in the sink.

”Well? What are you waiting for, then? Let’s go,” she called over her shoulder as she walked past him and out into the living room. Jason took a few speedy hops to get over to her.

“Gee, for a pregnant lady you sure move fast.”

Chapter Text

Ricky’s house was, to say the least, unimpressive. More so than most of the houses in Gallows Creek. It was small, the eggshell paint was chipping in multiple places, a few tiles were missing from the roof, there was a small patch of wood rot on the porch railing, and the welcome mat was so dirty it was impossible to make out what it used to say. Jason put a hand out as he walked up the porch steps, signaling for Marie to get behind him.

“I’ll talk to him first. He might be better off that way,” Jason explained. Marie pursed her lips and narrowed her thick brows in contemplation.

The two of them made it up to the door and Jason gave it a few good raps.

When the door opened, Jason was expecting to see his former football teammate. What he got instead was a grizzled old man with a scruffy gray beard and a white shirt that had been stained ivory by cigarette smoke.

“Hi, Mr. Buchanan, I was wondering if Ricky was home? We wanna talk to him.” Ricky’s grandfather nodded stiffly, stepping one foot behind him so that his body was angled back into the house.

“Ricky? Come to the door. Jason and … the girl are here to see you!” he called back. A few seconds went by, and Mr. Buchanan shifted again to face the two teenagers.

“He’s comin’,” he said. “Y’Know, he hasn’t been right since that party.” Mr. Buchanan’s tone was both frustrated and solemn. Marie and Jason started to realize why George’s death was hitting Ricky so hard. Living with an old man whose experience with emotional support only included a pack of reds and a bottle of Jack to drown out the memories of the trenches and barbed wire provided a bit of clarity. Explained where he was getting the booze from, anyway.

Ricky slid out from behind a wall and plodded slowly to the door. When he raised his head, his eyes went wide as his vision went past Jason and found Marie’s expressionless face.

“Your friends wanna talk to you, Ricky,” Mr. Buchanan said.

Jason nodded. “Yeah, why don’t you come outside and we can talk? It’s been a while, Ricky.”

Ricky looked once to his grandfather and then back to Jason before stepping out onto the porch. His grandfather gave Jason a nod before closing the door to the house, leaving the three of them in silence.

“It’s been a long time since I’ve seen you, Marie.” Ricky’s voice was deflated.

Marie nodded and put a hand to her stomach that was poking out of her thin powder blue jacket. “Yeah.”

His blue eyes flicked to where her hand was.

“I- oh. It really has been a while, I guess. I didn’t know…”

Marie smiled halfheartedly, suddenly losing the drive to be combative. “I didn’t really tell anyone, so…”

“Is it…?” he trailed off. Marie didn’t need to hear the rest.

“Mhm. The last thing he ever gave me.”

Ricky slowly brought his arm up and extended his hand out to Marie.

“Could I touch-“

Marie jumped back as Jason slid over, placing himself in front of Ricky’s hand. The two of them both forced out a quick “-no” at the same time.

Marie put her hand on Jason’s shoulder to excuse him. “Not because of you or anything, Ricky, I just… I don’t like being touched.” She looked over at Jason. He’d known and anticipated her reaction before she’d done it. Was she that predictable?

Ricky recoiled, nodding in understanding. “No, it’s okay. I… sorry. I just… sorry.”

Marie shook her head. “You don’t need to apologize. It’s fine. At least you asked.”

Ricky shook his head and ran his hand through his red hair.

“Ah… I just… y’know. Makes me think of… him.”

Marie looked down. “Yeah. Me too.”

Ricky thought for a moment and scuffed his sock on the wood. “You’re not… mad at me anymore?”

Marie sighed. “I can’t answer that. I don’t know what I feel.”

Jason cleared his throat. “Hey, uh, Ricky, listen, I just saw at school and stuff that you were having a hard time and I just wanted to ask if you wanted to talk about it? You know, about that night. About George.”

Ricky looked to his left and right sharply. “But…”

Jason shook his head. “Teddy’s not around. Coast is clear. So, did you have anything on your mind? We’re here for you, buddy.”

Ricky stood frozen for a bit before he sighed and looked off down the street.

“I think about that night. Every night. George… he’s dead because of me.”

Jason shook his head. “It wasn’t because of you, Ricky.”

Ricky winced, rubbing his palm across his face and shifting his weight from foot to foot. He looked like he was battling the world’s largest headache.

“But if I stayed… if I didn’t run off… he could still be alive,” Ricky mumbled. “ He’d been here only two years. It’s so easy to get lost in those woods at night. But I’d lived here all my life. I know those woods like the back of my hand. I could’ve led him away from Whistling Point if I saw he was going in that direction.”

Marie jerked her head to the side, squeezing her eyes shut. She turned and leaned against the old, chipped railing. Ricky’s words brought flashes of the past back to her mind that smuggled with them terror and pain. She felt Jason’s hand pat her shoulder.

“Sorry, Marie…” Ricky said.

She shook her head but didn’t turn back around.

“No, it’s fine. I’m fine. You… you couldn’t have known what would happen that night.”

“She’s right,” Jason said. “You couldn’t have known what would happen. None of us could. I just… I just wanted to scare him. I didn’t even know he knew who The Whistling Man was. But we can’t keep going back there and thinking about what we could do different. We have to move on, Ricky. George would have wanted us to move on.”

Ricky’s eyes clouded as he ran the back of his hand across his cheek.

“I just feel so guilty,” he sniffled. “And I felt like I couldn’t talk to anyone about it. No one would believe what really happened- not when Teddy and Chuck and Pete and Kim said different. It hurts like hell to keep it all bottled up.”
Marie had calmed herself enough by this point that she could turn around and face the two boys again.

“You can talk to us,” she offered. “And you shouldn’t feel guilty. You…” She battled with the rage the situation brought up for a moment. “Even if you did come forward, I doubt you’d sway any minds, given… well, given the amount of alcohol you’ve been consuming.”

Ricky looked at Jason. “I mean… coming forward… it would ruin you, right? I mean even if you didn’t do anything wrong, which you didn’t, Teddy’s dad is super powerful. And rich. He could pull a few strings and make you take the fall. Teddy wouldn’t see a single consequence.”

Jason pursed his lips and swallowed, nodding his head slightly. “He said if I said anything, I’d be going away for a long time.”

Marie closed her eyes again. Back in September she would’ve said ‘I don’t care if you are locked up for the rest of your life, the truth needs to be heard’, but now, it seemed cruel to want another innocent to suffer needlessly.

Ricky shook his head again. “Man. That’s such a bummer. Maybe someday. God, my head is killing me.”

Jason raised his eyebrows in concern. “You really need to stop drinking so much, Ricky,” he said. “It’s not good for your head.”

Ricky sighed. “I know. I’d take up smoking instead, but the smell makes me nauseous. This… I think this helped, though. Thank you.”

Jason smiled weakly. “Hey, no problem. You just remember nothing was your fault, okay? You didn’t do anything wrong. No one could have predicted what happened. No matter what Teddy or anyone else tells you to think. You don’t deserve to drink your life away trying to stave off the guilt. You can do better.”

Ricky nodded, a crooked smile on his face for the first time in a long time. “Thanks. I’ll try to remember that. Goodbye, you two.”

Marie smiled in return before turning to walk down the porch steps again. As she made it down the first one, Ricky called after her again.

“Oh, Marie, by the way,” he said. “Congratulations on your baby. You’ll be a wonderful mother. George would be so proud. He was a lucky fella to have someone like you.” Ricky hoped his well wishes wouldn’t be taken with offence, and to his luck, Marie smiled back at him and nodded in acknowledgment.

“Thanks, Ricky,” she replied. “Good luck. Hope things get better for you.”

Jason waved goodbye as he followed Marie down the sidewalk.

“I think he really needed that,” Jason said once they’d gotten out of earshot.

“Yeah. He looked so rough. He really had no one to talk to about it all. He was terrified to even mention it.”

Jason looked over at her with concern.

“Yeah. Hey, speaking of- are you okay? I noticed you flinch a bit back there. Everything all right?”

Marie scoffed and tucked some hair behind her ear.

“Yeah. I’m fine. Just… shell shock, I guess. When he started talking about that night, it just came back. But I’m fine now.”

Jason nodded and looked forward again. “Ah. Well, that’s good. I can’t imagine having witnessed it like you did. I can barely tolerate the screaming.”

Marie furrowed her eyebrow. “The screaming?”

“I hear you screaming in my sleep sometimes.”

Marie focused forward.

“Oh.”

“Yeah. Hey, let’s get home, yeah?”

“Yeah.”

That night, the two got into bed in the fashion that was now their new norm. Jason fluffed up his little pillow, sliding his legs under the covers after he was satisfied with the puffiness. After reaching across his bedside table to turn out the only remaining light in the room, he laid back and sighed.

Marie stared up at the ceiling for a moment, a thought creeping onto her tongue and lingering until she felt the courage to speak it aloud.

“When we were walking back from Ricky’s… you said something about a scream? What was that about?”

Jason brought his hand to his forehead, flipping his brown bangs up.

“That’s what I heard. Actually, I don’t think I ever talked to you about what happened to me that night, did I?”

Marie looked down the bed out of the bottom of her vision, her lids resting softly over the majority of her eyes.

“No, I don’t think so.”

Jason shuffled uncomfortably. “Well, you know how the thing that sticks around in your mind is how you saw Teddy reaching out to George, and how you saw him fall and hit the water and vanish?”

Marie nodded soundlessly. Jason didn’t need light in the room to see she wanted him to get to his point and stop putting that image in her head again.

“Well, you know, I wasn’t down there at the riverbank with you all. I was up in the clearing. I stayed laying on the ground for a while, but I got up and started walking in the direction you, George, Kim and Pete went in. But… I didn’t make it down there before George fell, obviously. So the thing that put me on edge, the thing that alerted me that something was wrong, was… you.”

Marie felt her stomach turn, and this time, it wasn’t the baby.

“I had never heard anything like it in my whole life. I had never heard that kind of pain. Like a Banshee. So… whenever I get nightmares of that night, or just randomly during the day, it’s not George himself I think about, really. It’s you.“

“Jason…”

Jason looked up at the ceiling. “When I heard you scream, I knew whatever happened at that river was really bad. You’re a great actress, and I’ve heard you scream for roles before, but this was on a whole other level. It almost didn’t sound human. Y’Know, losing my best friend that night was the worst thing that ever happened to me, but the nightmares aren’t of George’s funeral.”

Marie shook her head. “Gosh, I’m so sorry, Jason. I had no idea what it must’ve been like for you. I didn’t even think to ask.”

Jason slowly brought his hand over to where hers was resting on top of the blankets. He spoke again as he laced his fingers through hers.

“No need to be sorry. I couldn’t imagine what it would be like to watch someone lose their life, let alone a partner.”

Marie squeezed his hand back.

“I think I lost a little bit of me that night. Whoever I was before that, I can’t ever be her again.”

Jason slowly rubbed the back of her hand with his thumb.

“Well, maybe you will, one day. But if not, that’s okay, too.”

Marie decided to change the subject.

“So… you’re gonna graduate in a few months. Are you excited?”

Jason took his hand out of hers and put it on his stomach.

“Yeah, I guess. College is out the window because we used my fund to pay for the house, but I don’t think I’d be able to go, anyway. I don’t think I could study and work and be a dad at the same time,” he admitted.

Marie looked over at his shape in the darkness.

“‘Be a dad‘? That’s what you see yourself as?”

Jason furrowed his brow. “What else would I be?”

Marie didn’t know what to say for a while. Eventually, she scrounged together a rough sentence.

“I’m sorry things turned out this way for you, I really am.”

“All that matters is the baby knows they’re loved by someone, even if that someone isn’t their real father. Now, get some sleep.”

“You too.”

Chapter Text

The next few weeks passed mostly uneventfully. Marie kept working on fixing up the house and Jason continued school, even managing to get a part time job working the evening shift at the gas station. The only thing that really changed is that the pair started talking to Ricky more. Usually at his house, or at the park, or on walks in the woods by the reservoir. Places Marie wouldn’t feel the judgmental eyes of the townsfolk on her, making her feel even worse about her situation. They didn’t exactly have a lot of money to throw around, which included getting her more flattering clothes than her ill-fitting shirts and Mrs. Parker’s hand me downs that were incredibly out of style.

Though Marie lived in a time of great social progress, not every advancement could make it to their sleepy little Midwest town as fast as it could places like New York City or Los Angeles. Pregnancy was still a taboo, especially for the older crowd, and Marie’s age compounded that. Ricky obviously didn’t see it as such, though. It was a little awkward, sure, but nothing worth raising an eyebrow at. She liked having him around to talk after he and Jason got out of school, since she didn’t really have much else to do all day. She also noticed a slight improvement in his health the more they spoke. He’d show up to class hungover less. His eyes were just a bit brighter. His hair seemed a bit more glossy and red.

Jason also liked having Ricky around. He was someone to talk to at lunch and commiserate with about the schoolwork. Neither of the boys were particularly academically inclined, and Ricky was still waiting to hear back from a few late admission colleges, though he wasn’t very hopeful. But still, Jason felt like anything worth doing was worth doing with at least some effort, so he helped Ricky study.

Eventually the time came to take their final exams, and Jason was feeling pretty confident.

The morning of one of his exams, he woke up to the sound of his alarm clock going off. After he got dressed and came out of the bathroom, he noticed Marie was awake and sitting on the edge of the bed, her back facing the door. She looked like she was leaning over.

“Good morning, Marie,” Jason said. “Want me to make you some cereal or something?”

Marie returned his greeting without turning around. “Morning, Jason. Yeah, sure, that sounds good.”

With that, he walked down the short hallway and into the kitchen. As he put out the bowls and filled them, his eyes flicked up to the bedroom he didn’t like to think about. It had taken them about two months total, but the room was finally populated with furniture. It wasn’t much, but it was something, at least. A small wardrobe. A shelf. A crib. Every baby gift they’d gotten, mostly from Jason’s parents, shoved into a corner and intentionally forgotten about.

Footsteps brought Jason out of his thoughts as he dropped spoons into the bowls.

“So what have you got planned for today?” He asked as he carried the bowls over before turning around to face Marie for the first time that morning.

She was sort of bent over herself, a barely-hidden grimace on her face and one hand on her stomach. “Oh, nothing, really…” she said. Jason walked closer to her.

“Hey, are you okay? Is something wrong?” He asked. She shook her head.

“I’m fine. I just must’ve slept wrong and gotten a muscle cramp. Do you have an exam today?”

Jason explained the agenda for that day as he sat down and ate his cereal with her. She barely ate, but was lifting the spoon up to her mouth as if she was miming actually eating.

After Jason finished his bowl and washed it in the sink, grabbing his textbook to take with him out the door, he turned and looked at Marie again.

“Are you sure nothing’s wrong? I can stay home today if you need,” he offered. Again, she shook her raven black hair and tried her best to smile.

“Nope, I’m okay. Good luck on your exam.” Jason smiled back and bid her goodbye before walking off their property and in the direction of the high school.

Jason did well enough on his exam, not perfect but nothing to complain about, either. As he walked off campus, he felt mildly proud of how confident he had been during the exam. His studying had paid off.

When he got home, he turned the front door handle. The door opened without any resistance from a lock and Jason walked in.

“Marie? I’m back. I was gonna make a snack before my shift starts if you wanted to-“ Jason’s shouting came to an abrupt halt when he saw a handwritten note lying on the kitchen table. Jason picked it up, his eyes widening as he read the message.

‘J,

FEELING WEIRD. WENT TO HOSPITAL.

M’

Jason dropped the note and took off running down the street towards the hospital. He was still pretty in shape from his football playing days, but his lungs began to burn and his throat stung as he ran at top speed for longer than his body could take.

He cursed himself for not just staying home. Why did he think he could trust Marie- stubborn, stoic, Marie- to actually tell him she wasn’t well, and why did he believe her when she lied so obviously?

He slowed down as he came to the hospital parking lot, taking a few gasping breaths before pushing open the door to the hospital front waiting area.

Still a bit out of breath, he came up to the counter. A secretary, perhaps a nurse as well given the fact she was wearing scrubs, turned around in her chair and looked up over her red glasses at him.

“Hi, uh, did a young lady get admitted to the hospital today, uh, Marie? Dark hair? Pregnant? I’m here to see her,” he huffed, shaking his shaggy brown hair out of his eyes.

The secretary blinked. “You’re the father?” She asked, though her intonation made it sound rhetorical, like she already knew the answer. Jason blushed.

“Uh- well- I’m her husband,” he said, the difference meaning nothing to anyone but him. “Can I see her?”

The secretary blinked slowly again before turning around in her chair to face some other nurses doing paperwork on the ledge behind her.

“Louise, were you the one that took in the girl this morning? Do you know which room she’s in?” She asked in a nasally tone.

One nurse nodded and looked up at Jason. Her eyes wrinkled as she smiled warmly.

“Yeah, if you just wash up real quick we can take you back to the maternity ward to see her. What’s your name, again, hon?”

Jason’s heart dropped into his stomach. “Wait, hold on. Maternity ward? She-“

The nurse nodded. “She delivered not too long ago. She and baby are alright, just resting now.”

As the nurse led Jason down a corridor, the clicking of her heels drowned out by the sound of his heart pounding in his chest. She soon slowed, and then came to a stop at one of the doors, knocking a few times before turning the handle and cracking open the door.

“Mrs. Parker? Your husband is here to see you,” the nurse said in a sweet voice barely above a whisper.

Jason heard Marie’s voice echo back a quiet “okay.”

The nurse opened the door wider and gestured for him to walk in. The room was small and covered in white and fake wood veneer. Pushed up against one of the walls was an uncomfortable looking cot, and underneath the paper thin blanket was Marie. Her gaze was fixed in between the blinds on the window beside her.

The nurse smiled as she backed out of the room. “I’ll be right back”, she said softly.

Jason walked over to Marie, so much on his mind he struggled to find the words to speak.

“…I… I’m so sorry,” he finally said as he got to the foot of the bed.

Marie blinked, not looking at him. Her nose and eyes were irritated, which seemed to Jason like the wrong parts to be blushed after the ordeal she just went through.

“It’s okay.”

“Are you alright? I mean, you just had a baby.”

“Fine.”

The platitude did little to soothe him. “I hope you know,” he started, “…that he was with you. Every second. He was with you the whole time. And he was so proud. I wish I could’ve been with you, too.” Obviously telling her he wishes he was with her so she wouldn’t be alone would have defeated the entire purpose of his first few sentences, so he kept that to himself. Not that she couldn’t figure it out.

“It’s a boy,” she changed the subject. “I have a boy now.”

Jason put his hand on the rail of the cot.

“A boy. Just like you wanted,” he said as he tried to give a halfhearted smile. In her head, Marie replied that she didn’t want a boy, she wanted George.

“And did you name him already?”

She gave the tiniest of nods.

“Henry.” Her gaze was still transfixed out the tiny slits in the window blinds.

Jason was about to speak again, but Marie took an inhale before he could think of anything else to say.

“Parker.”

A large tear rolled down Marie’s cheek.

Jason stared. Henry Parker. He probably should’ve expected the baby would get his name, considering it is now also Marie’s. But it just sounded… wrong. Mismatched.

“Does he have a middle name?”

Marie didn’t move again.

“George.”

Jason cracked a smile, this time a genuine one. “He would’ve loved to name his son after himself, wouldn’t he?”

Marie didn’t laugh. Instead, she drew in another breath.

“Jason?”

Jason leaned inward. Another tear fell down Marie’s cheek.

“Why am I still not happy?”

Jason was amazed at how so few words could make his heart hurt so badly.

“Marie… you have been through more in nine months than most people have in their entire lives. Give yourself some grace. The excitement will come. Eventually. I hope.”

Jason turned as the door creaked open again, and the kind nurse appeared, this time with a white bundle of fabric in her arms.

“Here he is,” she cooed as she walked over to the two teenagers. Marie didn’t turn to face her like Jason did.

“Want a turn to hold him?” The nurse asked Jason. Not knowing what else to do, Jason nodded silently. The nurse smiled and placed the bundle into Jason’s arms.

Looking down, Jason could now see that the bundle had a plump little face. He chuckled a little bit before looking up to the ceiling.

“Gosh, I hope he can see this,” Jason said. “This is unbelievable.”

Marie slowly turned her head over and up.

“He looks like George, right? Doesn’t he look like George?”

Jason looked back down at the sleeping baby. His cheeks were large and round, his nose was small and smushed, his eyes were closed and he wore a little hat to keep the top of his head warm. He was absolutely adorable, but Jason couldn’t see anything resembling his late best friend in such a small, chubby face.

“Absolutely, one hundred percent,” he said as he gently swayed Henry left and right. “He’s George’s twin.”

Marie smiled for the first time since Jason walked into the room.

“Good. That’s good.”

Jason looked back down at Henry, rocking him back and forth. He must’ve been going too fast or not smooth enough, though, because Henry’s little eyes twitched before flicking open. Jason’s heart sank a little as the secret hope that the child would at least have George’s eyes was dashed in seconds.

Henry looked up at Jason with the same mahogany brown eyes Marie did.

“Hey, Henry,” Jason said softly. “Welcome to Gallows Creek. You’re gonna love it here. I’m Jason. I’m gonna be filling in for your old man since he couldn’t be here anymore. Okay?” He angled himself so that Henry was propped up, looking in the direction of Marie.

“That’s your mama, Marie. She loves you very much. You’re very special to her. But she’s hurting a little bit, so try and be nice to her, okay?”

Marie looked down to the sheets covering her lower half solemnly. Jason bent his knees a little so that Henry was close to her shoulder height.

“Do you want to hold him, Marie?” He asked. “I don’t know if you already got the chance to really admire all your hard work.”

Marie looked up at him and nodded, stretching out her arms to take the little bundle.

She looked at her son for a few seconds before shaking her head. “I’m so sorry, Henry,” she said quietly. Jason put a hand on her shoulder.

“You’ve got nothing to be sorry about. He will have everything he needs. I mean- not everything. But. Close enough to be comfortable.” Jason struggled to find the words to comfort Marie.

Tears filled Marie’s eyes before she leaned over, resting her cheek on Jason’s hip.

“I just want George,” she whimpered through sobs. “And my mom. And my dad. And Peggy.”

Jason reached around and put his hand in her other shoulder, holding up Henry’s head with his other.

“I know. And I am so sorry I can’t bring him back for you. And I’m so sorry your family did this to you. But look what you have, now. He’s a chance, Marie. To start over. To focus on the future. He needs you, Marie,” Jason said. There really was nothing he felt he could say to bring even a modicum of comfort to Marie, and he knew it. But it was against him to not try.

“It will get better, Marie. It will.”

Chapter Text

With the arrival of Henry, the Parkers’ lives became exponentially more busy, and processing George’s death was put on the back burner. He wasn’t a fussy baby, in fact, he was strangely quiet most of the time, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t still a lot of work.

Most of the parenting fell to Marie since she was home most often. However, after Jason graduated (an event Marie and Henry did not attend out of fear of who would be in attendance and Henry’s age, much to Jason’s disappointment), he was able to better tailor his work schedule to allow Marie more opportunities to rest.

New to motherhood, Marie was grateful for when Jason’s mother would walk over for a visit. Even though she would have vastly preferred to be visited by George’s mom, a comforting, warm Southern lady with a soft spot for Marie, she appreciated the attention. She also found herself wishing her own mother and father were there to see Henry through his first few weeks of life, in spite of how they treated her after George’s death and even before that. She was never enough, no matter how much she tried. But that didn’t mean she didn’t harbor some sort of lost love for them somewhere in her soul.

Ricky came by once to meet the baby. Marie saw the bags under his eyes, the pastiness of his skin and his messy hair and knew he was still deep into his battle with the bottle, stuck with caretakers who didn’t know what to do with him. She worried that being around Henry, George’s son, would be too much for him and would send him down a guilty spiral, but his mood seemed to improve when he came to visit.

By the time Marie felt comfortable to allow visitors like Ricky over, Henry had grown a downy, thin layer of raven-black hair. The sight made her think of the baby picture of her hung up in the hallway of her childhood home- a black and white portrait that contrasted her dark, curly hair and white skin. Her parents called it her “Betty Boop” Portrait. She wondered if it was still up.

Her own birthday came and went in the weeks following Henry’s, though it almost seemed like it hadn’t. Her 19th birthday was spent feeding, bathing, and cuddling Henry, cooking, and tidying up the house. The only real difference was Jason wrote her a card and got her a small cake from the supermarket bakery- half price because her name was spelled “Mary”.

The toughest thing about the early days of Henry for Marie was working up the courage to go into the nursery. Every time she would go in, baby cradled in her arms, she half expected to see George sitting on his bed, carving a block of wood with his hunting knife, or bouncing a rubber ball off the ceiling, or beneath the covers having an afternoon nap. Marie hoped that whatever part of George that was left in that room could at least feel Henry’s presence in the little bassinet and know he was not forgotten.

One gray Sunday, before Henry was even a month old, Marie was washing dishes from lunch and Jason was sat at their dining room table, thumbing through the newspaper. Henry had been put down for a nap and was sleeping soundly in his nursery. Marie looked up from the dishes for a brief moment to look out their kitchen window. The trees in the yard were waving wildly, the leaves trembling as they clung to the branches. Raindrops pelted the glass, sliding down the clear surface in shimmery trails.

“The wind’s really picked up. I don’t like the look of those clouds either,” Marie noted. Jason put the paper down and peered out the window.

“Hmm. Twister?”

Marie shrugged. “Could turn into one. We’ll see.”

Jason looked back at this newspaper. “Bit late in the season for one now, though. But you never know.”

Just as Marie cleaned the last dish and placed it on the rack to dry, a soft, high groan sounded from somewhere outside the house, growing in volume and increasing in pitch before it slowly wound down again. Thunder roared as a flicker of light shone in through the kitchen window.

“Well, that answers that question.”

Marie leaned forward, her fingers finding the power dial for their Panasonic radio and switching it on.

“…which touched down a few miles northwest of Gallows Creek and is heading northeast. While we are out of the worst of it, high wind speeds, debris and stormy conditions mean it is still dangerous to be outside, so stay inside and take shelter, folks.”

Marie turned the volume of the radio slightly lower.

“It’s out of our way.”

Before Jason could form a response, a muffled cry came out of the nursery. Marie turned and hurried into the room, the siren still faintly wailing against the whistling wind.

“Oh, there you are, honey. It’s okay. You’re okay. Mama’s got you. You’re okay, honey,” Marie cooed to Henry, who was thrashing and screaming in her arms. Jason put his newspaper down and stood up, walking toward them both.

“This has to be his first tornado, huh,” he said, almost to himself. Marie nodded, eyes pointed down at the frightened infant.

“Come on, Henry. I was up all night with you. It’s just some thunder. It won’t hurt you. You can go back to sleep for mama, right?”

Another clap of thunder. Henry wailed again.

Marie looked up, tired and desperate, at Jason.

“He’s not gonna go back down for a while. I’m gonna take him into the bedroom and see if he calms down.”

Jason nodded. “Want me to join you?” He asked. Marie shrugged as she turned around and walked down the hall, yawning as she bounced Henry gently in her arms. Jason followed the two into the room a few minutes later after tidying up his reading station.

Marie was sitting up by the head of the bed, rocking her body from side to side and humming softly over the rumbling storm. Henry’s cries were softer, little yelps of fear far gentler than the terrified wails a few minutes ago.

Jason crawled onto the bed, coming to a sitting position against the headboard.

“Is he doing better?” He asked. Marie nodded silently, a response he could only discern by the shaking of her frizzy black hair.

“Yeah, but he isn’t down yet. Just calmer. The room is much darker than the nursery. He likes the dark to sleep.”

After a few more minutes listening to Marie hum and coo and whistle to Henry, her voice grew softer and less purposeful. Her back began to tilt, and before he really knew what was happening, Marie was leaning her head back on Jason’s shoulder.

Jason looked down at Marie, who sighed tiredly as she rubbed her cheek into his collarbone, still cradling a softly crying Henry in her arms. She looked up at him, bathed in the soft gray light from the bedroom window.

Jason felt his cheeks flush as some feeling, some conviction he’d never felt before and had no conception of its origin nor meaning, bloomed in his mind.

Tearing his eyes from Marie’s gaze, he looked out the window at the storm. Another flash of lightning caused Henry to crinkle his little pink face and sob. Marie adjusted him so his cheek was pressed gently against her chest, the back of his head supported by her soft palm. The thunder rumbled.

Jason looked down at Henry’s dark swirl of hair, desperate for any excuse to ignore the awkwardness.

“Want to hear another story about George?” He asked. Marie nodded against his shoulder, gently stroking Henry’s hair with her thumb.

“Hey, quiet down now, honey. We better listen up now. Jason is gonna tell a story about your papa. Catch your breath, honey. It’s all right.”

Ignoring the small twinge of hurt that pinched his chest at Marie’s wording, he continued to come up with a story.

“This story is from the end of sophomore year. So, y’know, George was almost done with his first year of school here. He’d been in Gallows Creek for about seven months, give or take. And he’d grown up around big storms and floods, but he’d never seen a real life tornado before.”

Marie turned Henry back around, kissing his forehead.

“Your papa wasn’t from around here,” she cooed softly as she smiled. “He was from somewhere called ‘Kentucky’. I know. It sounds funny, doesn’t it? They have many things in Kentucky. They have pretty horsies that run so fast. They have deer. They have big beautiful mountains that go up up high in the air.”

Jason nodded and continued the story.

“So, naturally, when tornado season came around, he was dying to see one. He got the opportunity one day in early May, I’m sure you remember this, Marie. Remember the twister that hit when we were all in school, and we all had to stay there for like an hour before the winds died down enough to go home?”

Marie nodded. “Yeah, it was boring. I played backgammon with the rest of the drama club.”

Jason continued. “Well the thing was pretty darn close. So George turns to me and he goes ‘I wanna see it’. I tell him ‘hey, they’ve got everyone inside for a reason. Those things are dangerous even if we’re far away, let alone within a few miles like we are right now.’ And he’s like ‘I’m sure it’ll be fine, plus, they’re over in minutes, right? I wanna see it before it goes away for good’. So George raises his hand and asks to be excused to the bathroom. What he actually did, though, was walk out the front doors to get a good view of the thing from outside. I know this because about two minutes later, George comes back in the classroom, holding one side of his face. And I’m like, ‘oh boy, here we go’. So George comes and sits next to me again and you know what he says? He goes ‘A leaf done slapped me in the face! Hard!’ And I was like ‘well yeah, what did you think was gonna happen, the twister was gonna give you a hug?’”

Marie chuckled at the anecdote, especially amused at Jason’s attempt at George’s accent. Jason mirrored her merriment.

“And from then on, he swore off anything other than sheltering in place,” Jason said. “Of course, he tried chasing another storm over the Nebraska border in his dad’s pickup two weeks later, but it’s the thought that counts I suppose.”

Marie closed her eyes. “I’d always wondered where he went then. I wouldn’t put it past him. He was always fascinated with all things nature. Always trying to get me outside. Y’know he taught me how to shoot?”

Jason shook his head, reaching his arm around her to pat Henry.

“No, I didn’t.”

Marie swallowed. She was not ready to tell a full anecdote about him without crying, it seemed.

“He did. Wanted to share his hobbies with me. I’m not a very good shot, but he was proud regardless.”

Jason looked back out the window.

“We should go sometime. Together. When Henry is a little more grown up.”

Marie nodded. “I’d like that, I think.”

A month of so later, the heat of summer was in full swing. The shelves of the grocery store were stocked with red, white and blue treats, napkins, decorations and snacks. Half the town was at the park, cooking hot dogs and hamburgers as they watched their kids run around with pinwheels in their hands, wearing goofy sunglasses and patriotic attire. The Fourth of July was one of Marie’s favorite holidays- the warm weather, crystal clear skies (most of the time), nostalgic smells, her mother’s homemade cupcakes she used to help bake, the neighborhood block party- and recalling the year before, sneaking into the adult cooler to grab beer that tasted like watery piss and sitting on her roof with George to watch the fireworks and make out and talk about life. But here she was, sitting inside her house in a tank top and shorts, sweat beading on her pale skin as she rocked her son to sleep in his nursery. Those summers past were nothing more than a memory behind her eyes.

She jumped with a start as she was pulled from her reminiscence by the sound of the door creaking.

Jason entered the nursery with a small paper plate in his hand that held a small square of vanilla cake with red, white and blue frosting smeared across the top.

“Want some cake? The Cartwrights had some extra,” he said, putting the plate down on a shelf. Marie put the now sleeping Henry in his crib and walked over to Jason.

“Oh, thanks,” she said, softly so as not to wake the baby.

Jason cleared his throat.

“Did you, uh, did you want to go and see the party? I can stay here and watch Henry for a bit. I’ve already said hi to everyone. My mom made a fantastic Mac and cheese.”

Marie looked at him, her tired eyes reminding him of a truth her mouth reinforced.

“Who would want to say hi to me? No one. I’d be by myself.”

Jason nodded. “Well, better to be by yourself at a party than by yourself at home, right?”

Marie shook her head as she took the plate in her hand and dug the white plastic fork into it. “Not really,” she said. “Plus, I have Henry.”

Jason exhaled a pitiful attempt at a laugh. “You know being a housewife doesn’t literally mean you stay in the house 100 per cent of the time, right? You deserve to have some fun, Marie. I know you’re super dedicated to Henry, but he’s a baby. All he does is nap and poop and cry. And I love him to bits but he is not what I’d call proper social interaction. You need to get out more.”

Marie sighed. “I love Gallows Creek, but it does not love me. Going out there makes people uncomfortable. Either I remind them of a truth they don’t want to tell, or I represent a piece of the puzzle that doesn’t fit. I’m a loose end to the Gallowses, a lying slut to my parents, and a psychotic bitch to everyone else.”

“Your sister would want to see you.”

Marie scoffed as she swallowed some cake.

“As if my folks would allow that.”

Jason’s eyes went to Henry asleep in his crib, then back to Marie.

“Marie, you are a mother. You’re nineteen years old. You have your own house. Maybe it’s time you stopped giving a shit what your folks would allow.”

Marie took another bite of her cake.

“Like it or not, they know what’s best for Peggy.”

Jason reached out and clasped Marie’s wrist gently. “Did they know what was best for you? Did they not leave you alone and afraid in the cold because you committed the crime of loving someone? Did they not think it was better to keep quiet than tell the truth when their daughter came to them a witness to a death?”

Marie smirked and scoffed a little as she put her fork on her plate.

“‘Loving someone’ is a pretty creative way of phrasing teen pregnancy and all the, uh, details that implies. I’ll give you that. If you’re gonna tell me about how well my parents can be parents, at least get the facts straight. Peggy is too young for all this right now, Jason. I love her with everything I have, but she doesn’t need to be in the middle of this.”

She tried to walk out of the room, but Jason held onto her arm.

“She doesn’t have to be. You can just say hi. You don’t have to tell her anything,” he said.

Marie shook her head. “My presence is the linchpin in this whole situation. The more I show up, the more questions Peggy asks and the more confused and entangled she will become. It’s okay, Jason. Maybe my parents are right to keep her away from me. For now.”

Jason relented, releasing his grip from her forearm.

“Okay, Marie. If that’s how you feel. But you should know they can only control you as much as you let them. That goes for the whole town, too. This town cannot keep you silent forever. I know that,” he said after her in a gentle voice, careful to mind Henry but successful in getting his point across.

Marie stopped, facing the kitchen window. Jason couldn’t see it, but he could hear the smile in her voice.

“And what about you? Will Gallows Creek keep Jason Parker silent?”

There was no answer.

Excitement in Gallows Creek did not end that night. All throughout July there was an air of apprehension and anticipation. Towards the end of the month, the citizens of Gallows Creek- and most other Americans- would be treated to the spectacle of the first ever manned moon landing, broadcast live on television. The takeoff footage was interesting as well, but everyone was stirring for the real main event four days later, on July 20th.

Jason had been over to his parent’s house to watch some animated footage of Apollo 11 in the days leading up to the landing, with Marie again deciding to forgo the television for her son.

“You go be with your family. I need to stay and watch Henry. He shouldn’t leave the house so young.”

At first, Jason just accepted it. It’s not like he could force her to leave, and Henry did need someone to mind him. But that changed on the day of the landing itself. Jason came through the front door a bit before noon, finding Marie feeding Henry on the sofa in the living room.

“Hey, uh, they’re talking about landing the ship soon. Come on over, my folks have the thing on nonstop.”

Marie shook her head. “Sorry, Jason. I don’t think I can. I can’t leave Henry.”

Jason put a hand on his hip. “You missed the Fourth of July, you’re not gonna miss the fucking moon landing, Marie.”

Marie looked back at Henry.

“But who will stay here with him?” She asked. “We can’t really afford a babysitter, not that anyone would miss this to watch a baby, anyway.”

Jason’s eyes darted to the kitchen, and then back to Marie in something close to incredulity.

“Uh… we’re going to bring him? He’s gonna watch, too.”

Marie put the now empty baby bottle down on the coffee table and readjusted Henry in her arms, who was calmly looking at nothing in particular.

“But he’s so small. Your mother said it’s not good to bring him out of the house too much. He could get sick.”

Jason nodded. “Sure,” he admitted, “but it’s just my parents’ house. He’s been around them before. It should be okay, right?”

Marie thought for a moment before shrugging.

“I guess. I mean, I’ve never been a mom before. I wouldn’t know.”

Jason smiled and flicked his long bangs out of his face.

“Sweet, let’s go,” he said. Marie rose up, balancing Henry on her hip, to grab a bag for Henry’s things and put his empty bottle in the sink.

When the three of them made it down the street and into Jason’s parents’ house, the older couple waved them over into the living room, where their small, boxy TV was showing grainy, desaturated footage behind them.

“You guys are just in time. They’re going to land it real soon,” Jason’s dad said. As Marie sat down on the sofa next to Jason’s mom, she reached her arms over to Marie and took Henry and put him into her own lap.

“You can take a break from motherhood just for the afternoon,” she said with a soft, wrinkled smile. Marie smiled half heartedly before sinking into the back cushion of the sofa, exhaling a short sigh as she did so.

They watched the television for about five hours in a trance, no one keen on getting up except to go to the bathroom or to put Henry down for a nap when he got tired, out of fear of missing the moment the bay doors opened up onto that gray, pitted hunk of spacerock.

Eventually, after hours of listening to back and forth radio chatter between the astronauts and control, Armstrong and Aldrin exited the Eagle, floating with each step in a way unlike any human being had ever walked before.

Jason, eyes glued to the television, put an arm around Marie’s shoulders.

“I can’t believe this is real,” he said, almost in a whisper.

“Neither can I,” Marie said, but her joy shrunk in on itself. “I wish George could’ve seen it.”

Jason’s dad chuckled a little bit.

“George? He’s in Heaven. If anything, he’s got a front row seat!”

Marie returned a small giggle, looking up to the tv as the most important sentence of their age was uttered into the grainy nothingness of space.

“That’s one small step for man, one giant leap for mankind.”

Jason’s mom couldn’t help but clap her hands in appreciation and his father nodded and took a drink from his beer.

Marie looked down at Henry, who she’d gotten from one of the bedrooms after he had woken up from his short nap.

“Look at this incredible world you get to grow up in, honey,” she said softly as she rubbed his cheek with her thumb. “Not even the sky is the limit anymore. Just imagine all the things you could do.”

Chapter Text

After the excitement of July, and the quiet passing of August, Henry’s first summer came to an end. As September crept around, and warm breezes swept in, both Marie and Jason were filled with a sinking, creeping dread they didn’t need to talk about to know it was mutual. The cause of their fear was rooted in the uncontrollable fact that time does not wait for anyone to heal before it continues marching forward. The two were forced to confront the fact that it had almost been one full year since George died.

They spent September 2nd in a somber mood. Gallows Creek seemed the most surreal and hollow it had ever felt- the vast majority of their graduating class had moved away, either for college or to seek better opportunities for work, or enlisted in the military in hopes of escaping the worst of the impending Vietnam military draft. The adults in town seemed tense, as if they were simply trying to get through the month, desperately hoping no one would bring up the tragedy.

The sun disappearing behind small westward hills added an even heavier layer of unease to the evening. On the street Marie, Jason and Henry lived, a few of the white-picket houses were home to kids in years below them, including a few in that year’s graduating class. As dusk faded solidly into night, Jason hoped that those kids wouldn’t follow in his woeful footsteps for their own sakes, and for his and Marie’s.

He placed too much faith in them.

After Henry had been put to bed and Marie and Jason were sitting at the kitchen table, barely able to keep themselves awake as they thumbed through books or newspapers to make the most of what little time to relax they each had, the sound of children laughing in the street caught Jason’s attention.

“They wouldn’t…” he whispered to himself.

Marie looked up from her book briefly before bending one of its pages and closing the cover, standing up to walk to their shared bedroom.

Then the whistling started. An ache like nothing they’d ever had tore its way through both of their stomachs, and the color drained from their faces as all rational thoughts were replaced with fear.

Marie whipped around to face the sound, a hand in her chest and a look of wild terror contorting her eyes and mouth.

Jason pushed out his chair and made his way around the table in a few hurried strides just as Marie began to scream.

He wrapped his arms around her, cradling her head into his shoulder and holding an arm across her back as he felt her sobs radiate into him.

“It’s okay, it’s just stupid kids, they don’t know any better,” he said, trying to remove the echoes of her screams in those dark woods from his mind. Marie continued to wail, the initial terror from reliving her own experiences shifting to despondent sadness as the whistling grew faint. Jason patted her back and held her close through her tears, until her hands came up between them and she pushed him away. Her sadness and re-tapped grief had transformed once again, this time to anger.

“It’s hard enough tonight without those fucking kids making it worse! How insensitive and pig headed can they be?!” She roared, hot tears tracking down her reddened cheeks.

Jason puts his hands on her shoulders, steadying her. He could feel her body shaking with rage.

“I know. I know. But they don’t know we’re here. They don’t know what we lived through.”

Marie brushed his hands off her shoulders aggressively, taking another step back.

“Yes they do. Or they wouldn’t be doing that stupid whistle. They’re only doing it because of Teddy’s prank. They don’t care George died. They probably don’t even remember his name. He’s just some ghost story to them.”

Jason did not relent in his attempt to calm her. He put one hand on her shoulder again and squeezed gently.

“Listen, I get you’re upset, but any more screaming and you’re gonna wake the baby. It’s a miracle he didn’t wake up already, honestly. You know what, we should just call it an early night tonight. Get some sleep. This is a really tough night and it’s probably better we just get to bed instead of riding it out.”

Marie took a few heaving breaths, eyes focused on his feet below her, before flicking her gaze up to him again and nodding. Her anger had dissipated almost as quickly as it had arrived.

“Okay. Okay. You’re right. Let’s just go to bed.”

When Jason woke up the next morning, it wasn’t to his usual alarm for work. He’d called in asking for the day off, citing an important commitment. In reality, he’d called off to take the day to grieve. The coroner (and the Gallowses) had perpetuated the narrative that George died at around 9pm on the night of the 2nd, most likely picked due to its implied demonstration of how severely alcohol dependent George was, but Jason knew better. He’d actually died in the early morning hours of September 3rd. Therefore, that day was the true day of mourning. And he’d decided he could sleep in a little and rest.

But resting was not what Marie had planned that day. When Jason walked into the noisy, bustling kitchen, hair combed and teeth brushed ready for a day of somber reflection at home, Marie wasn’t dressed in her normal lounging outfits. She was readily dressed as if to go to work or school, and her hair was brushed to be as orderly as it could be with her texture, pulled out of her face with a headband.

She turned around as Jason approached, balancing Henry on her hip and a spatula in her other hand.

“Oh, good. You’re awake.”

“What’s going on? Why are you all dressed up?”

She turned back to the pan of eggs on the stove.

“Well, you know what day it is, today. I’ve got things to do.”

Jason furrowed his brow. “Things, what things?”

Marie scooped the eggs onto two plates, turning back to Jason a bit annoyed.

“Are you gonna come with me or not?”

Jason looked down at Henry, who had a blank expression on his pudgy little face. He didn’t seem particularly phased about much of anything.

“Is Henry coming?”

Marie blinked. “If you’re coming, then yes. If you’re staying here, then you’re watching him.”

Jason looked up at her again.

“All right. Just let me get dressed again and I’ll be ready to eat and go.”

Marie nodded, picking Henry off her hip and holding him to her shoulder as she walked around with her breakfast.

After they’d both finished eating and were walking to the door, Marie shifted Henry to one hip and pointed at a filled-up bag by the door.

“Hey, could you grab that? Thanks,” she asked as she opened the door.

Jason grabbed the bag and followed her out the door.

“What’s this for? What are we doing!”

“You’ll see. Oh, make sure to bring Henry’s stroller, it’s going to be a while.”

Jason went back inside and retrieved the small, wheeled device.

After a few minutes of walking down the street, Marie got tired of carrying Henry and placed him in the little cart. Jason hung the bag off of one of the handlebars before Marie put her hands around them to push. They walked all the way from the northeast to the southwest of town, through little rural streets lined with shops and houses and parks, until they came to a long road with only one building at the end.

“…why are we at the dance studio?” Jason asked. Marie was a theater aficionado, but in his years of knowing her, he was pretty sure she practiced dancing for shows in the school gym, not in this privately owned establishment on the edge of town.

“Because I want to know something.”

The relevance of the studio-and the woman who owned it- flashed back into Jason’s mind as Marie reached for the door handle.

“Marie, what are you going to do-“

“Well, hi there! Welcome in! What a cute baby!”

The woman behind the front desk was a peppy blonde maybe six or seven years older than Marie and Jason, so about twenty-six. Her shoulder length hair was tied up in a purple ribbon and she was wearing a yellow top. Her voice was light and friendly, accented with a bit of a stronger, more Northern sounding accent. Jason guessed Minnesota.

Marie knew who she was, but wanted to double-check in case her months spent indoors had messed with her memory.

“Are you Sandra?”

The woman in the chair smiled warmly.

“That’s me! What can I do for you?”

Marie’s face did not meet her kindness. Instead, it was intense, determined and cold.

“I need you to tell me where you found George’s body last year.”

Sandra blinked a few times, being taken aback. Usually when people came in, they wanted to ask about class schedules or private lessons. Asking about a dead body was certainly a new one.

“Well, you read the papers, didn’t you? It was the reservoir.” Her eyes darted back and forth from Marie to Jason, then back to Marie. “Who are you? And why do you want to ask about that?”

Marie sighed, exasperatedly looking up at the ceiling before looking back to Sandra.

“We knew him when he was alive. We’re friends. And we know that story is bullshit. Please just tell us where you found him.”

Sandra’s mild concern and confusion then became a nervous, fearful grimace.

“That’s… the truth. Sorry.”

Marie was getting impatient.

“No, it isn’t. Where did you find him?”

A soft blush colored Sandra’s cheeks.

“I told you already, the reservoir. Now, if you don’t have a question about dancing, you should… you should probably go.”

Jason put his hand on Marie’s shoulder, turning her toward him.

“Hey, she doesn’t look okay. Someone must be scaring her into lying.” Jason looked back at Sandra.

“Is someone telling you to lie?”

Sandra nodded slowly.

Marie looked around.

“Well, no one else is here. You can tell us. We won’t tell anyone,” she reassured, calmer now.

Sandra closed her eyes and took a deep breath before sighing, her shoulders dropping.

“The river.”

A small part of Marie’s brain responded “uh, yeah, duh,”, but on the outside she gently put a hand on Sandra’s desk.

“Where specifically, Sandra?”

Sandra’s blonde eyebrows furrowed and her forehead creased as she looked at Marie with an uneasy countenance.

“I don’t really… know how to describe it.”

Marie tried again.

“Could you take us there?”

Sandra frowned for a moment before reaching under her desk and pulling out a piece of paper with a handwritten note-

“Be back soon!”

Sandra stood up, pushing her rolling chair out and walked around Marie and Jason to the glass front of her studio, sticking the paper writing-side out to the window with a piece of tape. She opened the door, her ponytail swishing as she gestured outside with her head.

“Come on. I’ll take you.”

The trio of adults (plus little Henry in his stroller) walked to the other side of town, past the high school, where the tamed tarmac streets gave way to gravel and a layer of trees that grew more and more dense the further in they looked.

“This is where I started my run,” Sandra explained, a quiver in her throat.

Marie nodded, but kept her insistent, stern attitude.

“I want to see where you found the body.”

Sandra cleared her throat.

“Okay, but, it’s been a year… and it was at night, so I might not recognize the spot…”

“Just try.”

They all started down the dirt path, which narrowed considerably as brush and bushes obscured its sides. Sunlight shone in patches down onto the path, illuminating patches of hair and clothing as they walked.

They walked for a long time. Longer than Marie had anticipated. As they tread along the river’s edge, Marie looked around at the shimmering woods. They’d been walking for at least a mile. She didn’t make it this far the last time she was here. She wished she had.

After a bit more walking, Sandra came to a stop along the running trail. Her arm raised up slowly, pointing her finger at a spot on the riverbank a few feet away.

“There. By that rock.”

Marie and Jason looked to where she was pointing. To their eyes, nothing looked particularly out of the ordinary. It was just a pebbly riverbed, dusted in silt and decomposing leaves. The river was a calm, steady flow, pushing ripples against the bank and around the larger stones that poked above its surface.

Marie’s eyes remained fixated on that spot for a few moments as Sandra shifted her weight awkwardly, flicking her blonde ponytail over her shoulder.

Jason looked over at the woman and gave a small gesture with his hand.

“I think you can go now, Sandra,” he offered softly. Sandra didn’t hesitate to take him up on that offer. He watched her jog back up the river trail before turning back to Marie, who was still frozen.

“Are you okay, Marie? Maybe this wasn’t the best idea. How about we just…go home?” He asked tentatively.

Marie didn’t answer. Instead, her head tilted up, looking at the trees on the other side of the riverbank. Then, her gaze fell on the trees on the side of the river where she was standing. Once again, her head slowly drifted back to the other side of the river. Then straight ahead toward the horizon, staring down the parade of trees on either side of the river.

Jason took a step toward her again, pushing Henry along with him.

“You, uh…” he tried to say, but nothing came to mind.

Suddenly, Marie turned around, seemingly through with her survey of the area. She walked past Jason and Henry, back up in the direction Sandra went.

Jason followed her back to where the trail turned left into town again, expecting her to go down that way and eventually, back to their home, having taken the time she needed to grieve. But after Marie passed up the intersection between trails, keeping her eyes forward to the trees ahead, Jason got a sinking feeling in his stomach.

Cautiously, he kept behind her, watching as occasional dots of sunlight moved through her hair and off her shoulders. His heart sank when he felt the ground start to slope upwards, and his view forward was obscured by bushes, trees and dirt building higher and higher.

To his immediate relief, Marie turned right back down to the river’s very edge, stepping over foliage and rocks to be able to walk along the smooth pebbles. Jason tried to fit the stroller through, but the wheels kept getting caught in the plants and on rocks. He looked on as Marie continued to walk upriver, her hands out to her sides to maintain balance.

He watched her walk until she was almost obscured by the sheer rock face to her left. Marie paused, turned and craned her neck upward, seemingly trying to measure some sort of distance or angle. After she had apparently satisfied herself, she turned back to the river.

At this point in the river, the waters flowed quick, with white bubbles collecting as the water hit some of the larger rocks. It looked roughly twenty feet across at its widest, whereas back down where they were with Sandra, it seemed about seven feet across, and was flowing much slower.

Marie looked out over the rippling stream, the light from between the trees dancing on the surface. Jason stood frozen as he watched her survey the current. Then, her legs began to move. One of her sneakers sunk itself between stones, saturating itself with the cool water. Her other foot stepped farther forward, this time obscuring everything below her socks in water.

Jason gripped the stroller tightly, a sharp shock of worry running up his spine. In an instant, he realized what the stuffed bag hanging off the cart was for.

“Marie!” He called out to her as her bell-bottom jeans became almost fully saturated with inky darkness.

If she did hear him over the bubbling water, she certainly didn’t make it known. Jason’s yell startled little Henry awake, brown eyes wide and confused as he searched around for the cause of the sudden noise. Eventually, he looked out over the water with eyes that had only recently begun to understand depth. By this point, only Marie’s back and raven black hair were visible above the water. Henry chirped in confusion.

Jason opened his mouth to call Marie back to shore again, but stopped short. With the water up to her chest, the tips of Marie’s hair melted by the river and stuck to her upper back and shoulders. She stood for a moment, taking in the view of the opposite bank, before her head disappeared under the water. Jason’s hand gripped the handle of the stroller tight, his knuckles bare white, but the pulse of panic subsided again when Marie resurfaced, her hair a pool of spilled ink down her face and shoulders. She gasped for air, her panting growing softer and softer until she stood statue-still in the middle of the river, facing downstream. And then she began to move.

Her feet glided through the water, canvas shoes keeping her toes protected as they tapped against submerged rocks and branches. Her arms treaded in wide strokes, keeping her upright as she performed her own sort of spacewalk through the river. She was still walking along the riverbed, but the weightlessness of being mostly submerged in water and the current driving her forward from behind made her feel like how she imagined Aldrin and Armstrong did.

Once she started to move, Jason hurriedly tried to push the stroller out of the bushes and follow her back down the river. She didn’t make a sound- not that he could’ve heard her if she did say anything over the rippling river and the squeaking wheels of the stroller. Her gaze was fixed slightly upward, watching the tree branches filled with their late summer leaves of green and yellow pass over her as she stepped over rocks and disturbed the sediment below her feet.

As she continued to float, the amount of her body visible above water began to increase. After some amount of time she deemed sufficient for reasons unknown to Jason, her walk forward began to list to the side so her hips cut through the water at a small diagonal. Eventually, now with the water only up to her ankles at the side of the river, she stopped. Jason, a distance behind her, slowed to a stop.

“Marie?” He tried again. He wanted to ask what all this was for, but his question came to an answer when he looked past her at the trees on the other side of the riverbank. She was standing right where Sandra had pointed to. It was so easy to picture what a body there would have looked like- blonde hair made a waterlogged brown waving between stones, a drenched shoulder and hip collecting ripples, the light red-orange fog of leaking blood collecting under a blue neck.

Knowing exactly what he’d find, he unzipped the bag and pulled out one of their white bath towels.

Marie walked over the rocks to dry land, reaching out for the towel.

“You’re soaked. Are you cold?” Jason asked as she wrapped the towel around her. It was early autumn, so the weather wasn’t nearly as cold as it could have been, but the temperature of the flowing river was still enough to give anyone a mild chill.

“I’m okay. Let’s go home,” Marie answered, her footsteps leaving blots of dampness along the dirt path.

Jason followed her closely.

“You wanted to do all that, with Sandra and everything… for this?” He asked. Marie sighed and hung her head, water dripping from her hair and down her face.

“I know. It’s stupid. Sorry for dragging you both out here. I just had to- I don’t know- see it all from where he was.”

Jason pushed up to her side, keeping pace with her footsteps.

“No, no, I didn’t mind at all. Honestly, it’s good to see you out of the house. And you… you do whatever you need to do. I get it. Grief is strange.”

Marie nodded in agreement, wrapping the towel closely around her as her clothes continued to drip water onto the ground. As they exited the woods and returned to town, Jason looked over at Marie again.

“Hey, what if after we get you home and warmed up, we go pay George a visit? We can bring Henry. It would be the first time he’s gone to see his old man.”

Marie nodded back and smiled faintly.

“I’d like that.”

Chapter Text

Much like Marie earlier in the year, Jason didn’t get to do much to celebrate his nineteenth birthday. He got up early in the morning before the sun had finished rising, put on a thick winter coat and braved the November weather on his way to work. He had obligations to his new family, and making sure they were safe and warm and fed was more important in the moment than staying home and reading books or listening to the radio or whatever else he would have done. Coming back home, though, he was surprised to walk in the door and see his parents along with Ricky standing around their small dining table with incredibly rich smells in the air making his mouth water. As he was greeting his friends and relatives, taking a few more steps into the house, Marie walked around the kitchen carrying a gorgeous plate of food. He caught her eye as she set it down, and she gave a brief , closed-mouth smile before flicking her eyes away down the hall, her smile disappearing as she went to retrieve little Henry for the festivities. He was also surprised with a homemade cake that might not have looked the prettiest but tasted fantastic. Jason briefly recalled Marie mentioning her mother liked to bake cupcakes.

He had Christmas off, which he and Marie spent at his parents’ house watching whatever Christmas themed programming was playing on tv. Marie and Mrs. Parker were supposed to be trading off cooking and watching Henry, but Mrs. Parker wanted to dote on who was, at least legally speaking, her grandson, so Marie silently agreed to do the majority of the cooking so she could spend more time with Henry.

They had a slow morning Christmas Day, exchanging little gifts on the living room sofa while soft Christmas music played over the radio. It was soft enough that when an old truck drove slowly up their street, it’s grumbling engine reverberating off of the brightly painted homes, Marie turned to the front door. She stood still, waiting for something to happen, but after a few more seconds, the sound began to disappear down the other end of the street and fade into the music. Something in her gut told her that wasn’t just any old truck, but she had no idea why it sounded so familiar to her.

She got up slowly, placing Henry’s wiggling body into Jason’s lap. She walked to the door and put her hand on the handle. When she turned it, she half expected there to be someone behind it, but of course, when she opened the door enough to see out, there was nothing except the empty front yard filled with dry grass.

Marie was about to close the door before too much hot air escaped the house but something caught her eye as she looked down at the doorknob. There on the porch were two individually wrapped gifts, one an odd shape and one rectangular, each wrapped in shiny blue and silver paper.

She bent down and picked up the two packages, scanning the street for anyone who could have been responsible, before retreating into the warm house.

“Someone… dropped these off,” she said, holding the two gifts in her arms. Jason furrowed his eyebrows at the surprise presents.

“Bring them over, let’s see what they are.”

Henry chirped happily as his mother walked back over and sat down next to him, calling Jason’s attention downward. He smiled, squeezing Henry tighter and planting a kiss in his shiny black hair before looking back up at Marie.

“Did they come with a card or a note or anything?”

Marie shook her head, examining the more oddly shaped package. The wrapping had been done crudely but with the correct technique, as if the person who wrapped it was in a hurry or out of practice. She tore the paper off, revealing a soft, brown, stuffed bear with a white and blue ribbon around its neck. She smiled as she handed the bear to Henry.

“I think this belongs to you, honey,” she chuckled. Henry grasped the toy, which was just a bit smaller than he was, seemingly admiring it silently while Marie picked up the rectangular present and started to unwrap it. The wrap job was the same- the basics were down, but it seemed rushed.

As Marie tore one side of paper off, she gasped sharply and a hand flew to her mouth. Jason’s eyes snapped from Henry to her, searching her face for any clue as to the cause of the outburst.

“What is it, Marie? What’s wrong? Are you okay?”

Marie said nothing and instead tore the rest of the wrapping paper off. Hot tears pooled in the corners of her brown eyes as she held what appeared to be a small, rectangular red box.
Jason leaned over to get a better look at the item. It looked to be a cassette tape- a new technology that had exploded in mainstream popularity in the last few years. He owned a few himself. But he wasn’t sure why a cassette tape in its case would make Marie cry.

“A cassette?” He asked tentatively. She nodded, turning it over.

“My cassette,” she explained. “It was in my dad’s music collection in his office when I was kicked out. He must have left these.”

Jason looked at the other side of the cassette that was now face up. It seemed to have some sort of writing on it, though to him it was upside down and thus illegible.

“What song is it?”

Marie sniffled. “It’s a, uh, Barn Finds cassette. George got it for me. Here,” she said as she turned the cassette and handed it over to Jason, who took it with one hand still wrapped around Henry.

Looking down at the cassette, Jason could now see the writing was an autograph.

“It’s autographed!”

Marie wiped her cheek and smiled.

“Yeah, it is. It was part of my eighteenth birthday gift. That was probably the best day of my life. George and I-“ Marie’s voice halted. She hung her head, wiping her eyes with the back of her hand. “Sorry.”

“That’s okay. Take your time,” Jason reassured her. Marie shook her head slightly.

“I don’t think I can tell a story about him without crying, yet.”

Jason nodded in understanding. “That’s all right. You’ll get there. I would really like to know the story behind this, though. I know he loved that band a lot.”

Marie nodded, taking the cassette out of Jason’s hand and placing it on the coffee table.

“He got me into them. They’re a-“ she sniffled, “-really popular band down where he was from. He had a few of their records.”

Jason nodded, cuddling Henry tighter. Not that he would have noticed, as he was still enthusiastically waving around the stuffed bear. “So that was a birthday gift?”

Marie chuckled as another tear tracked down her cheek. “Well, sort of. Part of it. George stopped by my house and gave me this cassette. He knew it was my favorite song. And when I thanked him for the present he said…” Marie’s voice broke again, and she swallowed the extra spit and bile. “He said ‘that’s not even the whole gift. Look what I’ve got’. And he pulls out two concert tickets from his pocket, telling me they’re playing in a few weeks and we were going to go.”

Jason allowed her a moment to collect herself after her last sentence choked a sob out of her. Marie blinked, pressing her eyelids down hard to squeeze any remaining tears from her eyes.

“Wow, that’s a pretty cool gift. Where was the concert?” He asked. She wiped her face with her sleeve.

“Kansas City. We drove down, took about two hours. Sang along to the radio the whole way down. Then we watched the show. And George, you know how he was around people he didn’t know and big crowds. Shy and all that. But I swear I’d never seen him so excited. He got us right up to the front row. And when they walked off stage, he followed them for a little while along the fence, dragging me behind him by the hand. He called out to the lead singer and went ‘Hey! This concert’s a birthday present for my girl. Could you sign her cassette so she’s got something to remember it by?‘. And I’ll be damned if he didn’t stop and talk to us and sign that cassette. He was so friendly and kind. I was too shocked to speak as I was just mentally combusting the whole time, but George explained how the song on the cassette was our favorite and how much we’d bonded over that album.”

She took another breath as Jason listened intently. Even Henry was seemingly interested in what his mother was saying.

“When it was over, there was no way we were driving back home that late, especially not after bumming a few drinks from older concertgoers. So we stayed at a motel before driving home the next morning.” Marie sighed, sniffling and looking up at their ceiling. “I still think that was the best day of my life.”

Jason smiled earnestly. “That’s a really nice story, Marie. He’d told me you two went to a concert, but he didn’t say any of that. Sure sounds like it was a fun night.”

Marie giggled a little bit and nodded. Her eyes sparkled with tears and her cheeks and nose were still irritated and red. “It sure was. Didn’t even matter that my birthday was weeks prior.”

Henry made an attempt to escape Jason’s grasp, but he held tight. “Hey, my parents have a cassette player at their house. We should borrow it sometime and listen to that song,” he said.

Marie’s eyes went wide and her hands came up between them.

“Oh, no, no, that’s okay,” she responded hastily. “I don’t think I could ever listen to that album, let alone that song, again.”

Jason’s smile faded. “But it’s your favorite song, right? It has such happy memories attached to it.”

Marie’s face contorted in emotion once again. “That’s the point. I’d be reminded of those memories and remember how much I lost. I can’t do it, Jason.”

Jason cocked his head a little, unwinding one arm from around Henry, who was still masterminding an escape plan, and patted Marie’s shoulder softly.

“It’s gonna be okay, eventually. One day it’s not gonna hurt so much. Then we can give it a listen.”

New Years came and went by in a festive blur. Valentine’s Day too passed without much mention in the Parker household. It went without saying that even though Marie and Jason were legal partners, friendship was really all that could be ascribed to their relationship. Marie inquired as to why Jason hadn’t gone out and gotten himself a girlfriend yet, to which he replied “not too many girls out there want to date a married man, no matter what circumstances it was for.”

He didn’t dare ask her why she hadn’t gone looking for a boyfriend. For all intents and purposes, she still had one that could not be overshadowed or bested by some random Gallows Creek townie.

But Marie had made it a point to get herself out of the house more in the new year, despite the cold, cold early spring weather. Getting groceries was one such way she could maximize time out of the house, stopping to exchange brief pleasantries with people like Ricky when she saw him about.

She wasn’t expecting to bump into Kim Walker in the cereal aisle, though.

“Kim?” Marie asked, squinting her eyes at the young lady with waist length brown hair bent over to inspect a shelf of boxes. Kim stood upright, swishing her hair over her shoulder. When she saw it was Marie who called her, her acting background did little to cover her unease.

“Oh, hi, Marie,” she said quietly.

Marie looked at her, confused. “What are you doing here? I thought you and Peter went back to college after winter break?”

Kim shuffled her feet, eyeing the shelves beside them.

“Well, we came back.”

“But didn’t the semester just begin? Why would you come back to Gallows Creek?” Marie asked. Kim’s face began to flush a light pink.

“Pete’s looking for a job, here,” she explained. “We… we dropped out.”

Marie was taken aback. “Dropped out? Why would you drop out? I’d give anything to be able to go to college. “

Kim huffed uncomfortably, crossing her arms and looking down at the ground. “I’m pregnant, Marie. God.”

Marie blinked. “Wow. You guys gonna get married?” Kim nodded timidly.

“We’re still planning it. Gonna send out invites next week.”

Marie was gentler with her tone. “And… how does Peter feel about this news?”

Kim’s frown broke, revealing a hint of her usual fun loving grin.

“He’s over the moon. A bit mad about college, but he can’t wait to be a dad.” Her smile dropped again. “But I just… I don’t know what to do. I’m scared, Marie.”

“Do your folks know?”

Kim nods. “Yeah. We’re living with my folks now until we can save up for a house or apartment. But I just… everything’s so up in the air right now. I don’t know what’s going on.”

Marie tried her best to not let her internal thoughts taint her outward appearance. Oh, how she would’ve loved to have surprised George with the news they’d be parents, and laugh as he picked her up and spun her around before immediately proposing to her in her back garden, too excited to keep still. She would’ve loved her parents to have reacted to the news with appropriate shock but also enthusiasm at the prospect of grandchildren, saying ‘of course, you can stay with us as long as you like!’ She would’ve loved a beautiful outdoor wedding and a flowery white dress and to stand next to the love of her life as they swore their lives to each other. She would’ve loved to be kept awake at night by George at her stomach whispering nonstop to their growing little bundle of joy. How dare this girl, Kim, whose penchant for joking and drama landed her right in the middle of the event that caused the worst night of Marie’s life, get the happily ever after she felt she deserved? It just wasn’t fair.

“Well, it’s a huge responsibility, but I know you two can handle it together. It’s gonna take a lot of effort,” was all Marie said. “Trust me, I would know.”

Kim nodded. “That’s why I decided to tell you just now. I thought you would understand.”

Marie pursed her lips together awkwardly. Not that it could’ve been avoided, considering how small the town is and how much people like to talk, but everyone knowing she had a child bothered her a little bit. It was the remnants of shame she couldn’t help but still hold onto.

“Marie?” Kim asked, focusing back on Marie’s face, looking in her eyes.

“Yeah?”

Kim’s eyes darted back and forth under her long dark eyelashes. “Was it difficult?”

Marie frowned. “What do you mean? Was what difficult?”

Kim licked her bottom lip and swallowed nervously. “Like, having the baby. I’m just scared is all.”

Marie exhaled through her nose as a small smile brightened her face and her eyebrow dipped to meet one set of lashes. “Giving birth? No shit it was difficult. Physically, the worst thing I’ve ever done. Nothing could come close.” Kim’s eyes went wide and her face got a bit paler. Marie patted her upper arm.

“But don’t worry about it. The doctors are nice. Plus, you’ve got your parents and Peter there to support you. You won’t have to do it alone. And you get a cute, cuddly baby at the end. You’ll be so happy you won’t even remember it.” Marie tried not to let the overhead supermarket lights catch the tears in her eyes.

Kim brightened again, returning to her usual bubbly self.

“You’re so right. I don’t have much to be worried about at all, do I? Thanks for the advice, Marie.” Kim came close to Marie and wrapped her arms around her back. While still hugging her, she spoke to Marie in a much softer voice.

“And I really am sorry. For your loss. For everything. I never wanted any of this. But the boys have me gagged. I hope you understand.”

Marie tried to blink the tears away and extinguish the flicker of rage in her heart, squeezing her old schoolmate back.

“Thanks, Kim. It wasn’t your fault.”
Kim let Marie go, looking at her with something close to pity before chuckling.

“God, look at us. Married with kids at nineteen. Fuck this fucking town.”

Marie chuckled half-heartedly along with her.

“Yeah, for sure. And hey,” Marie shrugged, “if you ever need advice or someone to talk to, chances are I’ll be home so feel free to come call.”

Kim nodded. “I will. Thanks, Marie.”

Marie walked out of the aisle with her food. It wasn’t that she felt obligated to help Kim out- far from it. She was actually quite bitter about it. After everything that’s happened, why would any of those people deserve kindness? But Marie offered anyway because somewhere in her, she remembered how scared and alone she felt before Henry was born, and she would have greatly appreciated having a peer who went through it all before her to talk to. Granted, it was the grief that really affected her, but any support she could have gotten would have been nice.

“Guess who I saw at the supermarket today?” Marie said from the kitchen as Jason closed the front door behind him, taking his thick winter coat off and hanging it up on the coat hanger by the door.

“Who?”

Marie stirred something in a pot on the stove.

“Kim Walker.”

Jason threw his eyebrows up as he untied his shoelaces.

“No kidding. I thought she was back in college already.”

Marie shook her head.

“Nope. She’s here for good. Peter’s back, too.”

Jason straightened up. “What? Why?”

Marie turned to get some dishes behind her.

“She got pregnant.”

Jason sat down in one of the dining chairs.

“Whoa, no shit. Really?”

Marie nodded. “Mhm. They both dropped out to raise the baby together.” She chuckled to herself. “So uh, you should probably start expecting a visit from Pete asking you to be a groomsman in the next few weeks.”

Jason laughed with her. “Naturally.”

Marie walked around the kitchen counter with plates of food.

“Can you believe that, though? More kids from our classmates. Something must be in the water here,” Marie joked lightly as she sat down. The two of them shared a glance -just a fleeting one- before focusing on dinner in front of them. Jason cleared his throat nervously before taking a bite.

“So uh, how was Henry today?” He asked after swallowing.

Marie finished her bite. “Great. He’s damn fast though. I barely set him down and he’s practically on the other side of the room. I didn’t know babies could crawl that fast.”

Jason smiled again and took another bite. “Well, at least we know he’s on target,” he joked. “Good for him.” Marie agreed.

“Yeah. His dad would sure be proud.”

The jovial mood was sucked right out of the room, folding back into cold sobriety and awkwardness.

“How was… how was work?” Marie asked. Jason shrugged.

“Okay, I guess. I think I’m gonna get promoted.”

“Well, that’s… gonna help us.”

“Yeah.”

“Yeah.”

They ate the rest of their dinners mostly in silence. It wasn’t necessarily out of the norm for them to do so, as Marie had been in a permanent state of exhaustion ever since Henry was born, and Jason was always tired from work, but bringing up George would sometimes result in a truly awkward moment. He was still somewhat of a sore subject for both of them. The least reason of which being Jason’s awkward position in the family dynamic- he had taken a paternal role for Henry for almost a year now, yet Marie insisted he was just ‘Jason’. It seemed no matter how much he did for Henry, for their family, the title of ‘Dad’ was reserved for a man who hadn’t been there for Henry one day of his little life. It had recently occurred to Jason that this, what would normally be an expected part of their arrangement, bothered him . But something told him it wasn’t the night to bring that up.

After washing their dishes, the pair headed straight to bed to take advantage of Henry already being asleep. They settled in, burying themselves under the covers to escape the cold, early spring night.

“Goodnight, Marie,” Jason said as he turned off the lamp at his bedside, plunging the room into cold darkness.

“‘Night, Jason.” He heard her say before he turned over, closing his eyes and letting the world fade away around him.

Chapter Text

Marie’s joking prediction about Jason’s involvement in the coming nuptials was right on the money. A few days after Marie’s talk with Kim, Jason came home from his day out and hung his coat up on the coat rack.

“Well, Peter asked me to be a groomsman,” he said. Marie snorted as she wiped debris off the dining table. Before Jason came home, Henry had decided that it was, in fact, not lunch time, but spill-all-of-his-applesauce-on-the-table time. He looked at Jason with a calm smile as he came in, clearly chuffed with himself.

“Well all knew that was coming. You gonna do it?” She responded.

Jason walked by Henry, taking a napkin and passing it over his chubby cheek before gently patting him on the head.

“I think so. But there’s also something else,” he added. Marie furrowed her eyebrows.

“Huh?”

Jason blinked. “Kim asked me to ask you if you want to be a bridesmaid.”

Marie stood upright, stomping on the pedal of their kitchen trash can and dropping the soiled paper towels inside with a bit more force than necessary.

“What?” She asked, her face wrinkling in on itself in confusion.

“She wants you with her when she gets married. She says you know what she’s going through.”

Marie’s nose stayed wrinkled when the rest of her face relaxed.

“No, I know that, but what makes her think I’d accept? Why would she think I want to stand in front of all those people? Doesn’t she know I hate this town? Especially that dipshit she’s marrying,” Marie mumbled, the ghost of someone impossibly distant yet familiar infecting her words. Jason nodded understandingly, but wanted to try to make her see reason.

“I know, but Ricky and I are going to be there. It’ll be fine, right? Just for a day. I’m sure Henry would be entertained,” he offered unconvincingly.

Marie scoffed. “You couldn’t pay me to be in the same room as Peter. He’s nothing more than one of Teddy’s lap dogs.” Her eyes suddenly went wide, the mild annoyance on her face transforming into blazing anger. “Oh Christ, Teddy’s probably going to be there, too, isn’t he?”

Jason winced. “Most likely.”

Marie picked Henry up out of his chair. “Yeah. Absolutely not, then. Not a chance. But you go and have fun.”

The wedding was a few weeks later, and was every bit as idyllic and serene and perfect as Marie secretly hoped it wouldn’t be. The ceremony was in the town church, with an outdoor reception in the park. Trees and benches were decorated with white and pink balloons, some amatrue Beatles cover band was belting hit after hit on a makeshift temporary stage. Though the majority of the wedding party was not exactly legal, a cooler filled with different drinks slowly dwindled in stock as the afternoon went on. Despite being a part of the wedding, Ricky left early into the reception to get away from all the drinking, a decision Jason silently commended him for.

“Some day”, Peter reflected as he pulled the tab off a beer, looking at his new wife and her bridesmaids laughing and screaming and throwing themselves around in the grass. Her dress was so decorated with lace and fabric and so loose, you could barely tell she was pregnant at all. Most people didn’t know.

Jason nodded, taking a sip of his own drink.

“Blows that Marie couldn’t come. She would’ve been nice in the bridal party.” He chuckled. “Kimmy was mad she had to invite Catherine instead, because she’s blonde and everyone else had dark hair.”

Jason looked over at Peter. “You know she wouldn’t come because of you guys, right? Have you really already forgotten?”

Peter’s grey eyes looked out the side of his wire-framed glasses, away from Teddy who was making a drunken spectacle of himself trying to flirt with one of the bridesmaids in the center of the dancing.

“Huh?”

“She wouldn’t come because of you and Teddy. And if Chuck could be here, it’d be because of him, too. I can’t believe you’d expect her to forgive you so easily.”

Peter took a swig. “She seemed okay with Kimmy when they talked.”

“Yeah, well, at least Kim apologized for what happened. And they’re acquaintances at best.” Jason cleared his throat. “You have to make it right with Marie or she’s never gonna come call for your wife. And Kim needs the support. Your kid needs a friend. So you better try to do the right thing. You won’t ever be able to make up for it all completely, but you can at least try.”

The message seemed to sink in, as a few months after Henry celebrated his first birthday, the Parkers got a knock on their door. When Marie opened it, Henry in her arms, she looked out to see Kim and Peter Stine at her door. In Kim’s arms was a tiny bundle of light green fabric.

Marie stood stunned, unsure what to do. To break the awkward silence, Kim sighed dramatically, whipping her hair out of her face, going “Whew! Sure is a windy one today. Would you mind if we step inside?”

Marie blinked before scratching her scalp awardly, stepping aside and opening the door wider.

“Uh- yeah- come on in.”

As the two walked in and Marie shut the door behind them, Jason walked out of their shared bedroom, his hair damp from a shower earlier that morning.

“Peter. Kim,” he said in mild surprise. Kim shifted her baby to one hip and waved.

“Hi, Jason! Thanks so much again for being in the wedding. It was lots of fun,” she said. Peter nodded, taking a look around the living room.

”Nice place you’ve got, Jason. This used to be George’s place, right?” He said.

Jason smiled weakly. “Thanks. Do you want a tour? I’ve got some really nice wooden cabinets in the bedroom I got from my dad.” Peter smiled enthusiastically, walking toward Jason and disappearing into one of the rooms deeper into the house.

Marie turned to look at Kim, who was bouncing the little bundle gently up and down in her arms as she shifted her weight side to side.

“So, uh, who’s this?” She asked. Kim smiled proudly, her eyes disappearing behind her rosy freckled cheeks and thick eye lashes.

“This is Eugene.”

Marie couldn’t stop herself from making what could only be described as a “what the fuck” face, if only for a brief moment. She found it hard to believe that Kim Walker -Kim Stine- would pick such a dated and frankly unappealing name. Kim must’ve seen her look, as she laughed a little and cuddled the bundle close to her chest.

“It was Pete’s idea. His father wanted him to name our kid after his uncle who died in the Old Country. We just spelled it the American way.”

Marie furrowed her eyebrows a little.

“Died in the what?”

Kim raised her eyebrows and stuck her neck out a little, cocking her head. “You know. The Old Country. The Fatherland. Across the Pond. Pete’s family are all immigrants.”

Marie still wasn’t following. “So… you just let Peter name your son after one of his dead relatives he didn’t even know? Why didn’t his parents just name him after them if they were so special?”

Kim sort of rolled her eyes. “They did. After his other uncle. And they weren’t just ‘some relatives’. They all died before they could flee Austria.”

Marie’s eyes went wide. “So they were-“

Kim’s nonchalant attitude returned as she bounced Eugene. “Yup. Pete’s grandparents saw the writing on the wall and got the hell out of dodge. Good thing they came here, or I never would’ve met him. But the rest of their family… not so lucky.”

Marie felt a sinking in her stomach. “Oh my god. I’m so sorry. I didn’t know.”

Kim shook her head. “It’s fine. Pete’s not too sentimental about it. But his parents definitely are. So. Eugene.”

She gestured with her shoulders, raising the baby so Marie could see him better. By her estimations, he looked about two months old.

“He’s very cute,” Marie offered.

“Thanks,” Kim said. Her eyes shifted over to Henry, who was watching the conversation but had remained silent. “Sorry, I forgot if you told me already, what’s this one called?” She said.

Marie smiled, happy to be talking about something she cared about again.

“This is Henry. Henry George.”

Kim oohed. “Very classic. Hello, Henry.”

Henry looked at Kim, and then back to his mother, seemingly for reassurance or context as to who this lady in his house was.

Kim’s face wrinkled. “Is he all right?” Marie nodded.

“Yeah. He’s fine. He just hasn’t been around a lot of people yet, and he seems to be… shy.”

“Does he talk yet?”

Marie shook her head. “Nope. I mean, he’s said things like ‘mama’ a few times but we’d be lucky if he says a word a week.”

Kim was about to respond when the two young men came back down the hall, their idle chatter about furniture and carpentry and electrics coming to an end.

“How was the tour?” Kim asked jokingly. Her husband flashed a sly smile. “Just fantastic. I might be back later with a hockey mask and a crowbar. He’s got some solid home design skills and even better furniture.”

Henry blinked slowly a few times as the adults made small talk, before he yawned and tried to squirm out of his mother’s grasp. Seeing he was starting to get fussy, Marie readjusted her hold on him.

“Oh, looks like it’s time for Henry to have a nap. Give me just one minute-“

“No, wait, Marie, I’ll take care of him. You stay with the Stines,” Jason said hastily, taking Henry out of her arms and walking across the room to the nursery, slowly closing the door behind him.

Marie turned around to face her two classmates. Peter cleared his throat awkwardly.

“Uh… listen, Marie…” he started out. “I can’t imagine how it must have felt to lose George. If I lost my wife, I don’t know what I’d do.”

Marie’s expression was blank, but her mind was beginning to churn with anger.

“Y’know, George was so new to the team, I didn’t really know him that well. But he seemed like a nice enough fella. He was always on time for practice, and he never complained about running drills. Didn’t talk much, but he was always polite and friendly when he did.”

Kim elbowed Peter who cleared his throat again. “Basically what I’m trying to say is that I’m sorry for your loss and I’m sorry about everything I did. I’m sorry no one believed you, and if I could have backed you up, I would have.”

Marie nodded. “I accept your apology, Peter. Thanks for admitting the truth. It takes guts.”

While yes, finally being acknowledged after all this time was cathartic, she knew that all he was really doing was saying what she wanted to hear. His fear and sense of self preservation was preventing him from doing anything really substantive about the issue, much like Jason, but she got the feeling Peter understood less about why what they did was wrong than Jason did.

Jason walked out of the nursery, quietly closing the door behind him.

“Henry is down. Everything good with you all?”

“Oh, yeah, sure, everything’s fine,” Kim said. “Just catching up.”

The four of them continued the conversation, but shifted away from George to other topics like the war, that year’s Harvest Festival, childcare and celebrity current events. Eventually, little Eugene made it clear through tired cries that he had had enough of whatever was happening and wanted to go home, so the Stines left after a series of long, awkward Midwestern goodbyes.

As soon as Marie shut the door behind them, she turned her back to the wood and sighed.

“I’m gonna have to put up with them for a while, aren’t I?”

Jason sat down on the sofa.

“They just want to do right by you. They’ve grown up. They’ve got a kid now.”

Marie put her fingers on the bridge of her nose and sat down next to him.

“Yeah, but I don’t have to forgive them, either. Not yet, at least.”

Jason reached his arm around and put a hand on her shoulder.

“I know. But they’re trying. And that’s really all you can ask. Plus,” Jason said, “Henry is going to need a friend. Maybe he’ll come out of his shell a little more if he has a friend to grow up with.”

Marie shrugged. “Maybe. Just as long as I don’t have to see Teddy’s stupid face.”

Jason nodded. “I think we can make that happen.”

Chapter Text

Weeks and months went by, and the Parkers and Stines (as well as the ever increasing frequency of Ricky) ended up under the same roof in a pattern that could be described as regular. Kim would come over while Peter and Jason were at work to talk baby stuff with Marie and reminisce on old times. How they crossed each other's paths in school, attended the same extracurricular events, and attended student council meetings as presidents of their respective clubs. Before everything went to shit. Kim would bring up how bummed she was that she did not get to finish college and experience life as a “real working woman” before settling down, and Marie would commiserate with her. Many women their age had begun to see more and more opportunities opening up for them during this era of great social change in the United States, now taught that they could take control of their own futures and pursue any career they wanted. This dream seemed to be particularly resonant with Kim, who expressed desires of being a writer for tv shows and films, longing for the feeling of pride she’d receive knowing people could hear and appreciate her command of comedy and the English language. Marie might’ve held similar aspirations, though after George died, there was nothing in life she wanted more than to be able to be George’s wife. To greet him at the door as he came home from work, to thoughtfully make each meal with his tastes in mind, to wrangle their multitude of children and furry pets she knew he would’ve wanted. Simply sliding reluctantly into this life with a man she didn’t love made it much less appealing. At least Kim was head over heels with her husband.

Eventually the Harvest Festival of 1972 rolled around, and that year Marie, Kim, Peter and Jason decided their two boys were old enough to go. Henry was three, and Eugene had turned two a few weeks prior. Wanting to make sure he was included, Jason extended the invite to Ricky if he was feeling well enough to come. Though he was making impressive progress in both his physical and mental health, in no small part due to the maintained relationship with Jason and Marie, his body was in less than stellar shape due to the effect of the alcohol abuse on it, and his mind was still not the same, either. He’d picked up a job, though, and was excited to blow a few dollars on some candy and games. To the kids, he was of course ‘Uncle Ricky’.

The festival was probably the best thing about Gallows Creek. The town went all out every year. The whole field was transformed with small booths selling fried food and sweet drinks and stalls for possibly rigged carnival games and activities. Most impressive of all was a giant Ferris Wheel brought in from some traveling county fair that gave stunning views of what little mountains that surrounded Gallows Creek. It was a huge moneymaker for the town as well, as out of towners from nearby towns drove in to get in on it all. More people existed in that little field on that day than existed in the whole town every other occasion.

The group spent the entire afternoon there, playing cornhole and darts and throwing baseballs at targets. They ate and drank and let the toddlers do fun, harmless little children’s games until the sun started to set and the group found a nice spot between two booths to sit and relax. Eugene, who was sitting in the grass next to a funnel cake stall, rubbed a tiny hand under his glasses and whimpered. Kim looked away from her conversation with Marie and Ricky, noticing her son’s distress. She quickly scooped him into her arms, bringing herself to her feet.

“Aw, I think Gene needs to go to bed,” Kim remarked. “Is it bedtime, Eugene?” The toddler nodded before burying his face into his mother’s shoulder.

Marie looked over at Henry, who was having trouble keeping himself upright.

“I think Henry needs to get some sleep, too,” she agreed. It’s been a big day.”

When they all rose to their feet, they could see the fair was in the process of shutting down. The rides were all rider-less, and many of the booths had closed their curtains or boarded up their entrances.

“Whole thing is wrapping up, anyway. I think we should all go,” Jason added.

Ricky nodded. “I’m gonna hang back a bit, I think the candy place by the whack-a-mole is giving away all the lollipops they didn’t sell. Peace!”

Jason chuckled as he watched Ricky turn against the crowd and wander further into the fairground for a moment before starting to walk with the rest of the group down through the rows of booths toward the exit.

Suddenly, a piercing metallic screech split the air, followed by a hollow, droning groan. The group stopped in their tracks, frozen in fear, almost in disbelief that such a noise was even possible. The noise started again, like grinding metal, and they turned to face whatever was making the sound.

As they turned around, the group looked in horror as the rusty white Ferris Wheel listed away from the fairground, metal support beams falling to the ground with an earth-shattering crash that sent dust high into the night air. Marie squeezed Henry tight, seizing his head close to her shoulder and away from the disaster as the Ferris Wheel began its impossibly slow journey to the ground. Trees in the surrounding forest snapped and bent as the weight of several tons of metal broke their trunks and splintered their branches.

People ran past the group screaming in terror. Teenagers gossiped about how close they’d been and how they saw it start to tilt after all the people got off. Children cried for their mothers who scooped them up and hastily led them to the field exit.

“Holy shit,” Peter cursed. “Thank God there wasn’t anybody on it.”

“Come on, we should go,” Kim said, trying to soothe Eugene, who had begun crying due to the sudden pandemonium.

“Wait,” Jason said, putting his hand on Marie’s shoulder. “Ricky went back that way. We should find him before we leave.”

Marie looked at the ground before looking back to her husband and nodding. So the group walked against the remaining stragglers toward the site of the disaster.

After walking through a few rows of booths, they saw Ricky running out of the dark, illuminated by the few remaining shop lights as he ran past.

“Guys! Someone’s hurt!” He huffed, out of breath from the running. “Chuck’s hurt!”

The first emotion the group felt was dread. “What happened? How did he-“ Jason began.

The next emotion was confusion.

“Chuck’s back?!”

Jason exhaled sharply, struggling to get his boot on by the door. “Come on, we said we’d be there by ten thirty. You need to get ready,” he urged, mouth slightly closed from concentration. Marie sat on the sofa, watching Henry playing with toys on the carpet in front of her.

“You go on ahead. Well stay back.”

Jason stood upright. “Come on, Marie. We said we’d both go with them. And… he told them he really wanted to see you. He’s been through a lot, Marie. You can leave after a quick hello. Just come say hi.”

Marie sat still for a few seconds before lifting herself off the couch in a huff before taking Henry’s hand and leading him toward the door to help him put his shoes on.

“Fine. But I’m not gonna forgive him just because he got a Ferris Wheel dropped on his sorry ass.”

Jason shook his head. “Never said you did.”

The Parkers walked down to the Stines to pick them up before they all took the short trip down to the hospital. They all got signed in by the same receptionist Jason remembered meeting the day Henry was born, and after a few minutes they were taken back to one of the rooms.

All of them entered at once, except Marie and Henry. Jason hadn’t noticed them stay behind and stand in the middle of the hallway as the door shut behind him. She could hear laughter and expressions of condolences and lighthearted small talk through the thin walls. She looked down at Henry, who was holding her hand, standing almost impossibly close to her side as he looked around the hall curiously. Once he felt his mother’s eyes on him, he looked up.

“Mama, why we not going in?” Henry asked. He was at his most talkative when it was just him, Marie and Jason.

Marie offered a lukewarm smile. “Because Mama needs a minute honey, okay? Mama needs to think about some things.” He seemed fine with this answer and went back to looking at the posters and paintings on the walls.

A few moments later, the nurse, now done with whatever business she had in the room, opened the door and was about to walk back down the hall when she saw Marie and Henry standing there. Embarrassed, she held the door open for them.

“Oh, my bad, I didn’t think anyone was still out here. It’s fine, go on in,” she said hastily, gesturing inside the room.

From inside, Marie could hear Jason call out “Marie?” She sighed, knowing there wasn’t much of an option now. She walked past the nurse, letting the door shut behind her as she looked at the floor. Upon slowly raising her head, she saw Jason, the Stines, and Ricky who had apparently been there before their group arrived, all clustered around both sides of the hospital bed at the far end of the tiny room. And there, resting under paper thin blankets, covered in bandages, his broken leg raised in the air by some contraption at the foot of his bed, was Chuck Brody.

When their eyes met, Chuck’s face became overcome with emotion, wild and frantic.

“Marie! Is that you? God, I’ve been waiting to talk to you for years!”

This was not the Chuck she remembered from high school. Back then, he was every bit as dickish and unbearable as Teddy was; arrogant, cocky, the kind of guy who thought being the quarterback made him the king of the fucking school and way too cool to be hanging around a geek like Marie. This was not that kid. The man before Marie now was anxious, neurotic, and desperate to talk to her.

Her eyebrows furrowed. “You have?”

Chuck’s chest heaved as he began to hyperventilate. “Yes! Oh my God… I’m so sorry, Marie. I’m so sorry.” Tears at the corners of his eyes reflected the fluorescent panel lights above them. Peter patted the shoulder that wasn’t wrapped up in a sling.

“It’s okay, man. Catch your breath.”

Marie took a step closer. “What… happened to you?” Her intonation made it clear she wasn’t asking about the Ferris Wheel.

Chuck swallowed shakily. “Your face… your screaming… that splash… I thought I’d get over it. I thought I’d forget. And then… and then the fucking war happened. And I saw his face everywhere. Bad memories don’t play well with combat fatigue”, he said shakily, trying to force a laugh.

“And I told myself when I got back home, I’d make things right with you. I’d hoped to see you at the Festival. Talk to you then. Thought you’d wanna come ride the Ferris Wheel so I waited there. Then… well, guess God wasn’t too happy I came back with all my limbs in working order.”

He swallowed.

“Man, I thought you’d never come visit. I thought I’d never get to say sorry for what I did to you. What we all did to you. I thought I was gonna be haunted forever. But you actually came.”

Marie bowed her head slightly in acknowledgement.

“I did.”

Chuck’s desperate attempt at a smile flickered into curiosity as his gaze lowered onto the little toddler who was wrapped around Marie’s leg, peering out with one dark brown eye.

“Is that…?” He said quietly. Kim chuckled.

“That’s Marie’s boy. Don’t worry, he’s always that shy, it’s not just your half-assed mummy costume.”

Chuck’s laugh sent him spiraling into a wheezing coughing fit as the ribs he definitely broke or cracked ached in his chest.

Marie looked down at Henry and then back up to Chuck across the room.

“Want to say hello?”

His one exposed eye went wide.

“Can I?”

She nodded softly, shuffling over to the side of the bed Jason stood on.

Chuck smiled and tried to wave his arm, though it could only wiggle limply in the sling.

“Hey there, little guy. God, you look just like your mama. What’s your name?”

Henry stayed silent, looking up to his mother for reassurance. Marie gestured to Chuck with her head.

“It’s all right, honey. Go on.”

Henry turned back to Chuck, his eyes focusing on the hospital bed instead of meeting his gaze.

“Henry.”

“That’s a nice name, Henry. You can call me Chuck. I used to know your daddy.”

Chuck looked up at Marie, that nervous insecurity consuming his expression yet again.

“Does he know…?”

Marie shook her head. “He’s not old enough to know. He knows Jason isn’t his real father, but that’s about it.”

Jason closed his eyes too long to be a normal blink. Of course, she was right. Henry knew Jason wasn’t his father- or at least, he knew not to call him ‘Dad’. Unfortunately, Jason’s name was quite difficult for a toddler to say, especially when Henry was just learning to speak, so for a while Jason went by a whole host of more baby-friendly nicknames. Now, Henry was comfortable saying Jason or occasionally just keeping it to Jay, but it was never Dad. Marie was sure of that.

Chuck nodded. “Yeah. Poor little fella doesn’t need to know.”

“We’re gonna tell him at some point. Just… not now.”

Henry looked up at his mother and pulled on her jeans a little.

“What, Mama?”

Marie shook her head.

“Nothing, honey. Don’t worry.”

The crew all made more small talk for a few more minutes, catching up on all the things that happened since high school, until Jason looked down at his watch.

“Ah, hey, guys, listen, I had a lot of fun, but work starts in a little bit for me and I’ve gotta get home to change. Henry and Eugene are probably due for naps, too, right?”

Kim and Marie nodded.

Chuck sighed. “Well, do what you guys need to do. I’m just… gonna be here. For a while, probably. I’m honestly lucky to be alive, so…”

As the group filed toward the door, Marie heard his shaky voice grab her attention again.

“And Marie- I really am sorry. You didn’t deserve any of that. It’s been haunting me ever since. Really. I hope you forgive me. I don’t know if I’ll be able to live with myself if you don’t.”

Marie nodded at him before disappearing out the door.

That night, Marie sighed loudly as she tossed herself back against her pillows, having already put Henry to sleep a few hours earlier.

“I don’t know, Jason.”

Jason looked over at her as he finished sliding a pajama shirt over his head.

“Don’t know about what?”

Marie stared up at the ceiling.

“Chuck.”

Jason opened the covers and slid beneath them, adjusting his pillows.

“What don’t you know?”

Marie closed her eyes.

“He wasn’t at all how I remembered him.”

Jason nodded, gazing lazily up at the ceiling.

“Looks like the war really fucked with his head. Wouldn’t be the first person to come home different.”

Marie grabbed a pillow and let it drop onto her face.

“Yeah, but it makes it so much harder to be mad at him.”

Jason turned to look at her, propping himself up on his elbow. “What do you mean?”

She put the pillow down on her chest.

“When I went in there I thought he’d say something stupid like he always did and then I’d take Henry and leave without a word. But… he was sorry. Like, actually sorry. Like he understood what he did wrong.”

Jason looked down at the mattress in contemplation. “Well, you’re right. It was genuine remorse.”

Marie whimpered a little, rolling on her side to face Jason.

“So what do I do?”

Jason tucked his long brown hair out of his face.

“What do you think George would want you to do?”

Crystal tears welled up in Marie’s eyes.

“Forgive him.”

Jason resisted the attractive urge to lose himself to emotion as well.

“Do you think that’s something you can do?” He asked.

Marie swallowed, trying to keep her composure. “I don’t know,” she admitted. She moved toward him, wrapping one arm around his shoulder in a half-hug. Jason turned onto his back so Marie’s ink black hair spilled over his shoulder and chest. “But I can try,” she said, finishing her thought.

Jason floated his arm across her shoulders, his hand coming to rest just behind her neck. His other arm reached across him, leading his torso in a slight roll to get more length, before hooking on her lower back and pulling her so she was a bit more parallel to him. His hand being that low on her back was absolute blasphemy, and he knew it. But Marie just cried.
“That’s really all you can do,” he affirmed.

Chapter Text

Marie woke with a deep gasp as she threw herself upright. Her eyes were damp with tears, her throat was dry and sore and cold sweat beaded down her forehead. She heaved there in the darkness, scratching her cheek to get a stray frizzy hair or two out of the corner of her mouth. It took her a while for her vision to settle itself and remind her she was in her bedroom, where she’d gone to sleep the night before, like she did every night.

A stirring to her right made her whip her head quickly to the side. Jason had been stirred awake by her sudden movement next to him. In a mumbly, sleepy voice, he asked “what is it?”

Marie sighed and shook her head, leaning back down so her head sank back down into her pillow.

“I just had the nightmare again, is all,” she said hoarsely. She could hear Jason shift a little bit under the covers.

“Sorry about that. Try to get back to sleep,” he said.

Marie tried. She did. But nature has many cruel jokes, and trying not to think about something only makes you think of it more. After a while of trying to wipe her mind- to think about anything else- she sat up again and reached below her bedside table to the little shelf beneath the drawer, gripping her fingers around the old shoebox. She brought it up to her again laying down with her arms folded across it on her chest.

It didn’t do her much good in the darkness, but the box itself had become almost as much of a comfort object as the pictures it contained.

“They say it’s the worst way to die.”

Jason opened an eye.

“Mmm?” He answered, barely awake enough to process what she said.

Marie elaborated. “Drowning. They say it’s the worst way to die. Your lungs burn from the lack of oxygen and you panic for air before you finally eventually lose consciousness. And George had to go through it as the last thing he ever experienced.”

Jason sighed. “Hey. George was a fantastic swimmer. You know that. He wouldn’t have let himself drown. That river is full of rocks. He probably hit his head when he landed and got knocked out instantly, and he passed away peacefully in his sleep.”

A tear disappeared off Marie’s cheek and onto her pillow.

“Then the last thing he felt was terror.”

Jason didn’t really have a rebuttal for that. It was unfortunately true. He swallowed.

“Well, that may be true. But you screamed when you saw him fall, didn’t you?”

Marie’s face creased as she tried to swallow back tears.

“What does that have to do with anything?”

Jason forced a small smile Marie couldn’t see.

“I guess my point is… your voice screaming for him was probably the last thing he heard before he got knocked out. I mean if I could hear you through all those trees and brush all that way away, he could definitely hear you. So… in a sort of fucked-up, twisted way, he died knowing he was loved.”

Marie wiped her nose on the back of her hand.

“We have to tell Henry. He deserves to know.”

Jason looked over at her dark shape.

“He’s only four, Marie.”

“And if we wait any longer, he’s going to ask why we never told him. He needs to know young so he can grow up with it and make peace with it. We’re not gonna tell him everything. Just enough to let him understand where his father is. We could even do it in the graveyard.”

“He’s been to the graveyard before with us.”

“The last time he went to the graveyard, he couldn’t even walk. It’s been a while. And I think he’s ready. He needs to know where his father is.”

“All right,” Jason mumbled. “If you think that’s what you need to do. I’m off work tomorrow. We can go then. But please, go back to sleep now.”

Henry ran around in the emerald green grass, his arms stretched out wide to either side. He weaved through stone pillars and jumped over concrete plaques occasionally decorated with flowers or small American flags. The sky above was a clear blue summer’s day, not a storm cloud in sight.

“Henry! Come back!” Marie called out, her long, floral print white and blue dress rippling between her legs as her unruly hair attempted to escape the confines of the headband she was wearing. She’d gotten the dress as a gift for her 21st birthday a year or so back, and had since considered it the prettiest thing she owned. The dresses and skirts girls wore when she was a teenager - the ones of the ‘mini’ variety that were popular in the late 60’s - interested her very little, but the more loose and comfortable aesthetic that defined the new decade appealed more to her tastes.

“Over here, buddy!” Jason said, waving an arm as they made a turn down a small gravel path and stepped into the grass.

Henry turned and ran back to the pair of adults who had sat down on either side of a rectangular stone jutting out of the earth.

“Honey, could you sit down please?” Marie asked in her sweet soft motherly tone. Henry did as his mother asked, sitting between the two adults and directly in front of the stone. His eyes looked over the inscription, but besides being able to identify the letters used, the words were meaningless to him.

“Do you know where we are?” She followed. Henry shook his head.

“This is called a graveyard. That’s a big word. But it is the sort of place where people like your papa go.”

Henry’s face wrinkled in confusion a bit as he looked around at all the graves.

“Henry, want to know what happened to your papa and why he can’t be at home with Mama?” Jason asked, trying to get Henry’s attention. It was hard getting a four year old to focus much on anything, let alone something as serious as this.

Henry looked at Jason, so he started his story. “Well, you know I was best friends with your papa, right? We were best friends. We would play together all the time.”

Henry nodded in understanding, his black hair fluttering in the breeze.

“One night, your papa and I played a game with some of our other friends. Mama was there playing, too. But something bad happened to your papa. He got a big boo-boo.”

Henry’s dark eyes flashed with shock and a little frown pulled at his features.

Jason swallowed. “The boo-boo was so bad that Papa went to sleep. And the next morning, he didn’t wake up. He never did. He…died. And they put his body right underneath where you’re sitting.”

Henry scooted back a little in surprise, almost expecting the earth to give way to some sort of other world beneath the dirt.

“It’s okay, Henry, he’s not going to be moving or anything,” Jason chuckled, reaching his hand out to stabilize the little boy. “It’s just his body. It can’t move. The part of him that made him your papa is somewhere else.”

Marie raised her shoulders and smiled gently, her soft laughter hiding the tears in her eyes.

“But you know what, Henry?” Jason asked.

Henry looked up at him. “What?”

“When your papa died, before he went away forever, he told me something.”

Henry’s eyes got wide. “He did?”

Jason nodded. “Yup. He told me ‘my boy is gonna be so special. You take good care of him for me.’”

Henry giggled. “No he didn’t. He can’t talk.”

“Yes he did!” Jason reached forward and grabbed Henry, pulling him back toward him as he laid down in the grass. Henry rolled off Jason’s chest and looked up to the expanse of blue above him. Marie sighed and let her back sink into the grass beside them.

“You know, Henry,” she said, causing Henry to turn his head over to her. “Your father’s eyes were the color of the sky. So it’s like he is always watching over you. Your papa would have loved you so much, honey. And he’ll always be with you. If you need him, or you’re ever lost, just look up. He’ll be there.”

Marie made her way down the sidewalk, shopping bags stuffed in the pockets of her bell bottom jeans for the return trip. It was odd to her, that something that seemed as impossible as walking alone around town four years ago seemed so simple now. It wasn’t without pain. She still saw him on every street corner, on every lawn, in every tree. But it was easier now.

She had a new life now. A different, reluctant sort of existence, but she’d found out a long time ago that fighting it would do nothing but exhaust her. She’d made her peace with the fact things would never be how they were when she was a teenager. But sometimes, things from the past don’t stay there.

“Marie!”

The voice fished into the recesses of her memory, pulling out a familiar form. She turned around, an expression of disdain already on her face.

“Dad?” It wasn’t so much a question as it was disbelief.

The man stood on the sidewalk opposite to Marie, long legs precariously holding the rest of him up. A weak smile played under his thick, black mustache.

“Hi, sweetie. Been a while. You’re all grown up,” he said softly, a hopeful lilt at the end of his thought, accompanied by a paper thin laugh.

Marie didn’t return his warmth.

“The fuck do you want? Why do you think I’d ever talk to you again after what you did to me?”

Martin’s eyes fell to the sidewalk, obscured by his long, black hair, now peppered with grey strands. Moreso due to stress than age, as he was still relatively young, around 40.

“I’m sorry, sweetie. It… we were too harsh with you. We didn’t know what we were doing, really. I’d been thinking about you every day since. Hoping you were okay.”

Marie sneered. “Not hard enough to come find me and take me back, apparently. And don’t fucking call me sweetie anymore. I’m not five.”

Martin shuffled his weight onto his other leg, scratching his arm. “We thought it was the right thing to do at the time. But we were inexperienced. Parenting… doesn’t come with a manual.”

That answer was so stupid Marie almost just turned back around and walked off. “Oh yeah, some great judges you two are. Someone died and you couldn’t give a fuck. But you couldn’t ever stop getting on my case about my social life, could you?! That’s what really mattered,” Marie growled sarcastically. “Not the truth.”

Martin’s dark brows creased as he started to take a bit of offense to Marie’s comments.

“You didn’t understand at the time, you were just a child. In this sort of town, your reputation is everything. People would talk. People would question why I believed a child over the Sherriff and the Gallowses. If I spoke out, no one would’ve backed me up. I would’ve been an outcast. I might’ve even gotten fired. Stuff like that would mean a worse quality of life for you girls. I tried explaining it to you, but you didn’t understand then.”

“Oh yeah? So this was all to keep your job? All for the greater good? To take care of us? Tell me, how the fuck was disowning me meant to do that?! Was calling me a whore and throwing me out in the snow a reasonable thing to do, Dad?! All this trouble hiding the truth to protect me and you disown me without a second thought, how did you excuse your way out of that one?!”

The image of Marie, his firstborn baby, leaving the house, tear-stained and shivering flashed in Martin’s mind and the annoyance was once again replaced with remorse. He sighed a long, heavy sigh.

“I’m so sorry, Marie. I am. I can’t believe what we put you through. You remind me so much of myself when I was your age. I was just scared and I didn’t know what to do.”

Marie was unimpressed. “So the fact I was an ‘oops’ baby too made you kick me out in the dead of winter because you couldn’t stand I turned out like you, because you hate yourself that much? Wow. That makes it so much better.”

There was silence for a bit, just the two standing facing each other in the summer heat, before Martin spoke again.

“I left your mother.”

Marie’s face warped. “What? Why?”

He shook his head. “Because I realized what we did to you was wrong. Martha didn’t see it that way. I told her if the Parkers hadn’t picked you up, you could’ve frozen to death or gotten picked off the street in some random city somewhere. We abandoned you. She refused to care. And, you know, sure, I was mad at you then for being stupid, but your mother… you know how she is. Once we kicked you out, she didn’t even want to hear your name. You were dead to her. And I… I couldn’t live with someone who didn’t feel at least some remorse. So we got a divorce.”

Marie shifted her weight to her hip.

“Oh, wonderful. So you ruined Peggy’s life, too. You couldn’t have waited until she was out of the house? You were halfway there already. ”

Martin winced. He hated being reminded of his littlest girl watching over years as he lost himself to the guilt. He’d grown so distant, so depressed, so unhappy, Peggy didn’t recognize her father.

“I know. It wasn’t fair to her. But I couldn’t stay. I had to make it right. And your mother probably would’ve left me anyway, how I am now. I needed to come find you.”

Marie shook her head.

“I don’t know why you bothered, Dad. I really don’t.”

He took another deep breath. “I’m so sorry about your …friend. He was such a nice boy. He was always so polite and friendly. He treated you so well. I could see how deeply he cared for you. He would’ve been a wonderful father.”

“Bit late to give your approval now, don’t you think? You know, because he’s been dead for half a decade. Would’ve been nice if you told him while he was alive. He thought you two couldn’t stand him. He died thinking you’d never let me marry him.”

Another true point from Marie. Every time George came over to the Campbell house, Martha would sneer at him from the kitchen, making occasional quips about his outfit or how dirty his clothes were from being outdoors so much or how much he ate or the way he talked or if he was having trouble with the homework they were doing at the kitchen table. She wouldn’t allow them to study in Marie’s room. Not even with the door open. When Martin came home in the evenings and had dinner with them all, Marie’s parents would listen in mild annoyance at Marie and George’s conversations or field him mundane questions, completely uncaring as to the answers he gave. Martin’s paternal glare followed George from room to room, a stereotypical layer of distrust acting as a barrier between their friendship.

“You’re my daughter, Marie. We were apprehensive of letting any boy near you. And, to be perfectly honest, we thought you could do better than someone from his… background. But… I see now how much you meant to each other. And I’m so sorry I judged him so quickly and didn’t give him a chance.”

Marie’s face blushed as white-hot tears blurred her vision. “Is that supposed to make me feel better or something?! I’d just gotten used to existing without him after five years. I don’t need you randomly showing up and reminding me what I lost.”

Martin brushed some hair out of his face nervously. Whatever he came here to ask her, he knew based on the trajectory of this conversation she wasn’t going to like it.

“How’s your boy- he’s a boy, right? Is he okay? What’s his name?”

Marie jerked her neck back, incredulous to the audacity.

“What’s it to you?” The last conversation with her parents about her son Marie remembered having was the one where they found out he existed and subsequently decided he didn’t deserve to live under their roof for the unforgivable crime of said existence. Genuine inquiry into his wellbeing was the last thing she expected to hear from her father.

Martin walked toward Marie. As his face became closer to hers, and she could appreciate more detail, she didn’t like how similar to Henry he looked. If she held up a Polaroid of little Henry and an old black and white portrait of her father as a toddler, the resemblance would be near identical.

“Because he’s my grandson, Marie. You and Peggy… I wanted so badly for you girls to grow up with your grandparents. It’s my fault you couldn’t. I don’t want the same to happen to my grandchildren.”

Marie said nothing. As bitter and hurt and confused as she was, she thought of Henry. Could he benefit from seeing her father?

Martin cleared his throat. “Peggy’s with your mother. I can see her sometimes, but… you know. So… I’ve lost both of my girls. So I just- I just wanted to ask. Would you let me see him sometime? Just for a little while.”

Marie ground her teeth, her expression ice cold. Finally, she spoke.

“Once. Then you fuck off and leave my family alone.”

Martin exhaled, a surprised but happy smile on his tired face.

“That- you have no idea how much that means to me, Marie. Thank you.”

Marie scowled. “Oh, stop. It’s not because your pity party worked on me. It’s for Henry’s benefit. Things will be easier to explain.”

Martin’s eyes hid behind his lower lids as his smile raised his cheeks.

“So his name is Henry. That’s a beautiful name, Marie. You picked well. When would be best to meet him?”

Marie pinched her nose bridge for a moment before speaking. “Uh, Saturday. You can meet him in the park when we go for our walk around noon. Work for you?” She asked impatiently.

He nodded. “I’ll be there. I will. I promise.”

Marie nodded. “You better. Wouldn’t want to disappoint us both. Bye, Dad.” With that, she turned and continued walking in the direction she was originally going, leaving her father to stand and watch as she moved further down the street.

“Bye, sweetie.”

Chapter Text

“Are you absolutely sure you’re okay with this?” Jason asked.

Marie huffed, the early autumn wind blowing her hair around her face.

“It’s good for Henry. We can always leave.”

Jason tried to wipe some hair out of his face. One thing about this era of long hair being in fashion- it sure got in his face a lot.

“Yeah, but… I don’t know how you even managed to say more than a few words to him. I mean… after everything he did? I saw how you looked after he threw you out like you were nothing. You were so cold. Who knows what that could’ve done to Henry if you were out there any longer.”

Marie looked over at Jason, eyes briefly flicking to Henry calmly walking by his side.

“Keep this up and you’re gonna make me change my mind.”

He shook his head. “I’m just trying to look out for you. Just because you forgave me doesn’t mean you have to forgive everyone who hurt you back then. You can be mad.”

“I am mad,” Marie grumbled. “But he’s my dad. It’s hard to let 18 years go, even if it ended like that. This isn’t forgiveness, though. This is a trial run. If he fucks this up, I’m never speaking to him again.”

As the two stepped onto the winding path through the park, they saw a figure shaded by a tree turn towards them and start walking to the light.

“Marie- you came. To be honest I thought you weren’t going to,” Martin said. Marie blinked, unfazed. Getting no response out of her, he turned to Jason.

“You- you must be Marie’s…”

Jason spoke through a tense jaw, stepping a bit out in front of Marie.

“I’m her husband. I was the one who found her crying and half frozen in the middle of the night five years ago. It’s Jason, by the way.”

Marie stuck her hand out in an attempt to wordlessly tell Jason to back down. But his defensiveness oddly struck her. He spoke as if what happened was a personal slight against him, like he was offended on Marie’s behalf. He was an empathetic man generally, but she had never seen him that tense before.

Martin cleared his throat awkwardly.

“Uh, yeah, thank you for uh, opening your home to her. That was very selfless of you and your family.”

Jason stepped back to Marie, leaving little Henry to scramble back behind Jason’s leg, drawing Martin’s attention downward.

“Is this Henry? My goodness, you’re so big!” Martin exclaimed. He bent his long legs and sank down on one knee, resting his palms on his dark blue jeans. “I’m your grandpa. I’m your mama’s dad. It’s all right, son.”

Henry leaned out from Jason’s leg, a suspicious grimace on his face. Martin extended a slender hand out to Henry, pulling his face into a pitiful, toothless smile.

Jason put his arm out and put his hand on Henry’s head, huddling him close.

“He’s shy,” Jason said matter-of-factly.

Martin’s face fell a little bit, expecting some sort of Hollywood movie moment with Henry he wasn’t going to get.

Marie turned to Henry, leaning over to catch his eye as he peered out from Jason’s side.

“Would you like to say hi, Henry?” She asked, gesturing to her father, whose expression had turned even more pitiful.

Henry slowly stepped forward until he was within grabbing distance of Martin. Martin used this opportunity to wrap his hand around the boy’s arm and gently pull him in closer, wrapping him in a hug.

“Oh, you’re so sweet,” Martin said, patting Henry on the back before letting him go.

Martin’s cheeks creased his eyelids, emphasizing his already present crow’s feet. “It’s so nice to meet you, Henry.” His eyes searched Henry’s face in vain for any sort of reciprocation. “I want to know all about you. What kinds of things do you like?”

Henry blinked, thinking for a moment. Martin started to worry he wasn’t going to answer. Marie snuck her pinkie finger through Jason’s, giving it a squeeze. He squeezed back, turning his hand and fully lacing all of their fingers together. Her eyes remained locked onto Henry.

At last, little Henry spoke.

“I like cars.”

The conversation continued from there, as the four of them walked around the park. Both Marie and Jason kept a close eye on Henry and Martin. After a while, Martin looked at his watch, announcing to the group that he would love to stay longer, but he had to leave.

As he knelt over and gave Henry one last hug, he looked up at Marie. “I know you said just this once, but… could I see him again?”

Marie looked down at Henry, then up to Jason, who was already looking at her. He cleared his throat and looked back to Henry.

“It’s your choice,” Jason said.

Marie nodded slightly, a silent affirmation to her father’s question.

“We can make plans if you want.”

Martin got up off the ground as quickly as a man in his early 40’s with long legs could. He made a gesture like he was about to hug Marie, but decided against it at the last second. Putting his arms slowly at ease beside him, he let out a soft breath from his nose and smiled with his eyes.

“How about next Sunday?”

Marie nodded. “Sure. Next Sunday.”

Marie looked over at Jason as they walked down the sidewalk, back to their house. His dark eyes were trained forward, an uncharacteristic frown on his face. “Are you okay? You seemed so… tense back there,” she asked.

Jason sighed. “I just… I couldn’t stand to see him, pretending like he didn’t have anything to do with this. I don’t know, I just… thinking about what he did to you. It just made me so angry. I don’t know why.”

Marie’s eyes rested over Henry as he trotted down the sidewalk in front of her before stopping a few yards ahead, turning around, and running back to her side.

“Where are you going, silly boy?” she asked, a playful smile on her face as Henry jumped back in front of her. She chuckled, watching him jump and run around while they caught up to him, before looking back at Jason.

”Well, thanks for caring. Really. I can handle myself around him just fine, but… it’s nice to know someone cares about what happened to me.”

Jason creased his forehead, watching her dark hair bounce in front of her cheek as she walked.

“Of course I care about you. We’re… well, we’re friends, right?”

Marie kept her face turned ahead, but her gaze flitted over to Jason.

“Yeah. We’re friends.”

Weeks went by, and visits with Marie’s father became regular. Eventually, Henry became comfortable enough with Martin that he started to open up, get more chatty, and even agreed to spend the night at his grandfather’s house once or twice. Henry also enjoyed when Marie and Jason would take him to the park or the Stines’ house to play with Eugene. Eugene was a small bit younger, but they were close enough in age where they could communicate with each other, so they enjoyed the other’s company.

On one of Henry and Eugene’s play dates, both sets of parents stood in the lush grass of the Stines’s picturesquely fenced-in front yard. The two children ran around in the dying grass and fallen leaves, engaging in some game whose rules went unspoken but seemingly understood.

“They’re so cute together, it’s such a relief they have someone to play with. It really helps them learn, I think,” Kim remarked.

Marie acknowledged her assumption with a sigh. “Yeah. And it wears them out so we don’t have to entertain them. I love Henry, but I have chores at home that can’t wait until he shows me every single toy he owns for the sixth time.”

Peter chuckled. “Too right. It’s easier when they’re together than when they’re apart. Almost makes you want another one so you can have this 24/7. Huh? What about it, babe? Ready to give me one more?” Peter joked as he grabbed his wife and yanked her to him, the pair laughing before nuzzling their noses and holding a long, drawn out kiss.

Kim broke away from her husband, readjusting his wire-framed glasses from how they’d been knocked crooked by the sudden kiss. “I miss college a lot,” she said, “but I’m so glad for that little boy. I don’t know if I would’ve had the courage to marry you so soon if it weren’t for him. But it’s the best decision I ever made in my life.”

Jason smirked a bit at their antics, absentmindedly panning his gaze over to Marie. To his surprise, she’d done the exact same thing, and the two had broken their flash of eye contact as quickly as they started it, looking at the ground, the sky, the trees, the neighbors houses, anything to make the awkwardness and the burning of their cheeks go away.

Eventually the falling leaves and orange decorations scattered about town gave way to barren branches and glittering white frost. Jason always dreaded the walk home. Growing up in Gallows Creek, he was used to the bite of a Midwestern Winter, but he didn’t like being outside more than he had to. It was always a great relief to come home in the evening, say hello to little Henry, and sit down with the two of them for a nice, warm meal. Marie had always been a decent cook, but as the weeks went by Japan frequently found himself thinking that she’d somehow outdone herself. When he would go to thank her and compliment her cooking, she’d point her gaze to the wall or floor and say thank you while chuckling or downplaying her abilities. Then, the three would spend some time together playing with Henry and watching television (which they had procured some years before) before he was tucked into bed and the two adults went their separate ways, reading books or newspapers or watching more tv until they rejoined for sleep.

“All right, honey. All warm and tucked in?” Marie asked, patting Henry’s blanket as he pulled his covers up to his chin. He nodded, frizzing up his dark curls against the white pillow.

“Yes, Mama.”

She smiled warmly before bending over and planting a kiss on his forehead.

“If you get cold, Mama put another blanket here for you.” Marie put her hand on a folded wool blanket on top of Henry’s toy chest backed up against the wall she was standing in front of.

“I love you, honey. Sweet dreams,” Marie said as she walked out of Henry’s room. She waited for his reply in reciprocation before softly shutting the door.

When she turned away from Henry’s room and down the hall toward her room, she saw Jason standing in the hall, leaning against the refrigerator. Her heart fluttered, not expecting to see anyone after tucking her son in.

“Marie,” he said softly. The sole overhead light from the kitchen danced in his glossy dark hair. “Can we talk?”

Marie walked over to him, each step slow and deliberate.

“Mhmmm,” she hummed affirmatively as she stopped in front of him. A quizzical frown creased her face. “What did you want to talk about?”

Jason stood upright, leaving contact with the side of the refrigerator. He blinked, looking down into Marie’s coffee-brown eyes.

“We’ve spent a lot of time together, Marie. Married for almost five years. And it’s been nice. But… I can’t help but feel like something has changed since we made our arrangement. Something feels different. You’ve been acting different.”

Marie’s eyes were focused on Jason’s mouth, moving slowly as he spoke just above a murmur.

“Have I?” She asked, her voice digging into a breathy, smoky register she didn’t know if she was doing on purpose. She felt like the world was moving in slow motion, warping around her as she took another step forward.

Jason nodded softly. “Mhm. You’re always looking away when I look your way. Like you want to ask a question you’re scared of the answer to. But we’re here talking now. I don’t want you to feel like you have to hide anything from me. So whatever you want to say, you can say it.”

Marie shifted her feet, turning her gaze downward before looking back up.

“The truth is, you’re right. Something is different. When I look at you, I feel strange. Odd. Distracted. Awkward. It just came out of nowhere. I don’t really… know how to describe it.”

But Jason did. “I know exactly what you mean, Marie,” he said.

She blinked her long, dark eyelashes, her eyebrows creasing together slightly.

“You do?” She asked.

“Yeah,” Jason affirmed. “I know… because I’ve been feeling it for years now. He swallowed, close enough to count the palest freckles on the bridge of her nose. “And I think this isn’t the first time you’ve felt like this, either.”

They were now so close together, she could feel his warm breath on her cheeks. The tip of her pointed nose was mere centimeters from his chin.

Marie allowed herself to exhale, her smoky voice just above a whisper. “What is this?” She asked, looking up through her dark eyelashes.

Jason subtly tilted his head to one side. “I think you already know.”

Marie’s heart thundered in her ears as she tilted her face slightly upward and leaned the opposite direction.

“Jason,” she whispered, the corner of her mouth brushing against the side of his neck, just under his jaw and sending shockwaves through both of their bodies.

They couldn’t tell who made the first move, and it didn’t really matter. It was all warmth and haze and mint toothpaste. Marie angled her face even more to the side, raising a hand to cradle Jason’s cheek. Her body pressed against his as one of his arms hooked her lower back and drew her into himself. Every time he leaned forward, pressing deeper into her mouth, she raised the same back at him, meeting his desire with equal force.

Withdrawing from the deep kiss, Marie took a few open-mouthed breaths, eyes lazily resting on Jason’s now shiny lips. Her chest heaved as she panted before her hands pulled him down to her again.

She leaned harder against him and pressed her knee into his leg, her weight making him stumble a few steps backward. He wrapped an arm around her back and grasped at the wall to stabilize himself, though her continued steps forward and her hand pressing on his shoulder told him it wasn’t just an accident in the heat of passion.

His hands slid over her back to her sides, dragging themselves over her curves while his feet backed the pair up the few remaining feet down the hall. Jason felt the cold wood of the bedroom door pressing against his back, and his heart jumped, but he didn’t dare tear himself from her kiss. Not after how long he’s waited for this.

Marie raised her hands and raked through his shoulder-length hair, wrapping them around the back of his neck while she rose just the smallest bit higher on the balls of her feet, passionate and hungry for a feeling she hadn’t allowed herself to feel in years.

One of her hands dropped down his neck, taking a brief detour to carve out the contours of his collarbone, chest and ribs before lifting off his side and clumsily fumbling around for the door handle. After a few swipes, her lovedrunk fingers curled around the bronze handle and the pair spilled inside the room. They took a second to regain their balance before Marie reached back and pushed the door shut behind her, locking it into place with a click.

Chapter Text

Jason awoke to his alarm clock trilling loudly on his bedside table. Reaching a lumbering arm over to stop it, his newly awoken mind began to swim with memories of the night before. He remembered the deep, blooming warmth under the winter blankets that rivaled the longest summer days. He remembered her, and the way the moonlight caught her pearly skin and raven black hair as she whispered wordless prayers and arias too hazy in his memory to recall. He turned over in bed, expecting to see her sleeping face haloed by dark hair on the pillow next to him, but to his disappointment there was nothing but empty whiteness.

Wordlessly, he kicked his legs over the side of the bed and stretched his back which somehow always seemed to have an ache in it, probably from being so tall. He changed into his work clothes and opened the door to the primary bathroom, brushing through his long hair and cleaning his teeth.

When he was done, he walked out into the hallway. He hoped that, with any luck, he’d find Marie in the kitchen cleaning or preparing meals for the day like she normally does in the morning, or reading the newspaper at the table, or watching television on the couch with Henry. Instead, when Jason walked past the kitchen and into the living room, he saw no one except little Henry playing with two of his toys at the table.

Jason smiled, though his heart had sunken, and walked over to Henry.

“Hey little man,” he said jovially. “Where’s your mama gone?”

Henry looked up at Jason and shrugged his shoulders. Jason frowned, looking up towards the door. When he saw that the hook usually holding Marie’s winter coat was empty, he realized with a pit in his stomach where she was.

He turned behind him, locking his eyes on the clock mounted on the wall in the kitchen. It was getting close to when he would need to leave to be at work. But Marie wasn’t there to watch Henry.

“Hey, kiddo,” Jason said, stifling a yawn. “Why don’t you grab more of your toys? I'm gonna take you to Eugene’s house for a play date, okay? Doesn’t that sound fun?”

Henry nodded, jumping off the chair and toddling off to his room to grab more of his prized possessions. Jason scribbled down a quick note before he threw his winter coat on and began to tie up his boots.

When they’d reached the Stines’s front door, Jason knocked a few times with the arm not holding Henry’s things.

Eventually, the door opened. Kim stood in an orange dressing gown, fluffy slippers on her feet and rollers in her hair.

“Oh- hi, Jason. What’s going on? Where’s Marie?”

Jason bent down to Henry, patting him on the shoulder. “Okay, Henry, go play!” Henry needed no further instruction and ran past Kim’s legs into the house.

When he straightened up again, Jason rubbed the back of his neck nervously.

“So, basically, Marie and I… well, we’ve sorta fallen for each other. It was a long time coming, I think. But things got serious last night.”

Kim’s hazel eyes opened wide in shock.

“You two… you like each other?!”

Jason chuckled nervously, scuffling his toe on the cold ground.

“I think it’s a bit stronger than just that,” he said. “I love her.”

Kim smiled her signature toothy grin. But before she could say anything, Jason spoke first.

“But she, well, she’s clearly having a hard time about something. She wasn’t home when I woke up and her coat was gone. I think she went to the graveyard. Who knows what she’s feeling right now. I really need to talk to her. But if I spent the day there with her I’d miss work. And since she’s not home to take care of Henry… you’re on babysitting duty. Hope you don’t mind.”

Kim sighed, sinking her weight onto one leg and rolling her eyes. “I don’t really have a choice, do I?”

Jason shook his head and smiled weakly.

“Not really… sorry, Kim.”

Her sly, soft smile returned to her freckled face.

“It’s all right, Jason. Good luck. You’ll need it.”

Jason returned her friendly smile.

“You’re the best, Kim. Tell Pete I say hi when he gets home, all right? I left a note for Marie saying where Henry is. She should probably be around to pick him up in an hour or so… I hope. Take care.”

Kim closed her hand around the doorknob. “Take care, Jason. Hope it all works out for you.”

When Jason got home from work that evening, he hung his coat on the coat rack by the door. His chest tightened and a hot flash of panic ran through his brain as he looked over and saw Marie’s blue coat now hooked back in its usual resting spot.

Closing the door behind him, he shuffled off his shoes and walked into the living room. As he was about to call out, the sound of a flushing toilet followed by running sink water cut through the silence of the house.

Moments later, the door opened. Marie stepped out into the hall, and sensing Jason’s presence, she glanced his way. Her eyes flashed wider for an instant before she whipped around and stalked down the hall, throwing the bedroom door shut behind her. Jason sighed, his shoulders slumping. It seemed like Marie was in no mood to talk. But it had to be done.

Before continuing all the way down the hall, Jason stopped by Henry’s room. He gently pushed the door open, leaning into the room as the door squeaked. Henry was sitting on his bed, flipping through a stack of picture books. He seemed perfectly content being by himself. When Henry heard the door open, he looked up and met Jason’s eyes. Even though Henry might as well have been a tiny clone of his mother and resembled his father very little, his little face shot a pang of guilt into Jason’s chest that seeped into the rest of his body.

“Hey, kid. Are you okay? Hungry?” Jason asked. Henry shook his head.

“Mama made dinner.”

Jason flashed a faint smile. “Oh, good. Okay. Well, I’m gonna go talk to your mama, you come get us if you need us.”

With that, he closed the door slightly before walking to the bedroom door at the end of the hallway. He gently rapped his knuckles on the painted wood.

“Marie? Is it ok if I come in?”

Jason leaned against the door, straining to hear a response. But none came. After a few more moments of waiting, he pushed the handle down slowly and nudged the door open.

Marie was sitting at the foot of the bed, her head in her hands and elbows resting on her thighs.

“Marie?” Jason asked softly. “Do you want to talk about last night? I think… I think we should.”

He could hear her sniff before she straightened her posture, slowly dropping her hands as she turned toward him. Her face was irritated and her eyes were large and glassy.

“I’m not loyal.” Her lips curled back and her eyebrows knitted together, her face looking like she’d just uttered the most horrific, disgusting curse.

A look of sad concern crossed Jason’s face as he closed the distance between them.

“What? No, Marie. That’s just not true,” he said. “You’re the most loyal person I’ve ever met. You stayed devoted to George for years after he passed. That’s not what I would call disloyal.”

Marie wiped her tears on her sleeve, her expression growing more exasperated.

“I’m a cheater, Jason! I’m dirty! I fucked another man! Don’t you get it?!” She whined through blurred vision.

Jason’s heart sank. The emotion in her eyes and the strain in her voice made it clear she truly believed what she was saying. He sighed, taking a seat on the bed next to her.

“Marie, I know this really, really sucks to hear. And I know part of you already knows this. But I need to make something clear to you. George passed away five years ago. Any moral obligation you had to stay loyal to him ended then. What we did… it’s not cheating, because there’s no one to cheat on. I know how much you still love him. But he’s not your boyfriend anymore, and he hasn’t been for a long time. I know you want to keep him close to you, but this is just the reality of things. I’m sorry.”

Marie burst into wet tears, bowing her head into her hands and racking her shoulders with heavy sobs. Jason wrapped his arms around her and pulled her into a side hug, patting her soft black hair.

“I am so sorry, Marie. I really am. I would do anything I could to bring him back for you. But he’s gone. He wouldn’t want this for you. I mean… you’ve been mourning him for longer than you knew him when he was alive”, Jason said, his voice dropping to a gentle whisper. “He would not want you feeling this kind of pain. He would want you to… to be loved, and cared for, and happy. He’s always with you. He’s in the wind that shakes the leaves. He’s in the songs the birds sing in the springtime. He’s in the falling snow. He’s the warm sun on your face in the summer. He will always love you. But… he can’t love you in all the ways you deserve. In all the ways I know you want to be loved.”

Marie looked up, her tears having subsided for a brief moment as she sniffled.

He blinked slowly, trying to barricade his own feelings. “I know you have been having some feelings, Marie. It’s been obvious for a while. But you haven’t been allowing yourself to listen to them, have you? Maybe it’s time you do. Maybe these feelings are George’s way of letting you know it’s okay to start following your heart to… other places.”

“And I’m not just saying all this because I think you’re crazy beautiful and I want to be with you,” Jason rushed to caveat himself, chuckling nervously. “I mean- you are, and I do, but I also genuinely believe he would want you to move on and find happiness.”

Marie brought her cheeks up to her eyes and her eyebrows together in a confused squint.

“You… you think I’m beautiful?”

Jason let out a short giggle. “Me and the rest of the team. We were all secretly envious George ended up with someone so pretty and smart and funny.”

Her eyes widened a little as she tried to keep her composure. “The whole team? So… Ricky too? He thinks I’m pretty?”

Jason nodded.

Her face grew concerned. “Not Peter though, right? I mean, he’d been with Kim since before George even moved here.”

A wry smile turned the corners of Jason’s mouth up. “Don’t tell Kim, or I think she’d kill him.”

Marie chuckled, tears hovering at the corners of her eyes, before a sinking realization made her look back at Jason.

“Don’t tell me… not Teddy, too…?”

“He called you a stone fox,” Jason said, adding emphasis on the slang. “Said you were stacked.”

Marie made a disgusted face before laughter at the absurd comments shone through.

“Ugh. ew. Now I have to live with the knowledge that my body has been in that asshole’s brain.”

The two laughed awkwardly at the situation before sighing into heavy silence. Marie blinked, looking towards the door.

“I think you’re a wonderful fella, Jason. I do. But… a real relationship… it would just be unfair to you. Part of my heart will always belong to George, whether he’s still my boyfriend or not. You deserve to be loved by someone who loves you with all of their being.”

Jason put his hand on her upper arm, putting her attention back on him.

“See- that’s the thing. I know you will always love him first. And I’m not pretending like I’m going to be his replacement, either. But there is plenty of room in this relationship for George’s memory. He’s always going to be a part of both of us. But that doesn’t mean we have to live in the past, either. He wouldn’t want us to. It’s time, Marie. Time to look toward new things.”

Marie swallowed, the tears returning to her eyes. “I know. But it’s so hard. It’s so hard to let go. Every time I think I have, it comes back.”

Jason let his arm fall down her arm until he gently wrapped his fingers around her hand.

“It is hard. But we can explore it together, Marie. As a team. And it’s going to hurt, and it’s going to feel strange, but it will be so worth it. You just see. Besides, nothing will really change. I’ll still be minding Henry like I always have, I’ll still have my job to take care of you two. It’ll just… be a little different.”

Marie fell silent for a moment, looking at his thumb as it gently brushed over the back of her hand.

“You… you can be Henry’s dad if you want.” Jason got the feeling that that was the greatest honor Marie believed she could bestow, a title so important to her it was almost sacred.

“Oh, are you sure? I’m perfectly happy just being Jason,” he said. He wasn’t fine with it, and hadn’t been since Marie made it clear he wasn’t to use the name Dad since Henry’s birth. But he felt like he couldn’t just greedily accept something so deeply personal to her without at least a little pushback.

She put her own hand on top of the one holding hers. “I’m sure. George will never be around to hear Henry call him Dad. But you will. And you’re the one who has been taking care of him. You’ve fed him, dressed him, bathed him, done everything a normal father would. And he isn’t even yours. If anyone has earned the right to call themselves his dad, it’s you.”

Jason smiled, a short breath of relief escaping his nose. He leaned his head forward to join with Marie’s at the hairline.

“Thank you, Marie,” he said. “Seriously. I would want nothing more.”

Marie closed her eyes, leaning into him for a brief moment before pulling back and meeting his gaze. He now held one of her hands in each of his.

“I love you, Marie. And I know I’m not George, and I’ll never be George, but I don’t want to be George. I just want to love you in my own way. And I promise what Teddy, Chuck and I did to hurt you… it’ll never happen again. You will never have to suffer that grief again. I won’t leave. I won’t… prank you, or whatever, none of it. I just want to be your husband. For real.”

Her soft smile faded.

“Jason, I can’t…” she trailed off, not sure what exactly it was she couldn’t do. Jason squeezed her hand.

“You don’t need to say anything right away. Just think about it. But just know it is totally fine to, uh, keep a candle lit for George. It’s not an issue for me. Hopefully, eventually, you won’t need to, but it’s no problem if you do. I’m happy to take whatever love you can offer me.”

Her dark lashes shielded her coffee eyes from view for a drawn out breath.

“This conversation sounds familiar.”

A smile flickered and twitched on his nervous face.

“Sorry, I can’t recall.”

After another moment of pause, Marie nodded.

“We can… see how it goes, I guess. I mean, there’s really no turning back after last night. So. We’ll see what happens.”

That was more than what he wanted to hear. Just as he opened his mouth to speak, a sharp rumbling came from his stomach. His shoulders shrugged as he chuckled and pushed some hair out of his eyes.

“I’d love to continue this conversation but… I’m kinda hungry.”

Marie swallowed and reciprocated his halfhearted laugh.

“I’ll heat dinner up for you.”

He cocked his head.

“You made enough dinner for me? Even after…?”

Marie raised an eyebrow in a sort of ‘duh’ expression.

“You still worked a full shift, did you not? I wouldn’t just starve you because I was upset.”

They were both smiling as they stood up and walked to the door.

Jason gave her pale, round face another look as he turned the handle.

“I think George would be proud you managed to learn so much from his passing. It has given you so much wisdom.”

Her thick eyebrows fell to her lashes.

“Sorry, what did I learn? I’m not following.”

His smile grew wider.

“Mercy.”

Chapter Text

Mama, my train broke,” Henry whined, holding out his worn wooden toy for his mother to inspect. Marie bent down, inspecting the toy in her son’s hands.

“Oh no, honey,” she lamented, “Did something happen to it or were you just playing a little rough? Was it one of the other kids?”

Henry retracted the toy back towards himself. “I don’t know,” he said. “It just…broke.”

Marie furrowed her brows as she straightened up. “Well, your birthday is coming up, I’ll tell Dad to make sure you get a new train. But you need to be careful with your toys, okay? You’re almost eight, honey. That’s almost ten. You’re a big boy, now. We need to make sure we treat our things nicely, so we can have them for longer.”

Henry nodded.

“Did you have fun at school today?” Marie asked as she took Henry’s brown canvas satchel from him. She looked down at it and smirked a little. Back in her day, she was sent to school with a brown paper bag and a leather book strap. These new bags all the kids were carrying around sure would have been nice, especially in high school when she had to tote around a whole stack.

“Yeah. We made a baking soda volcano,” he said, jumping over the cracks in the sidewalk.

“Oh, wow, that’s so exciting, honey,” she said. “You’re a real scientist now!”

Suddenly, the distant roar of sirens made Marie flick her eyes from her son and survey the street ahead, just in time to see the Sheriff's cruiser tear down the Main Street, followed closely by the oddly-shaped ambulance. Marie was still getting used to seeing the thing around, as it was a relatively new addition to the town, and it wasn’t out very much as Gallows Creek was as boring as it was predictable.

“Mama, what’s going on? Why’s the Sheriff in such a hurry?” Henry asked, pulling at his mom’s sleeve.

Marie squinted at the building the cars disappeared behind.

“I’m not sure, honey. But if the ambulance is following him, it can’t be good.”

Later that evening, Jason came through the front door to his home, closing it behind him before kicking off his shoes and walking to the kitchen.

Marie stepped out from behind the counter and reached up for the sides of his face as he rested his hands on her hips, the two meeting in the middle and exchanging a quick kiss.

“Evening, sweetheart,” Jason said softly.

“Hi, baby,” Marie answered back before stepping back into the kitchen. Pet names had become slowly integrated into their relationship over the years, with neither of them being all too picky about the ones used to address themself. Well, except one, which had continued to remain staunchly off limits.

“Did you hear the sirens today?” Marie asked in passing as she began to cut up the chicken she’d prepared.

Jason walked over to the hallway bathroom to quickly wash his hands before dinner.

“I sure did,” he said as he pushed open the door. “Sounded like they were in an awful hurry.”

“What do you think it was?” Marie asked. Henry pushed himself up onto the counter and looked down at the meal his mother was playing. “Honey, off the counter please, Mama has a sharp knife,” she said in a passive yet stern parental tone.

“Not a clue,” Jason said, watching the soap form foamy bubbles in the warm water. “Whatever happened, I sure hope they’re okay.”

Marie nodded. Henry still sat on the countertop. Without looking up from what she was doing, Marie directed another warning to her son. “Honey, please don’t make me ask you again. I just don’t want you getting hurt.”

Henry obeyed his mother, clambering off the counter and landing on his feet with a soft thud on the hardwood floor.

“Want to tell Dad what you did in school today?” Marie asked as she walked the food to the table, wiping her bangs out of her face with her palm.

Henry hopped up onto the chair and eagerly reached for his fork. Jason chuckled.

”Hey, at least wait for your folks to sit down!” He said lightheartedly. “You act like we never feed you.”

Henry looked up at his dad with glassy, guilty eyes before leaning back in his chair.

“…We made a volcano.”

Jason raised his eyebrows and nodded in approval. “Very nice, kid.”

Marie rounded the corner with a pitcherful of water, which Jason turned to intercept.

“I can pour, don’t worry about it,” he said. Marie took her hands off the pitcher.

“Did you want a beer, baby?” she asked as she sat down. “I went to the store today.” Jason shook his shaggy hair and leaned over the table as he emptied the pitcher into the three glasses arranged by each placemat.

“Nah, I’m fine,” he said. “Did you?”

Marie shook her head, taking a sip of water.

“Can I have one, Ma?” Henry piped up, cheek full of chicken. Marie coughed as a bit of her water escaped into her windpipe.

“No, honey, you know they’re for adults. Besides, you wouldn’t like them, anyway. It’d be a waste,” she said, throwing a comical glance at her husband.

The family ate their food and spent a few more hours at the table playing cards and other simple board games until Marie looked over at the kitchen clock and announced it was time for Henry to get ready for bed. After sending him off to go get his pyjamas on, Marie picked up all of the stacked plates on the counter and walked them around to the sink. Jason stood up and walked around behind her, touching her shoulder in a gesture for her to scoot out the way.

“Here, I can do that for you,” Jason said. Marie raised an eyebrow as she sidled closer to the fridge, picking up a clean cloth to dry the dishes she’d just cleaned.

“Is something up?” She asked, narrowing her eyes a little. Jason wiped circles around the white plate with the sponge.

”No? Why would you think that?” He asked plainly.

Marie shook her head to clear it.

“Just… you’re acting weird. At dinner, helping me with the dishes,” she explained. He turned to her for a moment before going back to the washing.

”I hope you don’t consider those things odd… given I’m your husband and it’s my job to help you out,” he reminded her. “Being surprised would mean I’m a bad partner.”

“No, it’s not that you don’t normally help, it’s just… something’s up with you,” She said, a sly smile peeking through her scrutiny. Her eyes were keen enough to pick up a flicker of a smirk on his face before it returned to neutral concern.

”Not a clue what you’re talking about,” he said.

“Mama? I put pjs on and brushed my teeth. Can you read to me now?” A voice from behind them piped up over the running water. Marie turned around, glass and cloth in her hands.

“Oh, sure, honey,” she agreed, but Jason held out a hand to stop her.

“Hey, buddy, how about you let Dad read to you? Would you like that?” Jason asked. Marie’s quizzical expression returned. Henry just shrugged. “As long as you do the voices.”

Jason exhaled through a toothy smile and followed Henry to his room, leaving Marie to put away the dishes.

“I’ll be right back, hon,” he called over his shoulder.

Marie shook her head and rested a hand on her hip before grabbing a clean glass and pouring herself some water from the sink. She took it over to the sofa and sat down, resting her heels on the supporting bar under the coffee table and thumbing open her copy of Children of Dune. She was never really one for sci-fi - though she stuck on Star Trek when it was on from time to time as a teenager as it was all her classmates were ever talking about - but after being gifted the first in the Dune series a few years back, she found the series oddly palatable.

After about twenty minutes, Marie heard the muffled talking behind her stop before the squeaky sound of door hinges gave way to faint, socked footsteps. Jason walked around to the couch and sat down next to her.

“Dune?”

Marie nodded, turning the page before sticking her bookmark down into the paper and closing it, returning the book to its resting place on the table. She sighed, sinking a little deeper into the couch.

“Henry broke his toy train today at school,” she said. “Good idea for a birthday present.”

Jason looked at the carpet in bewilderment. “I thought we agreed we were gonna get him the bicycle?” Marie shrugged.

“Why not two gifts?”

Jason stared at the floor some more before blinking. “Sure, yeah, I guess so.”

The two were silent for a beat before Jason reached over and closed his hand around hers.

“Hey, actually… that kind of reminds me… did you give any more thought to that thing we were talking about last week?” He asked, a hopeful lilt in his voice.

Marie looked at him confused.

“Huh?”

Jason’s eyes darted quickly to the other side of the room, then back to Marie’s.

“Well, about if we wanted to give Henry a brother or sister.”

Marie laughed softly, leaning her head back into the pillow and gazing up at the ceiling for a moment before turning to Jason.

“You’re still on that?”

He couldn’t stay serious.

“Humor me, Marie. Let’s just talk about this. We’re in a good spot financially right now. Economy is doing well. We’re grown up now- almost ten years of experience raising Henry. We know what we’re doing. We’ve got the space- Henry’s bedroom is big enough for two, plus, he’ll be away at college when the little one gets big enough to want their own space. ”

Marie scoffed, a soft breath of air leaving her nose as she smirked.

“If you’re worried about me treating Henry and the baby differently- don’t, okay? Henry’s my son. Nothing will change that,” Jason reassured her, leaning forward.

Marie’s jovial expression neutralized.

“I don’t doubt how much you love him. But I don’t know, Jason… having Henry… it was hell. On my body. On my mind. It’s a big thing.”

“But that’s where things are different. I’m with you. Not just as a friend this time. All the support you need, I will give it all to you. And you’re not 18 and scared and alone anymore. Things will be better. Henry would be a good brother, I know he would. He’s a wonderful kid.” Jason’s eyes flashed briefly as another point came to his head.

“That’s another thing. Henry… he’d be old enough to help out, too. You have experience being a decade older than your sister. You’d know how to navigate it all from Henry’s perspective. You’d know how to handle talking to Henry about a new baby. I just… I’ve still got a lot of room left in my heart, Marie. I think we could make it work.”

Marie’s eyes wandered around the dark floor.

“Jason, I… I know how much having another baby means to you. But the truth is… the whole having a baby thing is really the only thing that’s truly just between George and I now. The last time I was pregnant… he was still alive. And I know none of this is fair to you. You want another baby, you should have one. You deserve it. But I just… I don’t think I can do it.”

Jason’s chest deflated. He’d anticipated something like that was the real reason behind her hesitance.

“No, you’re right. I get it. I’m sorry, Marie. It’s understandable you want Henry to be the only baby you ever have. I should’ve thought about that more.” His voice sank lower, unable to hide his sadness. Marie leaned over to him.

“Hey. It’s all right. No need to be sorry. Plus Henry’s a handful as it is, and we haven’t even hit the teenage years yet. And who knows? Maybe we can get a cat or something if you really need something else to love.”

Jason’s spirits raised a little as he watched Marie get up from her seat. Once she was out of the way, he rose to meet her.

“I think I’d like a cat.”

Marie warmed. “Let’s talk about it tomorrow. I’m going to bed. If you’re staying up, I’ll leave the bedroom door open so you don’t have to open it when you go to sleep and wake me up. Goodnight, baby. Love you.” She leaned into him, kissing his lower cheek. Before she pulled away, Jason leaned his forehead down and shook it gently in a tender nuzzle.

“I love you, too. Goodnight.”

The next morning, the two woke up side by side. After a quick embrace and a morning’s greetings, the two began their day in the now usual fashion. As soon as Marie had finished dressing herself and resting herself for the day ahead in the bathroom mirror, she walked out to wake little Henry up down the hall before heading to the kitchen to start on breakfast.

Jason was not far behind her. Raking a hand through his fluffy brown hair and pressing his other hand into his side to crack his joints, he wandered into the kitchen to help his wife.

“What’s on the agenda for today?” He asked, pulling back the handle on the refrigerator door and grabbing a carton of orange juice.

“Nothing special. Just gonna walk Henry to school, come home, do some cleaning, fix the shower and re-pot the pansies,” Marie said cheerfully. “Did you check if Henry was awake?”

Jason made a negative-sounding hum as he tipped the contents of the carton into a glass. Marie picked an egg up from the carton next to her on the counter and let the runny substance fall into a small bowl before tossing the shells into the sink.

“Hold on, I’m gonna go check on him. You can scramble the eggs if you want,” she said, pointing to a fork already on the counter.

“How many do you want, sweetheart?” He asked as she walked over to Henry’s room.

“Oh, two is fine for me, thanks.”

Marie knocked on Henry’s bedroom door.

“Honey? Are you awake? You need to brush your teeth and have breakfast,” Marie warned.

Suddenly, the door opened, and Henry stood looking up at his mother, sleep still in his eyes though he was properly dressed.

“I’m ready, Mama,” he said, almost a little annoyed. Satisfied, Marie let him pass so he could fix himself up in the bathroom before joining the rest of them at the table for breakfast.

When they’d all finished eating and making idle conversation about the day ahead, Jason followed Marie and Henry outside, making sure Henry had all of his books and snacks before watching the two of them leave the porch and disappear down the street.

His work started later than Henry’s school, and he had the car, so he was not too bothered with a rush. He walked out into their driveway towards a grey lump behind the back wheel of his car. Surely he had a few minutes to read the morning’s paper before leaving for work.

After he bent down and picked up the rolled up stack of paper, his foot made a step towards the front door, but his movement halted suddenly as his eyes ran over the headline.

An ache of sadness washed over his chest. It seemed that the event yesterday requiring the sheriff and ambulance had indeed been serious- a bus had collided with a truck delivering fuel not far from the town limits. And it appeared that unfortunately, not everyone survived. Jason undid the rubber band keeping the paper twisted and folded the paper out to its full length. As he continued to read down the page, his general sadness for the loss of life became a more visceral, cutting pain.

Two of the many victims of the crash were none other than Peter and Kim, people he had in the years past come to know as good, reliable friends. Jason slowly put the newspaper down, unable to read any more. His gaze drifted off down the street to nowhere in particular.

His friends were gone. In an instant, completely removed from existence. It didn’t feel any more real than it felt to hear Marie’s desperate cries almost a decade ago. Just last week the four parents had all met up with Chuck and Ricky, catching up on life and sharing funny anecdotes about their sons.

Jason’s heart seized.

“Oh, shit,” he whispered. His mind shifted, then, from the names he saw printed plainly in that deep black ink, to the one that was notably missing. He realized in that moment a fact as chilling as it was heartbreaking, even more so than the fact two of his longest known friends had met violent, fiery deaths -

Poor little Eugene was an orphan.

Chapter Text

Marie hadn’t expected to be back in the old church for a long time. Yet here she was, clad in an entirely black ensemble sitting in the pews with her comparably dressed husband and son beside her, staring ahead at two long wooden caskets flanked by flowers on the altar. It was nothing short of discomforting. Whatever happy memories she once held in that church, like stealing cheeky glances at George and his family on Sunday mornings or playing quiet games like rock paper scissors with her sister when they’d get bored, were overshadowed and darkened by the memory of George’s funeral. That was the last time she’d been inside.

Eventually, after a few speeches from the preacher and other assorted family and friends, some of which in a language Marie could not understand, a woman who seemed close in age to Marie stepped behind the pulpit. Her hair was long and dark, and her face mirrored many of the notable qualities in Kim’s portrait that stood beside her casket on a wooden frame.

As the woman spoke, with tears in her eyes and a shake in her voice, it became clear to Marie that this woman was Kim’s older sister.

“I don’t think I’ve ever met anyone as kind and funny as Kim,” the woman said. “Being her sister and watching her grow up was one of the greatest privileges I have ever been given. She was always there to cheer me up when I was sad or share in my happiest times. She made every day better. She wasn’t just a good person, but she also had the ability to see the good in others and bring out their best. Kim chose a wonderful man to be her husband. And they raised the most amazing, sweet, incredibly smart little boy. I couldn’t be more proud to call myself his aunt.”

Jason leaned over to his wife, and Marie tilted her head to him. “I wonder if she’s his godmother,” he whispered to her. Marie nodded, having the same thoughts herself.

”And I know my parents and I won’t do half as good a job raising Eugene as Pete and Kim have, but I know she will be there for me like she always has been, guiding me into doing what is right.”

Marie flashed a small glance at Jason. It seems he was proven right.

She knew why he was wondering that. Eugene’s custody arrangement would determine if there was any chance at all the two of them could look into adopting him. If Pete or Kim’s family didn’t take him in, Jason was fully prepared to offer Eugene a spot in their home, where he had practically grown up already.

In time, the service came to an end, and the mourners followed the caskets outside into the cloudy spring. Staring ahead at the street lined with cars, an echo of the eventual procession to the graveyard, Jason expelled all the air in his lungs.

“This must be the most unlucky town in America,” he said, turning to Marie. “George, Chuck almost getting crushed, Ricky almost losing himself down the bottle, and now this. I can’t believe they’re gone. Didn’t even make it to 30.”

Marie squeezed her son’s hand in an attempt to comfort the child. He wasn’t crying, but she could tell he was upset from his stiff posture and how his gaze fell to the ground. Movement from her periphery, however, made her look up from her son to see two more people approach them.

“It’s crazy we’re all back here so soon,” Ricky said, coming to a stop between Marie and Jason. Behind him, Chuck moved towards the gathering group as well, though his steps were a bit uneven from unfortunate irreparable damage as a result of the Ferris Wheel disaster.

Ricky rubbed his freckled nose on the back of his hand and smoothed some of his shoulder length hair behind his ear. “Peter and Kim, man. I can’t believe it. Those poor things… I just hope they didn’t suffer.” There was redness around his bright blue eyes- a sign of his gentle nature but also a welcome sight for Marie and Jason, who had trouble seeing his face and not remembering its sickly paleness in the immediate years following George’s death.

Chuck nodded. “Yeah, God, and Gene… that poor kid. Thank God he wasn’t on the bus with them, but… Did you see him up there with his grandparents? We should… I don’t know.”

Marie shut her eyes in solemn contemplation. It was difficult enough looking at the washed out portraits displayed on the altar that bore the faces of people she’d learned to forgive and eventually care about, but having to walk down the aisle and hear that little voice meekly whimper “I want my mommy” drove a deeper pain into her heart. It went against her own code to compare suffering, but deep down she knew that while Henry also lost a parent, at least it was only one, and at least he never knew him.

“What. A. Tragedy. Can’t believe they’re gone. Kim was such a nice girl, and what an arm on Pete, right?”

That voice. Even managing to avoid it for all these years Marie instantly recognised its slithery cadence and self-important stressing. Her eyes snapped back open, hoping to be proven wrong but knowing any hope was futile.

Her ears didn’t lie. Standing just outside the circle of friends, between Ricky and Chuck, Teddy Gallows Jr flicked some pristine medium blonde hair off his brow and flashed a toothy white smile. Marie’s jaw instantly tensed and her stare was laser focused. The other members of the group didn’t fare much better. Jason’s solemn resting expression hardened, his eyes going wide at the audacity. Ricky jumped and directed his gaze to the floor, shrinking in on himself. Chuck’s eyebrows knitted in nervousness as he slowly turned over his shoulder.

“It feels like forever since we’ve all been together. Ricky! You look good! And Chuck! It feels like it's been ages. I try to come down to the gas station but it seems like you’re never there during daytime hours!” Teddy crowed in a voice so friendly it was impossible to tell if he was being sincere, pushing himself further in the circle. Ricky and Chuck mumbled greetings while avoiding eye contact. When Teddy’s eyes settled on Marie and Jason, she couldn’t help her upper lip twitch with contempt.

“Look at you two. Still going strong, I see. How sweet you found such lasting love out of such a tragedy. Boy, it sure has been years since I last saw you, Marie. Lost all that baby weight, good for you. Any plans to pop out a few more for him or is this one all he’s getting?” Teddy chuckled in a desperate attempt to get everyone else to laugh along.

Marie didn’t even give him the decency of a curse. Grabbing Henry’s arm with considerable strength, Marie tore away from the group, white-hot angry tears searing her eyes.

Jason looked to her, then quickly back to the gang.

“I think the procession is going to start. I’ll go see,” he said hastily before running after his family.

Teddy looked to Chuck and Ricky. “How strange. Must’ve been her time of the month, I guess. She never really was all that stable anyway. So, are you guys going to head out for drinks after the burial? Drink away the pain?”

Anyone with sense would know that was a horribly rude thing to say in front of a former alcoholic, but sense was something Teddy strongly lacked.

“No, man, I uh… I gotta go,” Ricky stammered before stalking off, his long legs making wide strides.

Chuck gave Teddy a nervous grimace before limping off in the direction everyone else had gone in.

At least the graveyard was more familiar to Marie than the church. Here, she didn’t feel as out of place. The graveyard didn’t judge her like the church did. Its paths had seen her footprints many times. It wasn’t somewhere she necessarily liked to be anymore, but at least she felt like she could breathe.

It had been a very nice burial, and the Parkers took some time to talk with the family afterward, including taking turns giving tight hugs to Eugene. After the burial ceremony had ended, most of the guests in attendance left the graveyard after giving similar condolences. However, some dispersed elsewhere on the premises, undoubtedly to pay their respects to others who had already been buried.

Marie sighed, her eyes still gazing solemnly at the discolored patch of dirt carved into the ground, adorned with a large grey marble headstone at one end. They’d been buried side by side. In one hole. A lasting testament to their marriage. Their headstone even displayed their last name only once- “STINE” in the middle of the plate in big block letters just above their first names.

She reached out slowly, curling her fingers around Jason’s hand. They met eyes for a brief moment before Marie looked to her other side. Henry felt his mother’s eyes on him and tilted his head up to her, the spring breeze gently blowing his loose black curls.

“Hey, Henry, let’s go see your father. Would you like that?” Marie asked softly.

Henry could just barely remember going to see his father's grave. He couldn’t remember the way. He took his mother’s other hand, falling a step behind as his parents led the way down a few small dirt pathways until they eventually came to a stop.

“See that? Why don’t you try reading it out to us?” Marie asked. It had struck her that the last time Henry had been here, his reading skills were vastly behind what they now were.

Henry took another step forward.

“George Theodor Barrow,” he read aloud, sounding the name out slowly and deliberately. “Born one nine five zero. Died one nine six eight. He lost his way.”

Henry looked back to his mother for reassurance and feedback. She cocked her head and smiled with a closed mouth.

“Very good, Henry. That’s what it says.”

Henry returned to his mother and leaned into her hip, wrapping his arms around her.

“Your father would have been nineteen years old when you were born. I bet you think nineteen is really old, huh?” She asked him playfully, patting his back. “When you get to be as old as your mama you’ll see just how young that really is.”

Henry unburied his face from his mother’s side, looking back at her with her own coffee brown eyes.

“What happened to him?”

Marie chuckled softly, yet sadly, at the question. “He died, Henry. You know that.”

“No, but how?” He pressed.

Marie’s smile faded into something more vulnerable and tender.

“He fell from very high up and hit his head, honey. He went unconscious and drowned.”

Henry picked up on the way his mother’s face changed. The subtle rise in her lower lashes, the quiver in her lip, the lowering of her eyebrows.

“Did you see it?” His voice was slow and almost at a whisper.

Marie nodded with closed eyes. The memory, unlike her other memories, still appeared as clear and crisp in her mind as if it happened the day prior.

Marie felt a squeeze around her waist. Opening her eyes again, she found Henry with his arms wrapped around her, snuggling his face into her dress once again.

“I’m sorry, Mama,” he said in the gentlest voice he could. Marie stroked his hair.

“It wasn’t your fault, Henry. It’s all right. It was years ago.”

Marie felt a hand on her shoulder and a small kiss planted in her hair.

“You’re so sweet, Henry,” Jason remarked sincerely. “You’re just like him. You have your mother’s face and your father’s heart.”

Marie lifted her head and let her gaze wander across the graveyard, lost in thought. Mostly about what George would say about how she was raising Henry. That is, however, until her eyes came to a stop on Kim and Peter’s lingering mourners, where the woman she knew to be Kim’s sister stood talking to her parents, her hand gently holding little Eugene’s hand.

“Hey, Henry?”

Henry’s attention became trained on his mother’s face.

“How would you like to meet your auntie?”

Chapter Text

“Do you think she’ll be mad?”

Marie fidgeted with the paper bag dangling from her slender fingers. A gentle breeze that threatened to become a gust from the looks of the grey storm clouds overhead swept her hair across her shoulders as she walked.

“Of course not. You’re her sister.”

Jason’s voice was soft and reassuring.

“From her perspective, I walked out. I ignored her for ten years. Showing up like this… I don’t know how it will make her feel.”

The visit wasn’t completely unannounced: Marie had told her father she wanted to reconnect with Peggy and have her meet Henry. He’d responded by saying that Peggy’s having her 18th birthday party the next week at his house, and that she is welcome to drop by and catch up. Whether or not Peggy knows her party is about to be crashed remains to be seen, however. It struck Marie as a bit odd Peggy would be having her birthday party at their father’s house, as opposed to their mother and her husband’s, where she had been living for the past four years, but it didn’t occur to her to ask about it then.

Jason wrapped his hand around her free one and squeezed.

“It’ll be okay.”

The three of them walked up the porch steps and stood just in front of the door. They could hear laughter and muffled music on the other side of the wall, the expected sounds of an 18th birthday party.

Letting loose a shaky exhale, and bracing for the worst, Marie raised her hand and pressed the small brass doorbell.

There were a few moments of pause, where the Parkers stood frozen on the porch, none daring to move, not even little Henry. Marie’s heart crashed in her ears, drowning out the accented crooning from the record player.

Suddenly, the door handle jiggled slightly before turning, causing the door to fall back in its arc.

Peggy opened the door with a wide grin, a practiced pleasantry she’d been using to greet all the party guests the whole afternoon.

“Hi, welcome in-“ once Peggy’s eyes caught up to her mouth, her smile dropped, and she fell silent. Even though the music was still blaring from inside the house, it was as if the entire world lost all sound.

The sisters stared at each other for what seemed like minutes. They’d both aged considerably since they’d last seen each other, and it was a lot to take in for them both. Marie had lost whatever amount of baby fat had been clinging to her cheeks as a teenager, and her dark hair fell to her mid-back as opposed to being cropped at her shoulders. She had creases on her forehead and by her eyes that weren’t there a decade ago. She now wore a wedding ring on her left ring finger in addition to her pearl pendant. More obviously, she was no longer visibly pregnant, but her figure had been observably marked by motherhood.

Peggy was now a young woman herself. Her hair was still short, in an almost androgynous, fluffy and coiffed haircut, but her face had matured dramatically. She was now a considerable deal taller than she had been at ten, though still shorter than Marie. And she obviously didn’t have the proportions of a child anymore, either. It was absolutely undeniable that Marie’s baby sister had, much to her dismay, grown up.

“Marie…” Peggy trailed off, her golden eyes wide. Marie smiled nervously, shrugging a little and gesturing with the hand holding the gift bag.

“Happy birthday, Peg.”

“I can’t believe it,” Peggy said, her breath a faint huff. “You’re actually here. You came back.”

Marie chuckled softly. “I never left. Can we come in?”

Peggy shifted frantically.

“Oh- yes! Of course! Come in!”

As Marie and the rest of her family walked inside, Peggy realized with great embarrassment that she’d forgotten to greet her other two guests.

“Hi, welcome!” She said as Marie put her gift on the nearby table. “I’m so sorry, you must be…-“

Marie gently cut her off as she floundered for the appropriate words.

“This is my husband, Jason, your brother-in-law,” she gestured to Jason, who waved and flashed a gentle smile. “And this is your nephew, Henry.”

Peggy’s eyes flitted down to Henry, who was not much younger than she’d been the last time she saw Marie.

“Of course- your grandfather told me all about you, Henry. It’s so nice to finally meet you!” Henry gave a shy wave before shifting his eyes to elsewhere in the house.

Peggy looked up to Marie again. “God, he looks just like you,” she said. Marie chuckled. Peggy’s nervousness was incredibly endearing.

“Hey, Jason, why don’t you take Henry to find some snacks?” Marie asked her husband. When he looked over to her, the look she gave him made him raise his eyebrows in understanding.

“Oh, yeah, yeah, sure. C’mon kid, let’s find the snacks. Would you like that?”

As soon as Jason and Henry walked off down the hall, Marie looked back to Peggy.

“Is there somewhere we can talk? Alone? It’s just… it’s been so long. I want to catch up,” Marie asked. Her voice was soft and gentle, as if she were scared Peggy would say no.

Peggy nodded, turning and waving Marie deeper into the house. It was all still foreign to Marie- even though she had brought Henry to her father’s house many times, it was neither the home she grew up in nor the home she made herself. Even when the walls were decorated with streamers and balloons and filled with upbeat music, Marie couldn’t help but feel oddly out of place.

After a few more paces, Peggy turned into a room, looking back over her shoulder to make sure Marie was still following.

Marie crossed the doorframe, turning around to close the door behind her. The sounds of the party in the living room and garden were dampened, behind a dull hum of background noise. When Marie turned around, she realized Peggy brought her to her room.

It looked nothing like her room back at their old house- the one that their mother apparently got in the divorce. That one was decorated with bright paint and an abundance of toys and dolls. This one was a dark brown and speckled with the occasional book, rug or Roddy Snatcher poster. It was quite obvious a teen girl lived here, and not the child Marie knew.

“Um, so, I know you’re probably upset-“ Marie started, but was cut off when all the air in her lungs was forced out in a swift and sudden constriction. Peggy squeezed her arms as tightly as they could be squeezed around Marie’s chest, hooking her neck over Marie’s shoulder. The bottom half of Marie’s vision was obscured by fluffy brown curls.

“I missed you so much,” Peggy whimpered.

Marie stood, stunned, before she wrapped her arms around her little sister.

“I missed you, too.”

Their intense hug seemed to last for an eternity, but simultaneously not long enough. When Peggy finally pulled away, her eyes were misty.

“You’re all grown up, Peggy,” Marie managed. “I want to hear all about your life. Catch me up. What are you thinking of doing after you graduate?”

Peggy rubbed the tears out of her eyes. “Well, obviously, after the divorce, Mom moved on quickly. Then our stepdad moved in after a year or so when he and Mom got married.”

Marie blinked, The divorce and her mother’s second marriage weren’t news to her- her father had explained it while he was over at her house getting to know Henry some years ago. It struck Marie as interesting, however, that Peggy had used the word ‘our’, as if Marie was somehow still a part of their broken family and not forcefully rejected from it.

“How did you… how did you take the divorce?” Marie asked. Peggy sighed.

“Well, y’know, Dad… he wasn’t the same after you left. So… even as a little kid, I knew… they weren’t going to be happy together anymore. So in that sense I was glad when it happened- at least they’d stopped fighting all the time. And Mr. Weaver was a nice man. You know Mom made me take his name when they got married, right?”

Marie looked at the wall. “Well, actually, I didn’t leave. I was, uh,” she struggled with the words. “I was kicked out.” Her expression shifted into confusion. “Hold on- did you say ‘was’?”

Peggy nodded solemnly. “Mr. Weaver passed away in February.”

Marie recalled a funeral in town that winter, but didn’t know it was for her mother’s husband. Not that she kept tabs on her mother anyway, and not that she would have attended even if she did. She was just surprised her father didn’t tell her. Maybe he was just as in the dark as she was.

“I’m so sorry to hear that. How’s school been? Excited to be graduating?”

Peggy nodded. “Yeah. It’s been quite the uh, adventure, but I’m happy to finally be done. We only have a week or so left. Everyone’s been scrambling around trying to make sure they can walk at the ceremony.”

A small hopeful smile came to Marie’s face. “Does Mrs. McGillicuddy still teach English?”

Peggy swayed a little. “Oh, yeah! I had her this year. I loved her. She had a way of making me actually want to be in the classroom.”

A wave of nostalgia washed over Marie and brought her back to her own high school days. She was particularly close with that teacher, who also headed the drama department and was thus in very close proximity to Marie and the rest of the drama club. Marie briefly recalled sitting in her classroom talking about theatre with her and the rest of the drama kids.

“Oh, good,” Marie said. “And what are you thinking about after you graduate? What do you want to study in college?”

This seemed to be a very easy question for Peggy to answer. Her demeanor relaxed even more, and a glimmer of excitement pinched her eyelids.

“I think I wanna go into radio,” she said. “It seems so fun and interesting.”

Marie chuckled. “Like, as a host or a technician?” Peggy wanting to be in the spotlight was not surprising- as a child she was always enamored when she saw Marie performing on stage and talked endlessly about being famous one day.

“Well, I was thinking, if I get the production side down, through school and training or whatever, then they might let me try hosting after I prove I can handle myself and not break anything!”

Marie admitted it was a pretty decent strategy, to build up marketable skills and then try for fame once a backup plan was established.

“But just- hang on a minute.”

Peggy’s voice had suddenly become low, cautious, and uncertain.

“What did you mean when you said you got kicked out?”

Marie stared. “Mom and Dad really didn’t tell you anything, did they? Even after all this time?”

Peggy’s frizzy brown hair shook around her face as she gestured in the negative.

A great sigh escaped Marie’s nose. She took a brief pause of silence because responding in a withdrawn, somber tone.

“Then… I think it’s time you knew what really happened back then. You’re eighteen now, a grown woman. You should know.”

Peggy took a step closer, trying desperately to read Marie’s face.

“What happened to you, Marie?” She whispered.

Marie let her eyes fall closed for a few moments.

“Do you remember the name George Barrow?”

Peggy nodded. “He’s that kid who drowned, right? What does he have to do with any of this?”

Marie swallowed. “Well, that George is the same George I was dating at the time.”

The memories came back to Peggy in flashes. She remembered her sister occasionally coming home with a blonde boy who would play games with her and help her with her homework while Marie watched over them. She remembered the two of them occasionally picking her up from school to go get milkshakes or babysitting her when their parents were gone. She also recalled the few months before Marie disappeared where Marie’s demeanor had become not dissimilar to a walking corpse. Emotionless, stiff, completely uninterested in playing. The dots began to connect.

“He was Henry’s father, wasn’t he?” Peggy asked in a measured tone.

Marie nodded. “Mom and Dad thought my symptoms were just… grief manifesting. I honestly did, too. I only started suspecting something a few months in, and even then, I kept ignoring it all because I just couldn’t handle the thought.”

Peggy’s eyes became glassy and wet.

“I eventually saw the doctor about it, and they ran tests to make sure. That’s how Mom and Dad found out. They… they were pissed. I’ll spare you the details of what they said,” Marie continued, staring into a face that reflected the exact age she’d been when she received the words she couldn’t dare say, “but they wanted me out of the house immediately. One bag, in winter. I couldn’t even say goodbye to you.”

Peggy heaved in disbelief. “Marie, what? They told me you disappeared one day. Just left, with no reason. They lied?!”

Marie pursed her lips. “They lied so you wouldn’t resent them, Peggy. That was also, at least partly, the reason for the divorce. Dad couldn’t live with what he did to me. And he couldn’t stand lying to you. So… it got to a point where they had to separate.”

Peggy shook her head. “I thought… I thought you just left so you could get married. I thought your husband…” she trailed off, her own thoughts confusing her.

“I didn’t marry Jason in 1969 because I loved him,” Marie clarified somberly. “I married him because my son needed a father and I needed a roof over my head and money in my pocket, or else I was going to have to flee West. I love him now, but just not then. And he’s a wonderful dad. He was George’s best friend.”

Peggy narrowed her eyes and tilted her head, her eyebrows rising in the middle of her forehead.

“Why didn’t you tell me before?” She asked hoarsely.

“Because… because you were just a kid, Peg. You didn’t need all this on your shoulders then.”

“I get that, I guess, but… you never came to visit even after the divorce. Not even when I was at Dad’s. It’s like you didn’t want to come back at all. Why did you act like you disappeared?” Peggy’s expression darkened, a hint of anger and hurt pulling at her cheeks.

Marie shook her head. “Of course I wanted to see you, Peg. It’s just… there are other things going, things you being close to me would just put you in the middle of. And I just, sort of, didn’t want you worrying about me.”

“What do you mean ‘other things’? What’s going on with you?” Peggy asked pointedly.

Marie sighed defeatedly. “Nothing you can change. I shouldn’t have even brought it up.”

Peggy touched her sister's shoulder.

“Marie, tell me what’s going on. I want to help.” Vulnerability that was much more in character than anger for Peggy replaced her grimace.

“I told you, Peggy, there’s nothing you can do.” As much as it hurt Marie, she knew it was true. If the town wouldn’t believe a direct witness who was a teenage girl at the time, what could the word of a teenage girl who wasn’t a witness do? “It’s best we just drop it.”

Peggy looked into Marie’s eyes, comparably darker than her light brown ones, and saw more pain than she thought she’d find. Being abandoned as a grieving, pregnant teenager wasn’t all Marie was upset about and whatever piece of the puzzle Peggy was missing seemed to weigh heavily on Marie’s mind. But Peggy knew better than to press her older sister.

“Okay. All right. If that’s really true, then I guess I don’t need to pry,” she said reluctantly, taking a step back. Marie nodded solemnly.

“That’s… kind of what has been up with me, anyway.” Marie awkwardly looked at the wall. “Should we go out and say hello to your friends before Jason and I leave?”

Peggy scratched her arm. “Well, there’s one more thing I should probably tell you before you go.”

Marie’s thick eyebrows pulled down.

“What is it?”

Peggy sighed, her face contorting in pain as she struggled to articulate something.

“Mom’s sick,” she finally said, her mouth forming a tight line as her eyes darted back and forth before coming to rest on Marie’s.

Marie’s eyes widened.

“What?”

“She’s… sick, Marie. Really sick. The doctors think she has a few months left. Maybe less. That’s why the party is here and not at her house.”

“Dad didn’t say anything about…”

“He…. He doesn’t know. Mom won’t speak to him anymore, and I haven’t worked up the courage to tell him yet.”

“You should, Peg.”

Peggy looked at the wall of her bedroom uneasily. “I know, I just… it’s hard. I don’t even know if he’d care.”

“He would, Peg. He loved Mom. He loved her like I loved George. We were… in the same position at some stage. They divorced partly because he realized he wasn’t being the kind of partner she deserved. Yes, he regretted sending me away and she didn’t, but that doesn’t mean he hates her or anything.”

“Do you want to tell him?” Peggy asked.

“I think it should be you,” Marie urged.

“O-kay,” Peggy said in a drawn out, reluctant inflection.

Marie smiled.

“It’s so good to be back with you, Peg.”

Chapter Text

It was nothing short of surreal being back in Marie’s childhood home. Some parts of it- the beige walls, the brown rugs, the chunky furniture- remained just as she remembered them. But there were also things so eerily altered from her memory they seemingly screamed for her attention. The family pictures hung up in the halls were of an improved quality and featured brighter colors and the subjects bore different faces than the ones she remembered.

She couldn’t help but detour down the hall, away from where her visit was supposed to take her, and peer into her old bedroom.

At least, what used to be a bedroom. What she was looking at now was an office. There was a dark brown desk by the window where her bed used to be, where she’d lean her upper body over the windowsill in the blue dawn, waving her dear partner goodbye as he disappeared around the side of the house.

Her posters and pictures were gone. In the warm daylight, she could barely make out little scuffs and dark spots where tape had once protected the wall from the sun. Her closet was replaced with a slew of filing cabinets. Her clothes were gone. She didn’t know why she expected any different. But it was difficult not to feel a little sad about it.

“In here, Marie.”

Marie blinked, looking over to the source of the voice. Her sister stood at the end of the hall, in front of a closed door.

“I know, I was just-,” Marie tried to reassure Peggy, but stumbled over her words.

“Ready?” Peggy asked. Marie nodded. As she stepped closer to Peggy, she instinctually looked down at her side, where Henry usually was when she was out and about, but snapped back up to Peggy once her brain caught up with her. Henry was at school, and she and Jason had come alone. Jason was dutifully waiting on the porch, understanding he wasn’t the intended audience for a conversation between a dying mother and her daughters.

As soon as Marie closed the distance between her and Peggy, Peggy reached out and gently knocked on the door.

“Mom? You have someone here who wants to see you,” Peggy said. A muffled voice said something on the other side of the door.

Peggy turned to Marie. “You want me to wait out here or go in with you?”

Marie thought for a moment. She hadn’t spoken to her mother in nearly a decade. Perhaps, if things do end up going sideways, Peggy shouldn’t be present to hear it.

“You can stay out here, or go wait with Jason. I think… I think I want to talk to her alone.”

Peggy nodded, taking a step back and allowing Marie to slowly open the door.

Her mother’s bedroom was almost identical to how she remembered it growing up, with the exception that all traces of her father had been removed. Even evidence that Mr. Weaver had shared this space was scarce. It was like Martha Campbell- Martha Weaver- was trying her hardest to forget the men she married. Four carved wooden pillars reached up to a frame that haloed the bed, suggesting that there were once curtains shielding the bed, though Marie never remembered there being any.

Martha herself was sat propped up in her thin pink sheets, patterned with flowers Marie had always thought were incredibly gaudy and tacky, even in the 60s. She looked obviously sick. Her skin was pale and thin, and she looked like she had lost a considerable amount of weight, which made her already thin frame look near skeletal.

“Mom? It’s me,” Marie said in a soft voice. “Marie.” It surprised Marie that someone so frail could make her, a woman nearing thirty years old, feel so small. But when her mother turned to look at her with the same disapproving scowl she used to when Marie hadn’t taken out the trash soon enough or cleaned the house to Martha’s preferences, Marie felt like an eighteen year old child again.

“Oh.” Was all her mother said.

Marie started again, taking another step and putting her pale hand on the sheets.

“Mom, I just… I’m so sorry you’re sick. I just wanted to come by and tell you how much I appreciated having you as a mother growing up. And… I was hoping we could put aside what happened back then, and have a real relationship. For… however long you have.”

It was an incredibly difficult thing to do, to extend an olive branch with the obvious undertone of the interaction being to reconcile before one party dies. Especially since the pain of the fall and winter of 1968 continued to wriggle and writhe around in Marie’s heart.

Marie’s mother blinked slowly, not from any fault of her lack of energy, but in the way people blink to show they’re uninterested, annoyed, or simply couldn’t give a shit.

Marie huffed a small puff of air out of her nose.

“So you’re not even gonna pretend to want to see me.”

It wasn’t a question. It was a statement.

Martha’s eyes gave Marie a judgmental once-over.

“You’ve made your choices. Why should I welcome you back into my life when you don’t deserve it?”

Marie’s eyebrows raised, and she tilted her head back at the audacity.

“Excuse me?”

“Well, you’re here for the inheritance, aren’t you?”

Marie felt her face tighten.

“You don’t think it’s possible a woman would want to get on good terms with her dying mother purely because, for some goddamn reason, even after all the shit she’s put her through, she still loves her somehow? You think I’m just after your money?! Give it all to Peggy. I don’t need it. I just can’t understand what I ever did to you to make you hate me this much.”

Martha rolled her eyes. “Don’t give me that. You ruined my marriage. You ruined my life. All you ever were was trouble. You could never just act sensible, like your sister.”

“I ruined your marriage?” Marie repeated in disbelief. Though the rest of Martha’s sentiments weren’t new information. Peggy was the golden child of their family since she was born. Anyone who wasn’t absolutely blind to their family dynamic could have seen that.

Martha went on. “It will never make sense to me why you decided to throw your lot in with that white trash hillbilly. He wouldn’t have amounted to anything. Even if he hadn’t killed himself.”

Marie was annoyed and offended before, but her mother was steadily pushing her into enraged territory. Her teeth stayed locked together, her jaw taught as she spoke in a low, measured tone. “Because I loved him, Mom.”

Martha sighed. “I already knew you were foolish, Marie. You don’t need to remind me. Your little bastard is quite proof enough.”

“I thought you’d understand. Don’t pretend like you and Dad were any different,” Marie countered, hoping to at least make her mother see what a hypocrite she was being. “I can do math.”

“At least your father had class and wasn’t some soot-covered drunkard who couldn’t even figure out how to swim. But it worked out for you in the end, didn’t it? You found that poor sap you could trick into providing for you anyway.”

Marie had heard enough.

“Oh, go to Hell, Mom. I’m done with this,” she snapped as she turned on her heels and opened the bedroom door a little wider. As she left, she heard her mother call after her.

“Good. Leave my house, you lying bitch. And don’t come back.”

Marie stalked down the hall so fast she didn’t even see Peggy by the door, holding her hands up to her mouth.

Marie flung the front door open, walking down the porch steps and only stopping when she got to the sidewalk and she felt Jason’s hand on her shoulder, spinning her around.

“Marie? Are you ok? What happened in there?” He asked, searching his wife’s flushed face for answers.

She looked at him, that same offended scowl on her face, for a moment before her facade broke and she burst into tears.

“She hadn’t changed at all! She’s so mean to me, she doesn’t care about me, she wants me gone!” Marie wailed.

Jason wrapped his arms around his wife, cradling the back of her head and kissing her hair.

“I’m so sorry, Marie,” he said. “I’m so sorry.”

“Marie!”

The two of them turned in the direction of the shout to see Peggy running down the porch steps. When she reached the couple, she threw her arms around them in a tight hug.

“I heard everything. I’m so sorry. I can’t believe she’d do that to you.”

Marie wiped her cheek with her palm. “It’s okay, Peg. I don’t know why I expected any different.”

Jason sighed, leaning into Marie even more.

“Sometimes people just shouldn’t be forgiven.”

Martha Weaver died two and a half months later. Her ex-husband, the closest living family member, had her buried in the cemetery a few days later. He attended her funeral, as did most of the women her age in town and a few of their husbands. Marie, Jason, and Henry did not. They stayed home and waited for Peggy and her dad to come calling.

A few hours into the afternoon, when the summer heat pounded down on the flat land at full strength, there was a knock on the Parkers’s door. Marie got up from her spot on the couch and opened it to see her sister in a black blouse and trousers, and her father wearing his black suit pants, holding his jacket in one arm. Their faces shone with sweat.

“Come in guys, don’t let the cold air out,” Marie said as the two stepped in. Peggy sighed, scratching her head before sitting down next to Henry, who was reading a comic book.

“How was it?” Jason asked, pouring two glasses of water. Martin pinched his nose as he lowered himself onto a chair facing the living room.

“Fine. Her friends from the bridge club were there. Said some nice words.” It was obvious that his brevity was just as due to exhaustion as it was due to emotion.

Henry looked up from his comic.

“Where did they go?” He asked.

Marie grimaced as she looked to Martin, then Peggy, then to Henry.

“Your grandmother passed away. So Grandpa and Aunt Peggy went to her funeral.”

The next question was obvious.

“Why didn’t we go?”

“Honey, your grandmother wouldn’t have wanted us to go. She wasn’t a very nice lady to me. I gave her a chance to change, but she told me in no uncertain terms she didn’t want to be a family anymore. Sometimes you just have to accept that your family isn't always going to get along, and respect their wishes.”

After parenting for eight years, Marie had become an expert in spinning her answers into lessons for her son. Her real answer, ‘because your grandmother was a callous hypocritical old bitch who hated both of us and took great enjoyment in dragging your father’s memory through the dirt, and I’d actually rather go eat glass than attend her funeral’, was not an age-appropriate answer.

“I said hi to George while I was there.”

Marie turned to her sister whose abrupt interjection caught her completely off guard.

“He has a nice spot,” Peggy followed up her earlier statement with. Marie nodded.

“He does.”

“I’m so sorry, again, for what happened to him,” Peggy offered. “His story should remind us all to watch how much we’re drinking. Not that I drink now.”

Had Peggy’s belief of what happened back then been true, Marie would have agreed with her. A more pertinent lesson, perhaps, would be to choose your friends wisely.

“That’s true,” she said. She tried not to look at Jason, whose dark eyes were trying desperately to catch her attention.

Peggy and Martin stayed for a while, sharing more cold drinks and playing cards before they eventually left. Not many words were spoken about Martha Weaver that afternoon. No one was really sure what to say.

“Are you okay? You know, you did just lose your mother,” Jason said later that evening, when Henry had retired to his room to play. “Obviously I get why you’re not exactly in a pile of tears, but are you feeling any bit upset at all?”

“I lost my mother nine years ago, Jason. I don’t feel much of anything. I was grieving her at the same time I was grieving George.”

“I wish she was nicer to you.” Jason said, folding a pair of pants and placing them in a drawer. The type of things Marie had described her mother saying to her, not even when she was kicked out but most of her childhood, he couldn’t imagine his own mother saying to him.

Marie exhaled sharply out of her nose from on top of their bed.

“Yeah. Me too.”

Jason realized how stupid that sounded.

“Sorry. I just… sorry.”

“It’s all right,” Marie assured him. “I wish she was nicer to George, too. She didn’t care about his memory, didn’t care about getting him justice, nothing. Even when he was alive, he never once felt welcome in our house when she was around. A tolerated nuisance at best, and an unwanted intruder at worst. He did everything he could. Brought her flowers, never cursed, dressed well, cleaned up after himself, had me home on time - well, mostly, but that wasn’t his fault -“ Marie trailed off with a bashful giggle, before sighing, her face returning to a solemn resting position. “We were just… unworthy to her, I guess.”

By this time, Jason had slid into bed next to her. He leaned over and gave her head a quick kiss.

“Well, she judged wrong. You’re worthy to me. I hope she has the rest she deserves,” he said before sliding down into the sheets.

“Yeah. I do, too,” Marie agreed. “I do, too.”

Chapter Text

The next ten years passed in a blur of milestones and memories. In the fall of 1978, the Parker family and many of their still remaining friends around town celebrated the tenth anniversary of George’s passing by visiting his grave, having drinks and eating together in the park. In private, Marie went down to the river again, for reasons she didn’t really understand herself. It simply felt important enough for her to do alone.

A similar party was thrown in 1983 for the fifteen year anniversary, except this time, the party was at Ricky’s newly opened roller disco, which he had finally saved enough money to purchase from the old owner who was moving away. The next anniversary, an understandably smaller affair, was also attended by Ricky’s new dog, Max, who he had rescued from a shelter in Minneapolis after feeling that he needed someone to share the disco with. Chuck, Marie, and Jason were markedly impressed as to the improvement Max made on Ricky’s mood. He’d done most of the heavy lifting himself, and had gotten himself completely off alcohol, but having a companion did wonders for his spirits.

In this time, homage was also paid to Kim and Peter, with both the Parkers and the remaining Stines visiting their dual grave and remembering them in equal frequency they did George.

With each anniversary of George’s death, Gallows Creek’s youth carried on the Whistling Night tradition. Marie and Jason had grown reluctantly accustomed to the ritual, knowing there was nothing they could really do to stop kids being kids, but that didn’t mean they didn’t tense up when they heard children whistling down their street at night. They spent those nights how they spent them in the years previous: go to bed early, share stories and talk about their lives for a while, before trying their hardest to fall asleep. Henry never participated, despite being surrounded with kids who were. He knew better than that. He’d put two and two together a long time ago. He knew the reason Whistling Night taking place the night of his father’s death anniversary, and why his parents hated the holiday, was not coincidence.

One event in that decade that was unexpected, though secretly welcomed by a majority of the town, was the death of Theodore C. Gallows, Teddy’s father. Apparently, he had suffered from a heart condition that had finally become too much for his aging body to handle. Of course, many who were on the receiving end of some of the shadier things he had done joked that his death was the only proof he had a heart at all. Others said that it was proof he had something wrong with his heart that prevented him from feeling empathy for anyone who didn’t have generational wealth.

When Marie and Jason read the obituary in the morning paper that gray spring morning, Marie jumped out of her seat and began doing an impromptu tap dancing routine in her socks on the kitchen floor. Amused, her husband asked what she was doing, to which she replied she was practicing for when Mr. Gallows was buried and she could dance on his grave. He laughed then, because knowing his wife, she’d probably actually do it. Which she did, the next time she visited George. Jason said he hoped that George was giving the man a stern talking to, though Marie countered that if they were able to have any sort of conversation beyond the grave, let alone exist at all, George and Mr. Gallows would not be in the same place. Jason agreed.

Teddy of course hosted a huge celebration of life ceremony, inviting the whole town to come celebrate his father (and by extension his family). Lots of people in town did in fact attend, but many did not, especially those who realized that this extravagant party was probably paid for with their rent money.

Chuck, Ricky, Marie, Henry and Jason did not attend. They spent the evening at the roller rink, watching Ricky teach Max how to skate using little makeshift roller skates he’d constructed out of some baby shoes and spare wheels. Everyone tried to skate with him at least once, except Chuck, whose injury made his leg hurt after a while if he tried to skate.

Peggy pursued her dreams of studying communications, picking up as many classes in radio and audio technology as she could. With the amount of money her mother and stepfather left her, and the support from her remaining family, she was able to attend college free from worry. Marie was incredibly proud of how hard her sister was working, expecting her sister to rise to the stardom she’d dreamed about as a child. When Peggy returned to Gallows Creek after graduating, Marie was shocked. But even when Marie told her about how she could be so much better paid, live more comfortably, make more friends if she stayed in the city, Peggy responded that she knew where she belonged, and that place was Gallows Creek. It didn’t hurt that she also inherited her childhood home.

Not too long after returning, she got a job working in the radio station in town- a small, unfortunate place that desperately needed a younger voice, as it mostly just broadcasted news, weather events, and recounts of sports games. Marie was honestly in disbelief it was still around.

In the time it took for Peggy to go to college, return, and solidly establish herself as a working woman among her fellow adult citizens of Gallows Creek, Henry grew from a little boy into a young man. He became interested in many of the same things other teenagers were interested in during the 80s- films, tv shows, and rock bands. He even picked up the electric guitar when he was fourteen or so, which his parents arranged lessons for. In his teenage years, Henry shot up in height, passing up his mother and stopping just about at his stepfather's height. Had George been alive, Henry would have passed him up, too. His eyes stayed the same rich brown as his mother’s. Most of his face stayed close to hers, in fact. Though as he grew into his more masculine features and out of boyhood, one could recognize traces of George if they squinted, especially when Henry smiled. It was a little lopsided, tilted in that endearing way his father’s was.

Henry had, by this point, a good idea of what his father looked like. After a while of asking his mother, when Henry was sixteen years old, Marie finally opened her tattered box of memories for him to see. Her hesitation wasn’t due to a perceived lack of interest from Henry- it was clear Henry wanted to learn more about where he came from- but from an uncertainty as to her own readiness to share these memories with her son. She’d done a lot of work to put her pain behind her, but every so often it became overwhelmingly strong, especially after a particularly bad nightmare or a reminiscing session that went too deep. She’d found over the years that she never truly stopped grieving George, and that completely forgetting about him was impossible. But day to day, she thought of him less and less.

The photographs weren’t the only thing she kept in that box, though. The Barn Finds cassette, the one her own father had returned to her many years ago, sat unplayed, nested within the Polaroids. Henry picked it up to examine it, and his mother explained the significance of it. It had been years since she’d heard that song, on the radio or otherwise, but she could still tell Henry the meaning of its lyrics both intended by the author and personal. It was, on paper, about a soldier coming back to the United States, eager to see his family and friends again, finding comfort in familiar pleasures after being away from home for so long and suffering in the war. Marie explained that to the two of them, the song was about their love, and how no matter how bad things get when they’re apart, and no matter how long it takes, they’re happy when they are eventually together again. Of course, in those days, the longest they were apart was a few weeks at a time when George went on hunting trips with his father, though that time was unbearable for two teenagers high on hormones and madly in love. She never knew how much more she’d come to understand the pain of the soldier in the song back then.

Henry kept that knowledge with him, occasionally thinking back to his mother’s words and the look on her face as she reminisced about the old days. She was very happy in the life she’d built herself, loved her husband very much, and could walk around town carefree, no longer caring about the opinions of the townsfolk. But as he aged, Henry could tell the pain had never really actually gone away. Marie was just very good at focusing on her present and allowing herself to feel the happiness she’d cultivated.

It was because of this noticing, that a year later, weeks away from his high school graduation and eighteenth birthday, college acceptance letter pinned to a cork board above his desk, he stopped by the kitchen to ask his mother a question.

“Hey Ma, you never went to your senior prom, right?”

Marie turned around, her feathered, hair-spray coated black hairdo bouncing off her shoulder. Her face seemed surprised at such a random question.

“No, honey, I didn’t. That was so soon after George passed away. I was in no state to go, not even with your dad.” Her answer came after she had time to register the question and return to her regular nonchalant demeanor, organizing a stack of plates to put back in the cupboard.

Henry blinked, unmoving. “Ah.” He knew his parents were married out of necessity before he was born, that wasn’t a surprise.

Marie turned back to Henry. “And even if he were still alive then, and none of this happened… well, I was just about ready to have you.” Her mouth curved in a gentle smile. “I probably wouldn’t have gone anyway, being that pregnant.”

Henry scuffed the floor with his shoe. “Do you… wanna go with me to mine? I already asked the teachers if it was ok.”

Marie’s eyebrows moved inwards as her cheeks rose to her eyes in pity. “Oh, honey, are you sure there isn’t some girl you’d wanna ask instead? Or a friend?”

Henry shook his head. “Theres no one I want to go with more than you.”

It was true. While not a complete loner -he was in an amateur high school band with a few other boys, was still friendly with Eugene and amicable enough to his classmates- Henry was as introverted as his father was. He didn’t have a super tight group of friends in his year, and sure, there were a few girls in class that caught his eye, but talking to them was out of the question. Not that he was particularly focused on dating, either.

Marie’s face spelled relief and delicate joy as she exhaled and tilted her head slightly. “Oh, Henry…. If that’s really what you want, I’ll go with you.”

Henry smiled that lopsided smile.

“Okay.”

Chapter Text

Marie stared at her reflection in the mirror, lowering her hand from her ear after securing her large, sparkly earring. Her makeup was done much heavier than she’d normally wear it- she used color on her eyes and a bright lipstick. Her cheeks were blushed in the slightly over the top style that was in fashion during the late 80s. She didn’t really need to put anything on her eyebrows as they were already so dark and thick, but she had put a little bit of eyeliner on. Her hair was huge. Growing up in the mid to late 60s, she was no stranger to hairstyles with volume, though they were usually quite sculpted, shiny and smooth, which was difficult to achieve with her curly texture, even when brushed out. Nowadays, though, her natural frizz was a thing of envy. It made it much easier to tease it and pose it with an ungodly amount of hairspray when it was already so light and airy.

Her dress was nothing like she would have worn in her youth, either. It was a nice sky blue, and though the sleeves were incredibly puffy, her neckline was modest and sophisticated enough for the dress to clearly be intended for a woman of her age. The skirt of the dress was quite long, a far cry from the miniskirts that had even worked their way into bridal fashion when Marie was a teenager.

Taking one last look at herself, she sighed. It was difficult to believe she was just a few weeks short of thirty seven. Still relatively young, but still surreal to her. It felt like her eighteenth birthday was just yesterday. But the years she’d lived showed themselves proudly in the little lines in her face and the memories she’d made her whole adult life.

Jason and Henry turned to face her as she walked down the hallway. Henry was dressed in a nice suit, a rental, with a blue tie to match his mother’s dress. His black curls had been fluffed up and cut shaggily. A dull, nostalgic ache panged in Marie’s heart as she looked at her son. He was almost a man, and after that coming September, he would begin to be older than his father had ever been.

Jason was the first to speak.

“Oh, wow, you look beautiful, hon,” he gushed supportively.

Marie smiled and looked down at her dress for a brief moment.

“Aww, thank you, sweetheart,” she returned. She turned to Henry and reached up to touch his cheek.

“Look how handsome you are, my sweet baby boy.”

Henry reflectively tilted his head into her hand.

“Thanks, Ma. I like your dress,” he responded.

“Here, let me get a photo of you two,” Jason said, picking up the camera he’d placed on the dining room table earlier.

Marie turned to her husband, backing up so her shoulders fell into line with Henry’s. Jason pointed the black piece of equipment in their direction, adjusting the lens into focus.

“Smile!”

Marie and Henry lifted their faces in practiced, pleasant expressions of happiness until the shutter clicked and a bright flash burned their eyes for a brief moment, forcing them to blink rapidly.

“Oh, whoops, the flash was on,” Jason said, fiddling with the various buttons and switches on the camera. “Hopefully it turned out okay.”

Marie waved her hand dismissively. “Oh, I’m sure it’s fine, sweetheart. But we should probably get going.”

“Right, of course,” Jason responded with a slight bob of his head. “Have fun, you two. And don’t forget to tell me all about it afterwards.”

Marie and Henry walked toward the door, turning to wave at Jason before they stepped outside and made their way to the car.

The prom was located in the gym. The school did their best to try and distract from that fact, pushing the retractable bleachers into the walls and decorating the ceiling with balloons and streamers. But even under the multicolored lights and confetti littered all around, the lines and circles were still visible on the polished court floor.

Marie took in the sights, slowing down to a halt as she passed through the doors lined with a curtain of shimmery fabric. She hadn’t been here in decades, but the details of the place was just as she remembered. The name of the school was plastered in big sportsy lettering at the back of the gym, just underneath the imposing black digital scoreboard. The emblem of their school- a literal, honest-to-God hangman’s noose- artistically displayed on the wall nearest to where she came in.

“This is where I met George.” Marie almost didn’t realize she said it. The music playing from the DJ booth against the wall behind of one of the basketball poles made it difficult for her to hear herself on top of the already dreamlike state she was in.

“What was that?” Henry, who was at her side, asked over the music.

Marie looked over at him. “This is where I met George,” she repeated.

“Oh, wow,” he answered. “Nice.” He wasn’t really sure what else to say to that, and obviously Marie didn’t see many possible ways to continue that conversation, either, as she fell silent for a while, simply taking in the party and the sea of seniors dancing or chatting or sipping soda, all decked out in bright colors and gravity-defying hairstyles. Their youthful faces brought her back to a time when she was young, too, the party lights resembling the multicolored stage lights she used to perform under.

Eventually, the two found themselves swaying to the beat of the songs the DJ was playing. Marie noticed a few occasional stares or glances at her from the students, but by then she’d resigned herself to the fate of being gawked at and just continued to move to the music. Who cares if some kids thought she was a chaperone or something? She was here to enjoy herself.

As one song, carried by the intensity of its electric guitar, faded out, before the next one could start playing at full volume, Henry leaned over to his mother.

“I’m gonna go get some pop. Do you want any?” He asked. Marie shook her head.

“No thanks, honey, you go enjoy,” she assured him. Henry disappeared into the crowd of dancing kids, camouflaging against the other suit-clad bodies.

Marie stood in the center of that court, now completely alone with the thoughts that managed to sneak past the blaring music and raucous crowd. She used to love big events like this. While George was never really a people person, always shrinking in on himself when strangers were near, she was most comfortable when other people were around. She fed off their energy and took joy in making others laugh and forget their troubles, even just for a while. It was so much harder doing that now, not just because of what she went through, that biting isolation, but simply because there weren’t that many opportunities to entertain anymore. She didn’t have that many friends left.

Marie was snapped out of her thoughts when a weak tap on her bare arm made her turn to her side.

A girl, obviously high school age but maybe a little younger than her son, looked up through feathered blonde bangs.

“Sorry, my necklace fell off. Can you put it back on?” The girl asked, holding out a chunky gold necklace she must have borrowed from her mother. Marie smiled and took the necklace.

“Of course, honey,” she affirmed loud enough over the music to be heard. “Turn around.”

The blond girl turned around and lifted her hair off her neck.

“What’s your name? Are you having fun?” Marie asked as she fiddled with the tiny clasp, the strobing lights and long nails making her task all the more difficult.

“Carrie,” the girl shouted behind her. “And yeah.”

“I bet you’re excited to graduate,” Marie remarked, trying to fill time.

Carrie swallowed. “Oh, I’m not a senior. I’m just a junior. I’m here with my older sister and her friends. I bet you I have your work cut out for you, watching all these kids. I’ve seen some stupid shit here tonight.”

Marie chuckled. “Oh, I’m not working. I’m a guest, too. My son invited me.”

Carrie’s shoulders bounced a little.

“Oh, sorry, I just assumed.”

The necklace fell out of Marie’s hands, now secured to Carrie’s neck.

“There you go. Have fun, Carrie!” Marie said. Carrie turned to look at her, giving her thanks and waving goodbye before squeezing back through the crowd to find her sister again.

As she saw the young girl off, another shout made her turn around. Her son had re emerged from the crowd and came to a halt before Marie.

“Oh, you’re back!” She said. Her gaze flicked downward, noticing his arms were laying to rest at his sides. “Where’s your drink? I thought you went to go get some.”

Henry bit the inside of his cheek and smirked in that sideways manner he tended to use.

Before Marie could inquire further, the unmistakeable sound of someone fiddling with sound equipment caused her to look over Henry’s shoulder to the DJ booth. Over the course of the night, kids had been coming over to request songs or to tell the DJ to give a message to a friend or partner, so the interruption was no surprise. What was a surprise, however, was the message that came with the noise this time.

“This song request is from someone who couldn’t be here tonight but wants everyone to enjoy this song like they would have.”

She didn’t know what she was expecting, but the soft, meandering guitar and timid drums that marked the beginning to a song she must have listened to over a thousand times in her youth echoing off the gymnasium walls was not it.

Her eyes instantly locked back on Henry’s, and his sheepish expression made sense.

“Did you do this?” She asked.

Henry nodded, extending his arms out.

“Someone owes you a dance.”

Marie smiled, her vision obscured by her raised cheeks and pinched eyebrows. She pulled herself to him, wrapping her arms around his back in a tight hug.

“Thank you.”

The words were more felt as vibrations through his collarbone and chest than actually heard over the party.

“I don’t know what I did to deserve a son as thoughtful as you.”

Eventually, she let go, and tried to find herself in the music again. It had been decades since she’d heard the song, but it resonated so deeply in her mind that the old way she used to dance to it came back to her in seconds. Though tears of joy and pride blurred her eyes, she looked around at the kids. To her surprise and elation, most of them were dancing or swaying along, some laughing. Though she knew searching for George’s face in the crowd would be fruitless, it was impossibly easy to find his joy there. In that moment, he was alive.

And in front of her, she could see Henry was trying his best to enjoy the song, too. It was not his favorite kind of music at all- he would much rather be listening to more contemporary rock artists, and the political commentary in the song came from an era he was a bit too young to appreciate at the time- but he found it easy enough to move along to.

Eventually, the plucky guitar faded back out into another song Marie didn’t recognize along with another dedication from the DJ. Then that song became another song, and the cycle continued until Marie was so exhausted from dancing and her feet hurt so much in her heels she could only stand and lightly sway to the beat. The two decided then that it was about time to go home, back to the real world.

“Did you have fun?” Marie asked as she pulled out of the school parking lot, her hands turning the steering wheel gently.

Henry reclined his head back until it hit the headrest and sighed. “Yeah,” he affirmed. “Did you?”

Marie nodded, her earrings bouncing and reflecting the lights of nearby houses and street lights.

“It was the most fun I’ve had in a long time.”

The car fell silent for a few seconds.

“And Henry-“ Marie said, her mouth making a slight tick noise as it came unsealed, “Thank you again. For so long I’d been afraid that listening to that song now would be painful and different. And it was different. But now I know it’s not painful. Maybe it would’ve been back then. But now it’s not. And I wouldn’t have known that if it wasn’t for you.”

Henry swallowed, trying to think of a response.

“You’ve had a lot taken from you. They don’t deserve the satisfaction of ruining your favorite song for you as well.”

A hot puff of air left Marie’s nose.

“I guess you’re right,” she chuckled. “I can’t wait to tell your dad what you did tonight. He’s going to love it.”

“He’s been trying to get you to listen to that song for years, huh?”

“Yeah.”

A few minutes later, the car turned down their street and pulled into their driveway.

“God, I’m so tired now. What about you?” Marie asked as she put the car in park and unbuckled her seatbelt. Henry responded by attempting to stifle a yawn.

“Yeah.”

“All right. We’ll say hi to Dad then hit the hay. Sound good?”

“Sure.”

Marie giggled at the curt responses. “Glad we’re in agreement.”

Chapter Text

A few weeks later, the family celebrated Henry’s eighteenth birthday with Eugene and a few other kids Henry liked, including those in his band. It wasn’t too long after that that he walked across the small stage in the school auditorium for his graduation, proudly shaking his principal’s hand and displaying his diploma to the audience for all to see.

He spent the summer doing high school graduate nonsense- staying up late watching movies, reading books, and playing his guitar way too loudly. His parents didn’t mind too much though- as long as he was staying out of trouble, he was free to do whatever he liked.

That summer, Marie found herself thinking a lot about George. She remembered the conversations she had with people like Peggy and others who didn’t know George like she did. She remembered how they all believed his death was his own fault, a careless decision that garnered consequence. She recalled how a good handful of the adults back then went so far as to describe him as a violent drunk. An eighteen year old.

She knew different. She knew he was exceedingly gentle, way more docile than anyone would expect an enthusiastic hunter and outdoorsman to be. Even when he was royally pissed off, he never once harmed another person, and certainly never just because he could, like many adults seemed to imply. She knew how much he respected life- how he would eat everything he hunted, even the squirrels, and keep antlers or bones as reminders and tributes to the beautiful animals that sustained him. Someone like that wouldn’t throw away their own life doing something as stupid as trying to swim while blackout drunk.

He should not be remembered like that. He should not be remembered as a delinquent nobody. He should be remembered as he was: a caring, loving, adventurous, spirited young man who just wanted his friends to get along.

One evening, after turning the lights out and snuggling into her pillow, Marie decided that enough was enough.

“Jason,” Marie murmured, adjusting her head so her mouth was unblocked by her pillow. The arms cradling her waist and anchoring her to the bed tightened in a gentle, reactive squeeze.

“Mm?” Jason hummed in response. She could feel the vibration on the back of her neck. Marie closed her eyes, clasping her hands over her husband’s and floating her thumbs over his.

“I think it’s time the truth came out.”

Jason’s warm, calm breath on her neck and shoulders stopped.

“Like, that truth?”

Marie nodded slightly. “Our son’s legally a young man now. He’s George’s age. Come September, he’ll be older than him. It just made me think… it’s time.”

Jason’s leg brushed against Marie’s as he adjusted himself to be more comfortable, prompting a smirk to flicker over Marie’s face. After roughly fifteen years of a serious romantic relationship, she welcomed his touch and found amusement in his many quirks.

“Are you sure you’re ready?” A gentle kiss landed on the back of Marie’s neck, obscured through her feathered hair. She nodded.

“I’m sure. Are you?”

Jason grumbled in contemplation, his humming sounding like rolling thunder in Marie’s ear.

“Teddy’s father… he said I’d go away for a long time if I ever spoke out.”

Marie squeezed her husband’s hands once more.

“I know, sweetheart, I know. But he’s gone now. And Teddy, well, he’s also a pompous rich asshole, but he’s honestly not that smart. You think he would be able to pull off something like that? Framing you? I don’t think so. Especially not if we gather witnesses.”

“What do you mean, ‘gather witnesses’?” he asked.

Marie took an inhale, flipping around so she was face to face with her husband. She could barely see the contours of his features in the inky darkness, but she could feel his warmth. “We’re not just going to go to the police privately. First, we’re going to make it public. Hit him where it hurts: his ego. We need to convince as many people who were involved as possible to come forward and explain what really happened. Then, even if Teddy doesn’t see justice, at least the people of this town will all know the truth and nothing bad can happen to us- if one person like you gets the blame, it’s hard to identify a cover up. But if everyone gets harassed… makes it pretty obvious there’s something fishy going on, huh? He can’t silence us all.”

Jason filled his lungs with air before sighing deeply out of his nose.

“George needs us, Jason. He needs you. His best friend.” Marie’s voice was barely above a whisper. This was more due to her intended dramatic effect than necessity- Henry, being a legal adult and on summer vacation, could stay up as long as his whims suggested. She had no need to be quiet for him anymore.

After a few more seconds, Jason closed his eyes in resignation.

“You’re right. It’s time. The world needs to know.”

Marie reached up, running her fingers through Jason’s hair. He’d cut it short a while back, and she still wasn’t sure if she preferred this look or not. It certainly made him look more put together and mature, but if that was an attractive end, she couldn’t say.

“I knew you’d see it my way,” she purred as she tilted her face up, kissing his forehead. His arms squeezed her closer so when she brought her face down again, their brows nuzzled together while they hugged.

“So where are we going to start?” He asked.

Marie stifled a yawn, rolling out of his arms and onto her back. Her lungs deflated in a satisfied sigh.

“Tomorrow. We’ll start with the jazzercise lady.”

The couple drove up to the dance studio a few minutes before noon. Walking up to the glass windows, the two of them noticed with a start that a dance class was currently in session. A sprinkling of women Marie’s age, and a handful considerably older than her stood evenly spaced out on the foam mats beyond the front desk, all kicking and twisting to music Marie and Jason couldn’t hear.

“You think we should come back later…?” Marie asked out of the corner of her mouth as Jason opened the door, cueing a small bell to chime.

“Just a minute!” A cheery voice from the other side of the room called out over the music.

Marie and Jason exchanged looks, and Jason shrugged. The studio around them was eclectic enough to keep them busy while they waited. It was covered wall to wall in multicolored polka dots and swirls and ribbons of color not too dissimilar from a disco-themed rug like the one at the roller rink. There were also painted silhouettes of dancers in various poses along the back wall facing the large floor to ceiling mirror. All of these features seemed to be hand-painted, making it obvious that the owner of the studio put an extreme amount of care into its maintenance.

“So sorry about the wait! What can I do for you?”

The couple’s attention was once again drawn in front of them to the blonde woman in the hot pink exercise gear. While her face had expectedly aged into that of a woman two decades older than when they first saw her, and her hair was now short, she was still incredibly fit.

“Hi, uh, Sandra, is it?” Marie asked tentatively. It had been about two decades since they last exchanged words. Sandra beamed.

“That’s right!”

Marie looked to her husband quickly before looking back to Sandra. “Yeah- hi- so, I don’t know if you remember us, but we talked to you a really long time ago about the death of our friend, George.”

Sandra’s eyes widened in recognition.

“Oh, that was you two! I didn’t even recognize you, you’ve grown up so much!”

Marie and Jason laughed half-heartedly.

“Yeah, that’s us. So, we were wondering… if we decided to… let’s say, come forward… about what really happened to that kid you found twenty years ago, could we count on you to have our backs?”

Sandra’s cheery demeanor slowly became corrupted by fear and apprehension. Her voice was barely above a whisper, almost inaudible above the music.

“You know who I pay rent to, right? If I say anything, I’m gonna lose my studio. The Gallowses will raise the rent in retaliation. And I love this studio, but I’m not exactly pulling in record amounts of revenue here,” she said.

Jason put a hand up to calm her.

“That’s the thing, Sandra. It won’t be just you. We’re going to gather as many people who was involved as possible. They can’t bring us all down without major backlash. Too many testimonies will tip the scales of peer pressure in our favor,” he assured her. “Come on, Sandra. It’s been twenty years, give or take. It’s time to do the right thing.”

Sandra looked at Jason with large, glassy blue eyes, before closing them and exhaling in a huff.

“All right. I’ve got your backs. When do you plan on, y’know, breaking the news?”

“We are not entirely sure, that depends on when we’re able to make sure everyone else is on board, but we’re aiming for the anniversary of George’s passing in September. So we just have a few months.”

Sandra threw up her eyebrows. “Gee, that sure is soon! Well, best of luck with gathering everyone else up and all of that! I’ve gotta get back to class.”

Marie smiled reassuringly. “Of course. And thank you again. When it’s time, we’ll give everyone a call and make sure they are prepared. I already marked out your studio’s number in the phone book.”

Sandra seemed happy with this, as she returned Marie’s smile and skipped back over to the other side of the room, stopping to wave the couple goodbye as they turned out the door.

“One down, who knows how many to go,” Jason remarked.

The couple walked through the sliding doors of the hospital a short while after leaving the studio. Marie unwillingly recalled the most unpleasant, yet unshakeable time she’d been in: the day Henry was born. She had stumbled through the front door clutching her stomach, finally allowing herself to seek the care she knew she needed but didn’t want to receive, as that would mean having to accept the reality that George would not get to see the birth of his son. It was quite possibly one of the worst days of her life, despite what she tells Henry. It was so unpleasant, so isolating, and so distressing that she made Jason take Henry to his doctor’s appointments for the first few years of his life before she was able to go with him. At least the nurses there were nice.

“Hi, welcome. Did you have an appointment, or is this urgent?” The receptionist behind the front desk asked. She twirled a brunette coil between her fingers as her teeth gnashed on a pink piece of bubblegum.

Jason cleared his throat. “Um, actually, we just came to ask a few questions. Are any of your mortuary staff on duty today? Especially, I don’t know, ones that worked at this hospital nineteen years ago?”

The secretary gave him a confused look before pulling the pair of pink glasses from her forehead and turning to the giant, beige computer on her desk. The blocky keys made a satisfying clack as she typed something into her computer.

“Mm, well, we have two morticians here, but one is on leave. I have no idea how long they’ve been working here, I started here just a year ago. Do you want to try talking to them anyway?”

Marie smiled politely. “If they’re not busy.”

The secretary flashed a brief customer service smile before leaning back in her chair and poking her head down the hallway behind her.

“Hey, Dr. Ferdinand? Can you page Dr. Sullivan? Someone wants to talk to her.”

Another doctor poked his head out of a room and gave a thumbs up before ducking back in.

“She’ll be right with you,” the receptionist said. “You can have a seat if you want.”

Marie waved her hand in front of her. “Oh no, this won’t take long, we can wait.”

Marie was of course correct to assume that, as not five minutes later, a woman came walking down the hall toward the reception desk.

The woman was dark-skinned, shorter and full-figured, and she was wearing light blue surgical scrubs with a matching hat. Her short, pressed hair was pulled back for sanitary purposes. She looked to be in her fifties.

“Hello, I’m Dr. Sullivan. You can call me Virginia if you like. I’m the mortician on staff here,” Dr. Sullivan said warmly, her voice soft and breathy.

Marie sidestepped the desk so she could face Virginia with no obstruction.

“Hey, Virginia, nice to meet you. I’m Marie, this is my husband, Jason.” Marie gestured to Jason, who smiled in response. “We just had a few questions to ask you if that was ok.”

Virginia’s brow fell. “Sorry, I don’t understand. Is this about an autopsy?”

Marie’s eyes shifted nervously.

“Sort of. Did you work here two decades ago?”

The mortician nodded. “I did. Why?”

Marie took a step. “We wanted to talk to you about the autopsy of a teenage boy named George Barrow in 1968. Do you know anything about that?”

A flash of plunging fear surfaced in Virginia’s deep brown eyes.

“Follow me.”

Virginia spun around and trotted down the hallway, turning down a few other corridors before coming to a door leading to a stairwell.

“Down here.”

Marie and Jason followed Virginia down the stairs until she opened another door that led to another sterile white hallway. Deeming the location secure, Virginia turned back to the couple.

“How do you know about that? What did he tell you? Is he coming for me?” The questions were asked in rapidfire succession and barely above a whisper.

Marie’s face puckered. “What? Who’s ‘he’?”

Virginia’s eyes scanned their faces, assessing their confusion to be genuine. She huffed a short sigh before going “Nothing. Never mind. What do you want to know?”

Marie blinked. “So… George’s autopsy. That was you, correct? You did it? Do you remember it?”

Virginia closed her eyes. “Yes. It was me. I don’t think I’ve done a procedure on anyone that young before or since. That poor boy.”

The look on Virginia’s face told Marie she was speaking from the heart. Marie couldn’t imagine the doctor saw many bodies under 60, even less so under 25. She was obviously very affected seeing a dead teenager, despite dealing with death near daily.

Jason coughed softly. “So, Dr. Sullivan- Virginia, I mean. We just wanted to ask you… about the autopsy you published. It said George was highly intoxicated and had bruises on his knuckles. Did you… did you really observe those things? Or was it maybe not entirely true?”

The doctor shifted, some of the color draining from her face.

“You don’t know what you’re doing. You shouldn’t be asking about that,” she said in a low, measured tone.

Marie stepped forward. “Hey, it’s okay. We know. We were there twenty years ago when everything happened. We know the truth. We know you lied.”

Virginia took a step back, her hands beginning to tremble.

“I didn’t really have a choice.”

“I’m guessing… from your comment earlier, someone’s threatening you into keeping silent. Is that true?” Jason said, putting a hand on his wife’s shoulder. Virginia nodded, swallowing hard.

“There’s a man. Clive. He said he worked for someone who wants George’s death to look self-inflicted. I don’t know who. And I haven’t done any digging to find out.”

Marie and Jason exchanged looks. “We think we know who has been threatening you. And we’re here to tell you they won’t be a problem anymore. See, we need you, Virginia. We’re planning on coming out with the truth, but for it to have any staying power at all, for George to get any sort of justice, everyone involved needs to come forward as a united front. Can we count on you, Virginia?”

Virginia shifted to her other foot, wringing her hands nervously. “If you’re sure I won’t get hurt…”

“We’re sure. We’re risking a lot, too. But this is the right thing. George deserves it.”

Virginia nibbled at her lip, looking down at the floor before she met Marie’s eyes. “But… all the evidence. My tape of the event. My notes. They’re all gone. Clive, he burned most of it and took the rest. I don’t have anything to back up what I’m saying.”

Marie shook her head. “Don’t worry about that. Your voice is all we need. Can we count on you?”

Virginia paused before eventually offering a tiny nod.

Marie stuck out her hand, grabbing the mortician’s and giving it a squeeze.

“Thank you. You don’t know how much this helps. We’ll call you and tell you when it’s time.”

The next person they talked to was the editor in chief of the local newspaper, an old, grizzled man named Maurice Russell. When Marie inquired as to his haste for killing George’s story almost as soon as it broke, only publishing a few papers on his death, he explained that a large chunk of the newspaper’s functioning was provided for by the Gallows family through the rented office space, advertising for businesses the Gallowses owned, and donations. If the Gallows family didn’t want something investigated, they wouldn’t investigate it. There was simply too much at stake.

Jason questioned how someone with any journalistic integrity at all could allow themselves to be bought out by the highest bidder, and Maurice admitted the paper relied too heavily on the Gallows family to be an unbiased news source, but that it was either that, or no news at all. This town was founded by Gallows money, for Gallows money. The paper couldn’t sustain itself on ads from local businesses alone. Marie recalled Peggy complaining that she was having a similar issue at the radio station she worked at- always having to run ads that were basically fluff pieces on how great Teddy and his family were. She dreaded the coming fall, when Teddy would inevitably start his mayoral campaign for the umpteenth time. Marie questioned why such a small town even had mayoral elections, or a mayor at all. Her best guess was one of Teddy’s ancestors somewhere down the line liked the spectacle of a campaign, even though it was completely unnecessary and most towns Gallows Creek’s size would just appoint someone from the town council to serve.

Nevertheless, Mr. Russell eventually agreed to supplement the movement with whatever he had in the archive after a few more attempts at convincing him the paper would be at least somewhat safe from retaliation- the biggest potential boon being the increase in business once the story broke. He even offered to conduct an interview, which Marie graciously declined.

By the end of that conversation, the pair were mostly all talked out, and just wanted to go back home to check on Henry. There were still a few people they had to talk to, but for now, they set their sights back home. That is, until Marie put her hands on the steering wheel of her car and sighed.

“…well, we’re already out. Want to swing by Ricky’s?” She asked. Jason shrugged, checking his hair in the rearview.

“If that’s what you want, sweetheart.”

When their car pulled up to the disco, Ricky and Max were already outside. Max was enthusiastically investigating the grass next to the entrance, presumably finding a suitable place to pee. Ricky raised his arm and waved.

“Hey, guys! How’s it going?” Ricky asked as Marie and Jason exited the car and shut its doors, walking up the sidewalk.

“We’re good, man, we’re good,” Jason said as he brought Ricky in for a hug.

“How’s the big guy? I hope he’s having a good summer.” Ricky wiped a bead of sweat off his brow. They were all used to the oppressive, humid, corn-sweat heat, but that didn’t mean it wasn’t annoying still.

“Oh, Henry’s enjoying himself plenty. He’s very excited for college though.” Jason bent down and let Max sniff him. Marie politely waved to the dog before stepping to the side. He was objectively cute, a mostly golden retriever labrador mix, but Marie didn’t particularly fancy dogs. Max had known Marie long enough not to expect too many pets from her, so he wasn’t too bothered.

Ricky ran a hand through his red hair, adjusting the sweatband that held his bangs up.

“That’s great! He’s a smart kid. He’ll do well, I think. So what brings you guys by? Want to skate? The rink’s closed right now, but I can open early for some friends,” he said with a cheeky wink.

The friendly smile on Marie’s face faded a little.

“Well, we wanted to talk about …George.”

Ricky’s shoulders slumped ever so slightly.

“Aw, I’m sorry, Marie. I know how much you two cared about him. But I didn’t really know him. He seemed so nice, but I’d only met him a handful of times at practice. I remember how much he loved you, though,” Ricky said with a halfhearted chuckle, an attempt to lighten the mood that went mostly unfelt. “Always calling you ‘Bean’, making sure you felt included.”

Tears threatened to claw their way out of Marie’s stinging eyes, but she had to press forward.

“Oh, don’t worry, I don’t need any of that. What we wanted to talk about was that we’re gonna come forward about what really happened, and we need you behind us.”

“But I didn’t see what happened, I’m not a witness. You know that. I ran off before-“

Marie cut him off. “I know. But you were there for the beginning of the party. Do you remember that?”

Ricky didn’t need to answer her. She could tell just by the flash of fear in his bright blue eyes he did. He gulped.

“Yeah. I do. I remember going out to the woods. I remember seeing the Whistling Man- Teddy- in the trees. I remember seeing Jason on the ground. I remember George grabbing your hand and the two of you tearing out of there,” he recounted, his voice shaking.

“You don’t-“ Marie held her hands up between them. “You don’t need to continue. That’s more than perfect. Just backing up the fact the party was in the woods is extremely valuable to us. Thank you, Ricky.”

Max walked in a lazy circle around Ricky’s feet.

“So when are you gonna, y’know, break the story?” Ricky asked, then answered his own question. “It’s gonna be Whistling Night, isn’t it?”

Jason nodded, taking his wife’s hand.

“Most likely.”

“Ah, yeah, I thought so,” Ricky said with a sincere, toothy smile. “I think it’s a good idea, to be honest. He deserves it. It may, I don’t know, help him get some rest. I hope.”

The humid summer breeze fluttered a few strands of ink black hair into Marie’s face. Brushing them aside, she regarded Ricky one last time.

“Hopefully. Well, thank you. Seriously. We’ll be in touch soon.”

“I’ll be waiting,” Ricky answered, letting Max’s red leash hand limply from his hand.

“Bye, Ricky! Bye, Max!” Jason called out as he followed his wife to the car. The large dog barked, swishing his fluffy blonde tail from side to side.

There was a lot of kinks to work out, but at least the bulk of step one was done.

Chapter Text

Peggy stood up from her seat at Marie’s dining room table, carrying an empty breakfast plate in her arms. Well, it was breakfast in that it was breakfast time, but the contents of her plate looked a lot more like dinner. Seven-thirty in the morning was her new dinnertime.

“Are you sure you still want to do it? The new host… he’s… a bit of a handful. I know you don’t stay up to listen to the show, so I just thought I’d warn you,” she said as she put the plate in the open dishwasher. Marie sipped her dark, bitter coffee, pulling the mug away from her face to speak.

“I’m sure he’ll be fine. But it really sucks about your old host, I liked him a lot when I tuned in,” she said.

Peggy walked back around the kitchen to the table and sat down, facing her sister.

“I know, I know, but… you know this new guy got blacklisted because of stuff he said during an interview, right? Do you know how bad you have to mess up to be blacklisted as a celebrity?” A wide, Peggy-typical smile took over the bottom half of her face.

Marie smirked. “You don’t believe he deserves a second chance?”

“No, it’s not that, it’s just… this is so important to you. I want you to really be proud of what you’re doing. Even though I’m not quite sure what it is you’re trying to do,” Peggy admitted. “But it doesn’t matter.”

Marie’s dark lashes fell as she looked at the brown circle at the bottom of her mug. “We’re finally going to tell the truth. You’ll see.” She looked back up at Peggy, the solemnity suddenly gone from her voice. The morning sun streaming in from the kitchen window haloed her frizzy hair in a ring of light and hairspray. “Did you want to go over the plan again?”

Peggy shook her curls, face buried in a glass of water. “Mhm,” she hummed before setting the glass down. “My boss, Reggie, wanted to make it clear I’m not allowed to diverge from our allotted segments. That means your broadcast has to be broken up by ads and music. You’re still fine with that?”

“Yeah, we can work around that.” Marie reached behind her to the windowsill, picking up a still rolled up newspaper she’d collected when Peggy came over that morning. “We can’t really back down now.”

She unfurled the paper and flipped through it before placing the paper on the table and spinning it around for Peggy to read.

Under the News and Current Events section of the paper, a very small article under the headline ‘SPECIAL BROADCAST- TUNE IN TO 189.16 MIDNIGHT!’ took up no more than a sixteenth of the total spread.

“I’m glad old Maurice kept his promise,” Marie said, a satisfied, pleasant showing just a bit of her white teeth. “I’d be pissed if he didn’t- I did pay him for this.”

Peggy inspected the paper as her sister kept talking.

“So, here’s how it’s going to go. I’ll call up, introduce myself, all that, and explain this is gonna take a bit. When the lines open up again, hopefully some of the people I talked to will call up. If not, I’ll explain everything myself. I’ll be listening to the whole thing. So will Jason. Henry said he wants to stay up for it, but he might go to sleep. He’s been exhausted packing for college. I doubt he’ll do any sort of talking, anyway. You know how he is. Shy.”

Peggy gave a small nod. “All right. That sounds like a plan,” she said as she rose out of her chair. “Thanks for the food.”

Marie met her eyes with a smile.

“No problem, Peg. Talk to you tonight. And thanks again for tolerating this on your program.”

Peggy returned the smile. “You’re welcome, and sorry I’m not working more reasonable hours. Hopefully the folks who miss it can catch the details in the paper.”

“It’s all right,” Marie said as Peggy reached the front door, “Midnight is a perfect time. I love you, take care.”

“Take care.”

And the door shut, leaving Marie once again alone.

—————————————-

The recording booth was nothing short of disappointing. The walls were covered in sad, brownish-red peeling wallpaper, and the carpeted floor was a suspicious dark grey that seemed unintentionally dark as if covered in decades of debris and mildew. The cork cieling tiles boasted all manners of water-damage stains that resembled old coffee spills or dried, crusted blood. The couch staring down the microphone booth on the other side of the room backed up against the producer’s window had also seen better days, being coated in more dust than a dry cornfield and was now the color of a worn hiking boot, a depressingly piss-colored orangey-brownish-yellow.

But there was also something oddly comforting about it. The wood-paneled speakers on the desk sporting all manners of stickers, the shelves stocked with metal balance toys, old records and cassettes, and the warm, coffee smell in the room made it feel homey and lived-in, leaving people who used the room feeling surrounded by other people even when they were alone. It certainly took a bit of the edge off.

Forrest Nash looked over to the incredibly tacky neon colored calendar by the door, and to the equally as tacky “TODAY” rainbow sticker he was mandated by his new boss to slap on the correct date every single time he walked in the studio doors, since his shift started at midnight and the technical beginning of each new day.

Forrest himself, however, was a bit more unremarkable than the obnoxiously neon calendar. He was relatively thin, though this could be attributed to his above-average height as opposed to a lack of weight. His hair was shiny and straight, combed backwards so that the fluorescent light panels in the roof highlighted his natural grey streaks. He had an equally greying beard and mustache, a long, straight nose, and blue eyes. Despite no one but his producer being able to see him, giving him no reason to dress particularly well, he wore beige trousers and a sage green collared shirt.

He moved his eyes lazily away from the calendar and to his producer’s face from behind the glass. There was something different about the way she was fiddling with the buttons and sliders on her control panel, a stiffness in her shoulders and a shake in her wrist, that even he could notice after only a week of knowing her.

“You doing all right, Peggy? You seem a little high-energy tonight,” he asked, adjusting the angle of his microphone.

Peggy poked her head up, her short, fluffy hair bouncing off her shoulders.

“Oh- yeah- I’m fine. It’s just, there was a …change in our programming tonight.” Are you ready for the pre-flight check?”

Forrest rolled his eyes in a way that more befitted a fifteen year old boy than a nearly fifty year old man. “I don’t need an equipment check, Peggy, I’ve been working here for a week, and I’ve been in this industry for thirty years. And stop calling it a pre-flight check, it’s lame.”

Peggy cocked her head slightly in annoyance. “I call it whatever Reggie pays me to call it. And all right, suit yourself.”

Forrest mumbled something the mic didn’t pick up, but Peggy could assume. He had always been a bit snippy. Having to immediately pack up half a century’s worth of history in his beloved home city of Chicago to take a low paying job in the actual middle of nowhere wasn’t exactly a bucket list idea.

“So I take it that by ‘change in programming’, you mean we’re not doing that Guess That Scream Contest tonight?”

Peggy shook her head. “Oh no, that’s still our opener. Reggie would throw a shit fit if he heard we didn’t do it. But… things for later will be different.”

Forrest wanted to know more, but his desire for answers was outweighed by just how much he truly didn’t care about the result.

“Okay then. Are you ready to start the show?”

After a short countdown, Peggy brought the two of them live. Forrest introduced himself and the station, complete with a soundboard jingle, and introduced the contest with as much enthusiasm as he could conjure. His facade was shattered when it became clear to him that firstly, he did not have an assistant to fetch his cassettes for him, and secondly, that there was no cassette to play for the segment. He would have to swallow what little dignity he carried out here and scream into the microphone.

Reluctantly, Forrest made some sort of half assed attempt at impersonating a fall victim before clawing back his decorum to open up the phone lines while unremarkable synth music played in the background.

A few seconds into the song, Peggy jumped slightly, her hair a fraction of a second behind the rest of her.

“Forrest, a call just came in. I’m patching them through now,” she said, pressing one of the glowing buttons on her console. There was silence for a moment before Forrest spoke up,

“Good evening, caller! You’re live on 189.16- The Scream! What’s your name, and have you called in with a guess?”

“Um- my name is Marie Parker, and no, no I didn’t.”

Peggy scooted her roller chair forward an inch.

“Well, it’s nice to meet you, Marie! And that’s too bad! You’re missing out on a KFAM ceramic mug or sticker!” Forrest chided, trying to make the prizes sound at least a bit appealing.

“I’m all right, thanks. But I do have something pretty important to discuss with you, if that’s okay.”

Forrest looked through the glass at Peggy, furrowing his brown eyebrows in a ‘what the fuck?’ expression. Peggy nodded encouragingly, waving her hands to ‘get on with it’.

“Sure, Marie. Tell me, what’s on your mind?”

Her next response took a few seconds to surface, her voice level, calm, but strained, as if she was forcing herself to appear a lot more at ease than she really was.

“You’re new in town, right? Have you brushed up on the history of Gallows Creek? Because the things I want to discuss tonight are of…historical importance.”

Forrest’s response was still full of his airtime persona, but a tinge of annoyance was unshakable.

“Uh, no, I haven’t really had the time!”

Marie cleared her throat.

“Well, thirty years ago, in the late 50s, a man named Edward Marshal Mooney killed about twelve people here in town. We never learned the reason, and it’s not really relevant anyway. But the detectives eventually worked out who it was. One night, when they went to arrest him, he escaped into the forest to the east of town. They chased him out there, but lost him when he jumped off a bluff into the river. He wasn’t found. It’s a mystery ‘til this day if he lived or died. Tonight is the anniversary of his disappearance."

Forrest blinked. “Well, that’s a fascinating story, Marie. Thank you for the history lesson. Now is there anything-”

Marie cut him off. “That part of this town’s history is obviously dark, but it became even darker. People lived in fear he’d come back. The families of lost loved ones were never the same. But time went on. Children grew up into teenagers. Their minds looked back on the tragedy as an urban legend, a ghost story, a distant history. But the fear was still there. So some of them… they decided to impersonate Mooney. Wore a facsimile of his mask, his dark trenchcoat, even brandishing a lookalike of his knife. They call it ‘Whistling Night’. And the bluff Mooney jumped off became Whistling Point.”

A slight chuckle escaped Forrest’s white teeth. “I don’t doubt kids would be that stupid. Is all this right, Peggy?”

Peggy nodded before Marie’s voice came through the speakers again.

“On one of these Whistling Nights- in fact, the one that started the tradition- something bad happened. Someone died. And the whole town thinks they know the truth about how. But they don’t. That truth needs to be told, and it’s going to be told tonight.”

Forrest’s demeanor shifted. “Wait- someone died? What’s the truth? What the hell is going on, Marie?”

Marie spoke once more, her smokey voice sending an ominous chill down Forrest’s spine.

“You’ll find out soon.”

The line went dead.

Forrest leaned back in his chair, at a loss for words, before leaning back into his microphone and hurriedly addressing the audience.

“There you have it, folks, uh, apparently we can anticipate more to come from this ‘Marie’ character, so stay tuned. For now, let’s take a listen to one of Storm Riders’ best tracks, it’s a personal favorite of mine. Enjoy.”

Forrest effortlessly unsheathed a pristine white record from its sleeve and placed it down on the turntable. As soon as the needle made contact, the bright red ‘ON AIR’ sign over the producer booth blinked off and turned black.

“What the hell was that, Peggy?” Forrest demanded.

Peggy swallowed. “That… was my sister.”

Forrest’s face knit in confusion. “You never told me you had a sister.”

Peggy shrugged. “You never asked.”

Forrest’s pale hand reached up to pinch his brow.

“So, let me just- let me get this straight. Your sister has information regarding someone’s death that happened on this day some amount of time ago, and she wants to air it out live? She doesn’t want to, like, go to the police or something?”

“She wants the whole town to know,” Peggy said, scratching a nervous itch on her neck.

The man on the other side of the partition sighed dramatically. “Did you know she was gonna do this?” A tight-lipped Peggy tilted her head slightly back and forth.

“Kinda,” she said. “Just… not that it’d be about this.”

One of the overhead lights flickered slightly.

“You know what she’s talking about?” Forrest asked.

Peggy nodded. “It wasn’t just some random person that died. It was her late boyfriend, George. He drowned in the reservoir after trying to swim while drunk about two decades ago. Though I have no idea what ‘truth’ she could be talking about- it seemed like a pretty open and shut deal. At least- it did when it was explained to me a long long time ago, when I was nine.”

Forrest snickered. “Well, that’s very convincing,” he chided. “We’ll hear her out. If she's a conspiratorial nutjob, at least it will be an entertaining listen.”

“Forrest.”

“Oh, actually, since this whole thing is going on, can we call off that stupid Guess That Scream contest?”

An exasperated sigh worked its way out of the speakers.

“You know what, sure.”

The two continued talking until the song started to peter out and Forrest came back on the air.

“Hope you guys enjoyed that track. We will be opening the phones up shortly, but before we do, I just wanted to say to please hold your Guess That Scream guesses, the contest has been postponed. To no one’s disappointment,” he said, squeezing that last line in fast and in a lowered tone. “But if you have anything else to chat about tonight, or anything you want to add to Marie’s ‘Whistling Night’ discussion, feel free to get dialing.”

In the meantime, Forrest and Peggy struck up a conversation of smalltalk that would've been completely uninteresting if the two people having it weren’t trained entertainers. The conversation was short-lived, as Peggy eventually cut Forrest off with another lit-up call button.

“Welcome, caller! What’s the occasion? Not to Guess That Scream, I sure hope,” Forrest announced, crumpling up a piece of paper and chucking it across the room into a basket.

“Oh- no, no, it’s not that,” said a cheery voice with a distinctly more Northern accent.

“Thank God,” Forrest .said, maybe a little too quickly. “What’s your name?”

The voice was still upbeat, but there was a nervous crackle in it. “I’m Sandra. Sandra Sharpe. I own the dance studio southwest of you guys, I don’t know if you’ve been down that way.”

The prospect of a man of Forrest’s age being in a dance studio made him exhale out of his nose in a short burst.

“Uh- no- I can’t say I have. What’s on your mind, Sandra?”

The muffled voice grew even more timid. “Well, um, I just wanted to talk about that, um, incident that was mentioned earlier. The death.”

Peggy’s brown eyes blinked as a pit of unease opened in her stomach.

“Oh? Really?” Forrest leaned in. “If you want to share, go ahead.”

Sandra cleared her throat. “The truth is, I was the one who reported the body to the police. But I lied about where it was.”

The natural creases on Forrest’s brow deepened in concern. “Why would you do that, Sandra?”

“Because when I found him, I was intercepted on the way back. There were others out there looking for him, too. And those people… they made me lie.”

“How did they force you to lie?”

“They were going to take my studio away from me. Raise the rent and price me out of a job. Ruin my life. I just… I couldn’t let that happen.”

Forrest dragged a hand down his face, stroking his brown and grey beard. “Huh. I’m sorry you went through that, Sandra.”

“It’s me who should be sorry. I shouldn’t have let myself get scared into it. That boy deserved better.”

The line and the studio both fell silent as neither knew what to follow that up with. Forrest attempted to open his mouth, but nothing came out. Luckily, Sandra broke the silence with a spoken sigh.

“Whew! Telling the truth honestly felt pretty good! Thanks so much for your time, Forrest.”

The man was still frozen, baffled. “Uh, you’re welcome, Sandra,” he managed, an uneasy grimace trying to disguise itself as a smile working its way onto his face. “Take care now.”

“Byebye!”

The line went dead.

Forrest’s eyebrows raised while his eyelids stayed resting over his eyes. “Huh. Guess it’s real. Or, more likely, a very elaborate prank. In which case, I’m leaving. I don’t do prank segments. It’s in my contract.”

“No… I think it’s real,” Peggy said, her inner thoughts given voice. “I can’t believe I never suspected anything about George. I wish Marie told me.”

“Yeah, and I would’ve loved the heads up about…” Forrest gestured vaguely around him, “...this. But we don’t always get what we want, I guess.”

He turned back to the mic. “Folks! You heard it here. Seems like there really is more than meets the eye to this little town. Lines are still open, so feel free to drop in before we head into our next song.”

He didn’t have to wait long. After a few seconds, Peggy looked down at her console, focusing on the yellow light blinking up at her. “Ready?”

Forrest gestured with his head, careful not to flick the headphones he was wearing off his ears.

“Caller, you’re live on air. What’s going on with you tonight? Anything to say about the whole ‘Whistling Night’ discussion?” Forrest was already running out of ways to appropriately but energetically segue into this rather sensitive topic.

“Hello Forrest, Peggy. I… also wanted to talk about that night.” The voice was nervous but smooth and mature, almost maternal.

“That’s fine by us, caller. What’s your name?” Forrest asked.

“Dr. Sullivan- uh- Virginia.”

“Pleasure to have you on the show, Virginia. Go ahead whenever you’re ready. No pressure.”

There was a delicate sigh on the other end of the line.

“I… am a pathologist down at the hospital. And I was working the morning after… everything happened. I scrub in and walk into the room to find… a boy on my slab. I’d never worked on anyone that young before. But I carried on, and just as I’m finishing up… someone walks in. I don’t know how they even got down to my lab. But they did.”

Forrest cleared his throat. “Let me guess. They made you lie about how he died?”

Virginia hummed in acknowledgment.

“I don’t want to say who. But… they took my records. They made me sign an autopsy report that was just… false. Blatantly false. And they said if I talked about the truth, or about what happened… it wouldn’t end well for me. Strangely, they also promised to take care of my sister’s medical bills. She’s chronically ill, see, and the medicine was expensive for my parents and I, even more so when it became just me. I didn’t know how long I could be able to afford them on my own. So… I agreed. I’m so sorry. I know it was wrong. ”

“It’s okay, Virginia. I’m sure most of us in your situation would have done the same,” Peggy said, her voice soft and comforting. Forrest raised his eyebrows and pursed his lips in a ‘hmmm I don’t know about that’ expression. Peggy warned him to be silent with a pointed look.

“Thank you, Peggy. That… means a lot. But that doesn’t change the fact that me saying any of this has put me in danger.”

Forrest huffed. “Good point, Virginia. Seems to me like you should be working out an escape plan. But, for what it’s worth, you’ve been very brave tonight. And you should be proud.”

“Thank you, Forrest. Have a good night.”

“Goodnight, Virginia. And stay safe.”

After the phone line went dead, and a brief discussion of the plight of Dr. Virginia Sullivan, Forrest played another one of their records. Then another. Then an ad.

The ads they played on the station always had some quirk to them. The most common were generic ads for products or services, but these were always accented with some Gallows Creek weirdness. Martial arts VHS tapes preaching the benefits of acting like a tarantula, local restaurants that everyone in town already knew about advertising deals that hadn’t changed in forty years, quirky ads for the town’s Harvest Festival festivities, and political ads Peggy couldn’t stand.

Eventually, the Reggie-mandated ad segment came to an end, and Forrest opened up the floor to more callers. The air went dead for a good thirty seconds, and Peggy was just about to call it and tell him to move on to a song, when her call board lit up.

“You’re live at 189.16: The Scream!”

“Forrest Nash.”

The man’s voice was low, almost impossibly low. It had a grit to it, a grizzled quality that gave the impression this man had more than a few stories to tell.

“That’s, um, that’s me. What’s your name, and what can I do for you?” Forrest swallowed. He’d rarely been caught out by a guest before, and it never felt right when it happened.

“My name isn’t important. I wasn’t an ‘expected guest’ tonight anyways. Thought I’d take what I did to the grave. I honestly might have preferred that. But I’ve already got enough red on my ledger. I don’t need more.” Forrest met Peggy’s eyes, both of them searching for any sort of assurance.

“The truth of the matter is, I played a part in the events following that boy’s death. There’s more I could say, more I should say, but it’s time I head out. Gallows Creek needs to heal, and it needs to do it without me.”

Forrest shook his head in disbelief, trying to process what he’d heard. “I- I appreciate the honesty caller. Is there anything we can-”

“The station has a storage room. If you have any doubts about my claims, or what you’ve already heard tonight, and what you will probably continue to hear, check it. And… to the woman in the middle of all this: I’m sorry. For everything. There wasn’t a day that went by in these twenty years that I haven't thought of what I did. Goodbye.”

The familiar buzzing dial tone played its monotone melody as Forrest blinked in disbelief.

“Uh- well, that was certainly an interesting message. Thank you, mystery caller, for that, uh, suggestion. I’m just going to have a little conversation with my producer. For now, here’s another song I know you all will enjoy.”

Once the music started playing, and he made sure he was off the air, Forrest looked through the glass at his producer.

“So what the hell was that about?” he asked, almost rhetorically. “Why would any evidence be in storage here, at the studio? Did someone break in and leave it for us to broadcast?”

“I’m not sure, but you’ve gotta check it out,” Peggy urged enthusiastically.

“Me? Why don’t you do it?” He retorted. Peggy shook her head.

“Producers aren’t allowed to leave the booth unless for the bathroom. Reggie’s rules.”

Forrest rolled his eyes. “Sounds like bullshit, but what isn’t around here?”

She smirked, pushing her chair out and standing.

“Here, I’ll pass you the keys to the stairs.”

—-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
If the studio was filthy, the basement itself was a liminal abomination filled with trashbags, pallets, janitor’s equipment and empty cans. Forrest grimaced every time he had to touch a door handle.

“What the hell am I even looking for?” He asked. Coming to the bottom of a second set of stairs after the initial set he needed the key for, he found himself in a small corridor. At the end of it, he saw the service elevator the studio used to get equipment into the basement so they didn't have to carry it down the stairs. Definitely an easy spot to break in from if you could get the elevator working.

Looking to his left, and in front of the elevator shaft, Forrest saw an old brown door with a “CLOSET” label written next to it.

“Closets are storage, right?” he said, almost to himself, as he pushed open the door.

The janitor’s closet was exactly what it sounded like. Definitely not somewhere you’d keep any sort of important documents. Just as Forrest was turning to leave, a glint caught his eye. There was an odd glow coming from the slits between the cupboards. Hesitantly, Forrest grabbed one of the handles and swung the door open.

What met Forrest’s eyes was nothing short of a fever dream. Creepy mannequins and filing cabinets littered the sides of the small room of janitorial supplies and scattered paperwork. The floor was bare, and the countertops were scuffed, and the walls were stripped to their insulation, all covered in an eerie red light. What was the most baffling, and perhaps profound, was the giant corkboard on the back wall, directly across from Forrest. On the corkboard were two small pictures with a piece of paper pinned horizontally underneath them. Forrest’s eyes weren’t nearly as good as they used to be, so he walked deeper into the room to examine what they were.

The two pictures were cut-outs from what seemed to be an old school yearbook. The pictures were brownish sepia toned, but they were so faded and made with old technology that they seemed completely monochrome. One was of a girl, and one of a boy. The girl was wearing a striped collared shirt, with frizzy dark hair spilling over her shoulders and big cheeks propped up by a pleasant grin. The boy had light hair, light eyes and a crooked, but not awkward, smile. Underneath them, the paper was blank except for one phrase scrawled in black marker:

“REMEMBER WHAT YOU DID”

Forrest backed up, completely at a loss. While it wasn’t the evidence he was looking for, it was certainly weird enough to tell Peggy about. But he silently reminded himself had a job to do, and that he wasn’t down here to stare at pictures. He rifled through the papers on the desk to his left and inside the filing cabinets, finding nothing of note. Frustrated, he walked back to the cork board and squinted.

“There’s gotta be something here. This is just too weird.” His vision traced the photographs, then down to the piece of paper. It was then he noticed for the first time that there was a slight bump in the surface and a shadow under the paper that was decidedly not rectangular coming out from the opposite side to where the red light was.

He lifted the paper up to see a key dangling from its keyring, tacked in place with a clear thumbtack.

Forrest turned the key over, an oversized tag flopping down over the metal surface. The tag was stained with yellowed age, and displayed the words ‘DEEP STORAGE’ in the same handwriting as the paper.

“This has gotta be something.”

Walking back up the stairs and crossing a dim hallway to the other side of the basement, he fit the key into one of the doors he’d skipped over on his trip down to the basement. It fit in effortlessly, though the handle did squeak as he turned it to open the door.

What faced him was another set of stairs down into another, much larger, office. The bare concrete walls were sparsely decorated with posters for different band tours. Electronic parts like motherboards, wires, circuits and fans sat haphazardly stuffed in boxes on the desk and in boxes on racks against the far wall.

“Forrest?”

The noise to Forrest’s left made him whip around at a speed he didn’t know he was still capable of. His heart pounded thunder into his ears and he rubbed his neck as he pressed the button on the intercom he just then realized was there.

“Jesus Christ, Peggy, you scared the shit out of me!” He growled, He could feel his heartbeat slowly returning to normal, but the subtle shake in his hands remained.

“Sorry!” Peggy’s distorted voice replied. “I’ve been trying to get a hold of you for ages. Where were you?”

“I think I took a wrong turn somewhere, but I’m in storage now.” The thought of bringing up what he saw in the janitor’s closet struck him.

“Actually- Peggy- get this. I don’t think this was a break in. That guy we heard on the phone. I think it must’ve been our janitor. The storage closet isn’t accessible without a key, and the key was in the janitor’s office. Either that, or someone broke in from the service elevator and planted it there.”

Peggy's voice came after some silent deliberation on her end.

“That’s not possible. The elevator’s been broken for months. And those doors are mechanical, they can’t budge without power. It’s a pain in the ass.”

Forrest couldn’t help another snarky comment. “Only the best here at KFAM.”

But the situation at hand quickly caught up to him.

“Oh- I forgot to mention. The janitor’s closet. It had this secret room behind some doors disguised as storage. The way it was set up it was like a… like a shrine.”

“A shrine? To what? What the hell are you talking about?”

“On the far end, against a big wall, there was a cork board with two pictures on it and the words ‘remember what you did’ written underneath them. It was almost like whoever set up that room -the janitor- wanted to remind themselves of people they wronged..”

“Well, that does fit with what the caller said about being involved with the whole situation, and how he’s apparently sorry about it. I think I remember hearing Reggie saying his name was Clive. I just wish I’d talked to him more so I could have identified his voice. Anyway, poke around in storage. See if you can find the evidence he was talking about.”

The intercom buzzed before clicking off, signaling that Peggy had stopped her broadcast down from the producer booth. Forrest ran a hand through his hair and got to work.

At a preliminary glance, there was no paperwork in the storage room, just old tech, speakers, and other junk. But when he approached the desk, Forrest noticed a small tape on the desk next to a tape player. Written on the tape, in the same handwriting as the note in the closet, was the phrase ‘play me’. Already this far in, Forrest opened the tray, slotted the tape in, and pressed the play button.

Just as he suspected, he heard the same voice that called in earlier.

“To whoever ends up finding this, I’m probably long gone. It was my plan to leave Gallows Creek when I found out what was happening. But I couldn’t leave without at least trying to help set things right. In the deep storage room, all the way in the back, there’s an old desk. You’ll find what you’re looking for in there.”

The mechanic whirring of the players motors eased, leaving Forrest in silence. He turned around, his attention now on the door behind the desk a few short paces away. He looked at the label on the door just to check. ‘DEEP STORAGE’. Shrugging, he pushed his way in.

———————————-

Forrest emerged from the deep storage room with the autopsy tape and the rest of the paperwork in his hands. He set them on the table and walked back to the intercom.

“Peggy, are you there?”

A few seconds later, she replied.

“I’m here. Find anything?”

“Yeah, lots of stuff. The janitor -Clive- was definitely the guy on the phone. And… they were right. All of them. George’s body was moved after he died. Sandra lied about where he was. Virginia wrote and signed the false autopsy report. And Clive… he was the one that made them do it. Said he had to, or his employer, whoever that was, would, I don’t know, put out a hit on him and his family. Someone really powerful wanted George’s death to look completely self inflicted.”

Peggy hummed in contemplation. “Well, come on up, and bring the evidence. Oh- and grab the pictures in the closet, too. I want to see something.”

“Are you seriously making me go back there? To the creepy shrine room?” Forrest grumbled.

“Just humor me!”

—---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Forrest walked into the studio to hear Peggy chatting away to the audience. When she saw him come in, she waved warmly.

“And the wait is over, folks! Our hero has returned from the basement and is back to play the music you’ve been craving.”

Forrest set the stack of evidence on one of the speakers at his booth and sat down.

“That’s right, folks, the wait is over. And for being so patient, I’ve got a special treat. Prepare for your ears to be blessed,” He said as he gently placed the record on the table and brought the needle down before pressing play.

“Okay, let me see the pictures you found in the closet,” Peggy instructed, making a beckoning motion with her hands. Forrest sighed and put his hands on his knees for a moment before standing back up, grabbing the photos from off of his desk and walking them across the room to the glass that partitioned him from Peggy. Taking the two photos, one in each hand, in his palms, he pressed them against the glass divider. Peggy leaned forward across her console, squinting at the pictures before nodding solemnly.

“Yeah, that’s what I thought.”

“What do you mean?” Forrest asked, putting his hands down. Peggy shook her head.

“I can’t hear you. Go back to your microphone.”

Forrest scoffed and walked back to his booth, letting the pictures fall on top of the pile of papers.

“I said, ‘What do you mean?’” he repeated.

“The girl in that picture is my sister when she was young.”

Forrest picked up the picture of the girl again.

“Huh. She does kinda look like you, I guess. Darker hair, though,” he observed. “And the boy?”

Peggy flattened her lips for a moment before speaking. “That was George. My nephew has the same smile.”

He held up the picture.

“What a nice-looking young man. It’s awful what- hold on. You have a nephew too?”

Peggy frowned. “Uh, yeah?”

“And… George was his father?”

Peggy nodded slightly.

“How old was your sister…” Forrest trailed off, realizing how nosey he was being. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to pry or anything.”

“It’s all right,” Peggy assured him. “She must have been 18 or 19 when my nephew was born.”

“Christ, that’s pretty young. And George… this report here said he was 18 when he died. They were both just kids when it all happened.”

“Yeah, they were.” Peggy was desperate to change the subject at least a little bit. “So did you find out anything about what really happened to George?”

“Well, according to the autopsy tape, and the toxicology report, George was running from something and died by falling somewhere, knocking himself out on some rocks and drowning in a river. But he wasn’t drunk, he was stressed. Very stressed.”

Peggy’s face fell. “That poor kid.” Forrest’s expression silently agreed with her.

They waited out the rest of the song before Forrest played another of their ad segments before opening up the phone lines to the public again. The first call was some Scottish business owner calling to advertise his cheap pizza.

The second call after the break was… less appreciated.

“You’re live, caller! What do you have to say about all the action tonight?”

“What do I have to say? I say it’s a waste of every good citizen’s time!” The voice on the phone made Peggy bristle, a disgusted grimace on her face.

“Oh yeah? How come?” Forrest asked.

The caller continued. “I can’t believe a station like KFAM would let people broadcast this fake news. If my father, Theodore C. Gallows -God rest his soul- were here, he would have none of this! These prank segments have to stop! And that unstable woman who started all this, that Marie Parker, should be ashamed for causing this panic-”

“It’s not a prank Teddy, it’s all true!” Peggy snapped. “And take my sister’s name out of your mouth.”

“Well, it looks like your ‘producer’ is a little unstable, too,” Teddy sneered. “Must run in the family.”

Peggy’s eyes went wide.

“Don’t you dare speak to me like that!” she admonished.

“Don’t be rude, Teddy,” Forrest said, attempting to back Peggy up.

“I’m just saying that stuff like this, stuff that is causing panic and confusion in this community, should not be allowed on air! And I can guarantee you it won’t when I take office,” Teddy continued.

“Teddy, now is not the time to try and canvas for votes. Not without paying us for the airtime. You can go ahead and hang up, Peggy,” Forrest instructed. The line got cut.

Forrest sighed. “Is he always like that?”

Peggy scoffed. “Yup. Boy, I just wish he- Oh, someone else is calling!”

“Patch them through.”

Forrest heard the familiar click and knew to start his spiel.

“Welcome, caller! You are live.”

“Hey, Forrest! What a great job you’ve been doing tonight. I’ve been loving the show so far.”

This voice was much warmer and friendlier than Teddy’s plastic cadence.

“Thanks, caller. I really appreciate that. What’s your name?”

“My friends call me Roller Ricky! And I now consider you a friend, man!” Ricky said enthusiastically.

Forrest laughed awkwardly. “Oh, uh, thanks! What’s been going on with you tonight?”

“I’m just getting ready for the Harvest Festival tomorrow, that’s why I’m up so late. I’m doing free lessons at the rink, and I’m trying to make sure it’s all ready for everyone! Don’t want anyone to trip!”

Forrest looked up at Peggy.

“This town has a roller rink?” He asked, looking up through his eyebrows.

“Sure does!” Ricky answered for her. “It’s been my pride and joy ever since… well, that’s actually kind of what I wanted to talk to you about.”

Forrest was intrigued. “Go on,” he said as he rested his elbow on the desk.

“I only got into rollerskating because… I needed something to focus on. See, I was in a bad spot for a while. When I was in high school, I was on the football team, and early in the year the rest of the team thought it would be a good idea to throw a team party in the woods to celebrate and bond before the coming season. And then… George died at that party. I didn’t see it, thank God, but it messed me up. For a long time, I just felt like I could’ve done something to prevent it if I had been there. I’m not gonna sit here and bore you with the details, but my life got pretty grim after that. Things only really completely turned around after I got into rollerskating and bought this place. Oh, and adopted Max, of course. Where would man be without man’s best friend?”

“Aw, he has a dog!” Peggy exclaimed. “I love dogs.”

“Yeah, he’s the best dog a guy could ask for. But the good thing is, before Max, I didn’t have to go through it completely alone. I kind of left most of my old friends behind, but Marie… she was one of those good people who stuck by me. No matter how much it hurt her. So I just wanted to come on here and back her up a little bit. Show some support. And tell my side of the story. What little of it there was.”

“Well, I’m sure Marie is very thankful for your words.”

”I hope so. I hope she’s listening. If you are, Marie, I hope you know you didn’t deserve any of the shit you got. And I’m sorry I didn’t back you up back then.”

“I’m sure she is,” Peggy reassured him. “You two have a good night, Ricky.”

“Aw, the pleasure has been all mine. I’ll be listening to the rest of it, still tons of work to do. Have a good one!”

Ricky hung up after that. Peggy rested her face on her hands as Forrest put on another record.

“He seemed nice, didn’t he, Forrest?”’

“Oh, yeah, sure. Chatty, but nice. I wonder if anyone has any more details about that party thing that he was talking about. Seemed like he didn’t want to talk about anything he didn’t witness, which I guess is understandable.”

Peggy’s thin brows furrowed. “Yeah. And earlier, Marie said that the death was from a prank. Do you think the party was the prank?”

Forrest dragged a hand through his beard.

“It’s a good theory. Let’s see how this thing shakes out.”

The next call came in a few minutes later, after a certain song prompted Peggy to shoot into a longwinded diatribe about her favorite singer.

“Hello?” the caller asked.

“We can hear you loud and clear, caller. Welcome to the air. What’s your name?”

“My name’s Charles. You can just call me Chuck if you want,” said a man’s voice. It was fairly medium toned, not high pitched or baritone, but it had a shakiness to it that made him sound a lot younger than he probably was.

“Okay, then, Chuck. Have you been following the story here so far?” Forrest asked.

“Yeah, I’ve had the radio on all night working. It’s been kind of slow, not like how it’ll be tomorrow evening. You know, the Festival and all. Lots of folks are coming in.”

“I get you. So why have you decided to call?”

Chuck gulped. “Uh, I know you guys wanted to know more about that party, the one Ricky mentioned.”

Forrest’s blue eyes snapped to Peggy for just a brief moment.”Oh, sure, that’s great. What can you tell us?”

Chuck hummed nervously. “Um, first of all, Ricky was right about it being a football party. It was right after tryouts ended, so we had a few newbies on our team. Well- just one, actually.”

“George.”

“Uh-huh. And one of the guys on our team saw that the party was scheduled for the second of September, and had the idea to stage a prank in the woods behind the high school using the party as a sort of bait.”

Forrest filled in the gap. “Because it was the night of Mooney’s disappearance.”

Chuck confirmed the inference with a sort of whimper.

“Some of us decided we’d get costumes and pretend to be Mooney. I was one of them. We didn’t intend for things to get so out of hand, but poor George, he was terrified. Him and Marie. I followed her because I figured I could catch her easier. You know, she was just a girl, and I was this big strong athlete. And wouldn’t you know it, I was right. I caught her down by the riverbank. It was hilarious, seeing her so angry. But then… We both saw George, y’know, up on that bluff. And I tell you- I served in the war, I was permanently disabled by a freak Ferris Wheel accident, but none of it stuck in my mind more than seeing that kid fall and drown in front of me. ”

Forrest couldn’t manage his usual wise-cracking affect. “It sounds like you’ve been through a lot, Chuck. I’m sorry.”

There was a slight scuffing noise over the air, seeming to suggest Chuck was wiping his face near the receiver.

“No, Forrest. I’m the one who should be sorry. He was such a good kid. I didn’t know him too well, no one but Jason really did, but he was the kindest kid you could imagine. He didn’t deserve this. Marie didn’t deserve this. Their little one didn’t deserve this. It’s something that’s going to be with me ‘til I die, I’m afraid. I can’t ever make up for the suffering I caused.”

Forrest sucked his teeth before his shoulders heaved with a sigh.

“Try not to beat yourself up too much over it,” he said, swaying back and forth in his office chair. “You’ve already learned the lessons you needed to learn. No point in wallowing in all that shame.”

“I… you’re right, Forrest. Thank you,” Chuck said. “You all have a good night there.”

“The same to you.”

Forrest bit his cheek in contemplation through the hang-up tone before finding his voice again.

“So it really was all just a prank. Kids can be so fucking stupid,” he mused.

Peggy nodded.

“I don’t doubt there’s a bunch of high schoolers out on the streets right now doing the exact same shit. It happens every year. The police probably have their hands full with prank calls and terrified teens tonight. I don’t envy them. When it hit in my senior year, I stayed in. Avoided the whole mess. I had my books to keep my company anyway. ”

The mental image of Peggy’s high school senior self made him giggle. Her face cocked to the side with a deadpan expression.

”You’re such a child, Forrest.” Her affect lightened up. “Anyway, I think it’s time for another song, so- oh, no wait. There’s an incoming call. I’ll bring it through now.”

Forrest didn’t waste any time doing his usual song and dance, and Peggy expected it to be some other stranger she was too young to know. But the voice on the other end of the phone started her with its familiarity.

”Hi Forrest, Peggy. It’s a, uh, strange night tonight, isn’t it?”

Peggy beat Forrest to the mic.

“Jason?”

Forrest made eye contact from across the room. “Who?”

“My brother-in-law,” Peggy explained. “What’s going on, Jason?”

”Ah, I just wanted to call up and talk about George, if that’s all right.”

“That seems to be the topic of conversation tonight, Jason. What’s on your mind?”

“Those callers. Chuck, Ricky, my old friends. They did so well. Better than we hoped. My wife, Marie, she’s so happy with everything everyone’s done tonight, including you. But while she’s off getting ready for bed, I just wanted to come on and say a few things myself. You probably caught it earlier when Chuck mentioned it, but George was my best friend. I even convinced him to try out for the team. George… he was one of those people who was just naturally good at everything he did, especially anything athletic. So there was no surprise when he made the team. I was so happy… So when the team came up with the idea of a team party to welcome him, I was stoked. Then, the whole Whistling Man idea came up. I just don’t know what I was thinking at the time. Pranks, they’re supposed to be funny to the person being pranked. This wasn’t that.”

”What was your role in all this?” Forrest asked. By this point, he was fully invested in the 20 year old drama.

Jason’s response was slow and labored with emotion.

“We all agreed that, for some reason, it would be extra funny if I pretended to be dead. Because George and Marie knew me the best. But, the second it was actually happening, and I heard how real their fear was, it suddenly didn’t seem so funny.”

“Did you see what happened?” Peggy asked.

“No,” Jason answered solemnly. “I was laying there for a while, and then I started walking in the direction they ran. I didn’t get maybe twenty or thirty feet from where the party was before I heard Marie scream. I’d heard her scream running off scared before when I first played dead, but this was different. This wasn’t just fear, it was dread. It was grief. And I caused it. I’m part of the reason my best friend is dead. I’m a part of the reason my son has never met his biological father. And I’ve had to live with the fact that my wife’s constant night terrors are my fault. She wasn’t even supposed to be my wife.”

Tears glinted in Peggy’s golden eyes.

“Jason…”

“I’m sorry, Peggy. I ruined your sister’s life, and if things hadn’t gone this way, you two might have had more time together. It’s my fault, for going along with that stupid idea.”

This gave Forrest the chance to ask the question he’d being dying to know the answer to this whole night.

“Whose idea was it?”

Jason laughed tiredly, a shallow chuckle that concealed years of guilt and shame.

“You know, any day before this one, I wouldn’t have even given that question so much as a glance. But I’m done covering.” He took a breath. “The whole thing was Teddy Gallows Jr.’s idea.”

Peggy’s eyes grew impossibly round, and Forrest instinctively met her gaze.

“Back then, his father said it’d be super easy to blame me if I ever decided to tell the truth. He’s friends with the Sherriff, all that. I was just a kid. I was scared. But I’m not scared of him, and I’m not scared of Teddy. Not anymore. George deserves justice. We all do. I hope my and everyone else’s words accomplished that.”

“Well, you guys sure made a statement here tonight,” Forrest remarked.

“I appreciate that. I really do. Now, I don’t know about you, but I’m pretty tired. I think I’m going to head in for the night. I think my wife wants to say a few words at some point, but after that, she’ll probably be joining me.”

”That’s just fine, Jason. Have a good night.”

“Goodnight, both of you. Talk to you soon, Peggy.”

Peggy gave a wave Jason couldn’t see. “‘Night, Jason! Tell Henry Aunt Peggy said hi, if he’s still awake.”

Gentle laughter came through the speakers. “All right. Goodnight.”

Forrest gave a quick transition to their next required ad segment before addressing Peggy again, this time off air.

”So it was Teddy behind the whole thing, huh?”

Peggy shook her head, raking her manicured fingers through her curls.

”So that’s why she wouldn’t talk about it. I should’ve known. God, Poor Jason. All that guilt. I just couldn’t fathom it.”

“Yeah,” Forrest agreed, “and marrying your dead best friend’s baby momma. That’s gotta be a mindfuck.”

Peggy rolled her eyes. “Way to focus on the right thing.”

“Oh, come on, that’s a valid thing to be interested in!” He said defensively.

“And it’s none of your business. They probably found mutual comfort in each other after their loss. Once she forgave him, of course.”

“Wonder how long that took…” Forrest said under his breath.

”What was that?”

“Oh, nothing.” Forrest scratched underneath his headphones. It wasn’t too long before the ads were over, and Forrest announced that they were going to be holding their last open call for the night before playing the rest of their cue.

It wasn’t long before the call board flashed.

“Do you think it’s Marie?” Peggy asked.

”There’s only one way to find out.”

The line was connected.

“Good evening- or, by this point I should say, good morning caller! I’m Forrest Nash, and who is this?”

“Hey Forrest, Peggy,” Marie’s smoky voice greeted.

“Looks like you were right, Peggy. Good to hear back from you, Marie. I assume you’ve been listening in? How do you think we did?”

Marie’s satisfied exhale almost sounded like a breathy laugh.

“You did wonderful. Both of you. And everyone else. I couldn’t be more thankful.”

Peggy spoke next.

“Marie, I-… I just wanted to say I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay, Peg. I didn’t tell you the full story for a reason. It wasn’t anything you needed to be worrying about at that age. And, you can see now, there was some pretty dangerous stuff I wanted you to stay out of.”

“Yeah, I get that now,” Peggy admitted. “But I’m sorry you had to go through it at all. You know George would be so proud of how strong you’ve become.”

Her breathing sounded like the ocean through the phone.

”I do. I can’t claim to know where he is, or if he even ‘is’ anywhere at all anymore, but I wanted to finally do right by him. It’s nineteen years too late for justice. But late is better than never.”

“You’re right, and- oh, hang on,” Peggy interrupted herself. “There’s another call coming in.”

“I have a feeling I know who that’ll be. Patch them in, too,” Marie said, her calm melting into annoyance.

“Welcome to 189.16, the-“

Forrest barely got through the first sentence of his greeting before he was cut off.

“YOU LYING BITCH. LOOK WHAT YOU’VE DONE,” snarled Teddy.

“Oh, Teddy, give it a rest already. It’s a bad look,” Marie replied coldly. “That’s no way to treat your hosts.”

“YOU TRIED TO RUIN MY CAREER!”

“I didn’t try ruining anything. I just helped everyone you scared into hiding tell the truth. But, hey, since you’re here, want to explain yourside of the story?” Marie’s words were like steel, each razor sharp and ice cold. Peggy had never heard so much venom in her sister’s voice.

“I-“ Teddy cut himself off before restarting. “Yes, I would!”

”Fantastic,” she said dryly. “Let’s start with the question of who came up with the idea to haze George?”

Silence on the other line.

“Don’t want to answer? I can answer for you…” Marie taunted.

“It was me, okay? But that doesn’t mean anything that happened after was my fault,” Teddy hastily corrected.

“And do you want to say what, exactly, that was?”

More silence.

“The longer you spend coming up with another lie, the worse you look,” Marie warned, a sing-song tone in her voice.

”As if he could look much worse,” Forrest chided. Peggy put a finger to her lips. The banter could wait.

“It was two decades ago, Marie, you expect me to remember right away?” Teddy asked, exasperated.

Marie hummed. “Dr. Sullivan, Miss Sharpe, Chuck, Ricky, Jason and I all seemed to manage. Why, did you not consider witnessing a classmate’s death to be worth remembering or something?”

The question seemed innocent, and she certainly tried her best to ask it with an oblivious, naive tone, but it was a bear trap. He could either answer the question, and take on further blame, or plead ignorance and be known as the type of person who couldn’t give a shit about a child’s death he had a hand in causing.

Teddy took the easier route.

“Okay, Okay. Chuck, Jason and I all showed up late. Chuck hung back deeper into the woods. Then, we put our plan into motion. Jason stumbled out of the woods and played dead. I wasn’t too far behind. I think Ricky saw me first, but Peter and Kim kicked the whole thing off by causing a panic. When George and his girl took off, I followed them. “

“You chased us,” Marie hissed. “You drove us into the woods.”

”Towards Chuck, yes. Or at least, that was the plan, before George split off.”

“Why’d he do that?” Forrest asked.

“You think I know?!” Teddy barked. “He kept looking back at me as he ran. It looked like he was trying to get me to follow, if I had to guess.”

“Go on.” Marie’s voice was strained, but she was keeping herself together.

“After he split, he was originally running north, but he got… turned around, and headed east.”

Forrest looked over at the giant map of the town to his right.

”The party was behind the high school, right? I think the Sherriff’s office is north of there.”

Peggy hung her head slightly downward. “He was probably trying to run and get help. And he must’ve split off to give Marie a chance to get away.”

“He didn’t know those woods. He didn’t know where he was going. He ran up to the top of Whistling Point by mistake.”

“And what did you do?” Marie asked pointedly.

“I went up after him. And he kept going, toward the bluff. Eventually, it looked like he was about to, y’know, fall down it. So I reached out to grab him. He backed away even more, and he just… it’s not my fault he didn’t know it was a joke.”

“Actually, it was your fault. You knew he was terrified. You knew he didn’t know who you were. You knew you were wearing the mask of a man who killed twelve fucking people. But instead of, I don’t know, dropping your knife, taking off your mask, telling him who you were, you kept andvancing on him. That was the most reckless thing you could have possibly done!”

Marie had a point.

“In fact, it was so stupid, so reckless, so negligent, for months I assumed you meant to do it. There could be no other explanation. You should thank Jason for convincing me otherwise, or this conversation would be much less cordial.”

“Oh come on. If George had any brains, he would’ve realized-“

”Don’t you fucking dare!” Marie spat. “Don’t you dare.”

“Teddy, cool it,” Forrest warned. “What happened after he fell?”

“Everyone ran home. Well, except Marie. But I ran home.”

“No one helped her look for his body?” Peggy asked.

“We were all in shock. Stupid kids, you know?” Teddy said, in a desperate attempt to save face. “But when I got home, around two in the morning, my father was still awake. So I told him what happened. He told me to go to bed, and that he’d take care of it.”

“…And then he got Clive to go out and find George’s body with him, and orchestrated the cover up,” Forrest said.

“What my father did had nothing to do with me, okay?”

“I think it did,” Marie said. “You didn’t bother trying to clear any of it up after he died. You let his narrative stay because it was convenient for you. Because it would help your career. You’re no better than he was.”

“It was just one mistake. One tiny little accident. That shouldn’t get in the way of someone’s whole future, right? That’d just be unfair.”

Marie spoke in an incredibly low voice. “It got in the way of George’s future. And mine. And our baby’s.”

Teddy sputtered. “Well- I meant, like… Forrest, you understand, right? You and me, we’re the kind of people who are supposed to be destined for greatness.”

Forrest was arrogant, but he wasn’t stupid. He knew what Teddy was really implying.

“Because we’re rich, right?”

“Uh, no, not necessarily-“ Teddy stammered.

Forrest chuckled.

“Listen, Teddy, we’d all love to sit here and listen to you continue to dig your own grave, but I think we’ve all heard what we need to hear. If you don’t have any closing remarks, we’re gonna let you go, if that’s okay,” he said in his usual entertainer affect.

“This is unbelievable. If my father-“

The line went dead.

“Whoops,” Peggy said, the smile on her face giving away her true intentions. “I think I hit disconnect too early.”

Marie laughed. “We all make mistakes, Peggy.”

“Well, Marie, it’s been a pleasure talking to you tonight,” Forrest announced. “It was a real honor helping you break the story. George can certainly rest easy now knowing you set the record straight about him. ”

“Thank you both, again, for everything. I couldn’t have asked for more,” Marie’s voice answered back.

Forrest crossed his arms on his desk, relaxing into a more comfortable posture. “Before we transition over to our highly anticipated cue for the rest of the evening, is there anything else we can do for you?”

“Actually, yeah. Could I request a song?”

Forrest grinned.

“Of course. What’ll it be?”

“Long Ride Home.”

Chapter Text

September in Gallows Creek was always uniquely beautiful. The hot, corn-sweat laden weather relented into something gentler. Still warm, no doubt, but the gentle breeze carrying the occasional yellowed leaf instead of annoying bug was a welcome improvement. All the crops in the nearby area had either just been harvested or were preparing to be so. The kids were back in school, buses clamoring with kids from out of town plodding down the road every weekday morning. It was a time where it seemed like the community was at its closest. This was especially the case in the early days of September, 1988.

One year had passed since Marie Campbell’s expose. One year for the town to grapple with the truth, and adjust themselves accordingly.

Teddy didn’t win the election. The majority of citizens, whether they aligned with his politics or not, were uncomfortable with the idea of having someone so prepared to lie for his own gain, someone so untrustworthy, someone so willing to leverage their privilege to screw over citizens just trying to live their lives, represent their town. It didn’t helpTeddy’s cause that his father was posthumously outed for having ties to criminal organisations operating in cities like Chicago and Detroit. The Sheriff, Sheriff Matthews, retired, expressing his guilt and regret for letting his friendship with Mr. Gallows Sr. prevent him from processing George’s death properly, having been persuaded to wrap up the case without doing things like investigating the crime scene, which surely would have revealed tire tracks at the reservoir, footprints not matching George’s at the crime scene, and the absence of Sandra’s footprints.

Whistling Night was still Whistling Night. As much as the adults in town tried to distance themselves from the name, the kids were much less consciously minded. So the name stuck.

But one thing was different that year. In addition to the normal Harvest Festival that came around in the early days of the month, September 3rd, 1988 had also been informally designated an informal celebration of George Barrow’s short life. Being the 20th anniversary of his death, and the next anniversary after the expose, it was as good a time as any to make up for how quickly everyone was forced to move on.

It seemed like half the town was gathered in the graveyard that grey early afternoon, milling about with punch or coke from one of the little beverage tables set up near the entrance, holding pleasant conversation. Surveying the lively crowd, Marie saw many people she recognized there; some of the callers from last year’s stunt, old classmates who moved away, classmates who remained in Gallows Creek, and other adults she knew from around town. Some had even brought their children, no doubt to pound into their heads how irresponsible pulling pranks can be, and how people could get seriously hurt if no precautions were taken.

Marie had never seen so many flowers, and never in so many colors, congregated in one spot like she did at George’s grave. There were so many different bouquets, accented at their base with ornate vases or multicolored paper and smooth, shiny ribbon. They reached out into the air, petals stretching over the grey stone and obscuring most of the writing on it. On the ground before the headstone, cassette tapes, handwritten letters and other trinkets, as well as unlit candles protected by small glass candle holders, formed a sort of shrine. As she stood near the decorated headstone, Marie found herself unable to recall a moment when George’s grave had even half this amount of offerings, in all the times she visited him. Better to be 20 years late than never, she supposed.

“So this is all for him.”

The voice, coming from somewhere behind Marie, called out to the deepest reaches of her memory. She knew that voice from somewhere. She just couldn’t place it. It didn’t sound local, the accent wasn’t anything she was used to hearing around Gallows Creek. It was only when she turned around that she recognized the owner of the voice.

Marie’s eyes pooled with tears as an overjoyed smile pressed her cheeks upward.

“You came back.”

It had been so many years since she’d seen the older couple, but she could still tell it was them. The woman had the same fluffed light hair, same soft, welcoming freckled face, same wide-set frame and curves. The man’s hair was gray, but he was still slender and gaunt.

The woman’s blue eyes searched Marie’s face for a while before winding wide.

“Marie? ‘That you?” She said, so quiet it was almost a whisper.

Marie nodded, a loose tear falling down her cheek. The woman stretched her arms wide.

“C’mere, child, it’s been too long, hasn’t it,” Mrs. Barrow said through her charmingly crooked teeth. Marie didn’t need a second invitation. She closed the distance between them in seconds, throwing her arms around Mrs. Barrow’s torso and burying her face in her shoulder. After giving her a good squeeze, Marie let go and hugged the man to her right. The pressure started a mild coughing fit in Mr. Barrow, but he patted Marie’s back and squeezed her back anyway.

“You have no idea how much I missed you guys,” Marie said as she withdrew back a step or two. “I thought I’d never see you again.”

Mrs. Barrow exchanged a sad, solemn glance with her husband.

“We weren’t plannin’ on it,” she admitted. A pang of nostalgia in Marie’s heart reminded her just how good it felt to hear that accent again. “But… we reckoned… twenty years was long enough to go without a visit. He would want some company.”

Marie’s thoughts returned to George, and how much he loved his folks. How she’d always see them laughing and joking before church, how every meal at their house ended in them singing folk songs or playing games she didn’t know the rules to, but was never left out. How he loved to hear them tell stories of their own lives growing up in the hollers they were from, and all the trouble they’d gotten themselves into. Her smile faded.

“I’m so sorry about your son. I can’t imagine what it’s like to have to bury your child,” she said. Mr. Barrow sighed, his yellowed eyes pointed towards the grass for a moment before he spoke.

“It’s not somethin’ you can ever git over, that’s for certain. And we should’ve taken him back with us. It’s somethin’ I regret every day.”

“I can’t believe he’s been gone twenny years. Sometimes it feels like yesterday,” Mrs. Barrow added. “Having all of his things is nice and all, but it won’t ever come close to the feeling of a big warm hug. Or hearing his voice.”

Marie nodded, fully familiar with the feeling. “I get what you mean,” she said. “Nothing’s as good as having him back.”

Mrs. Barrow cleared her throat. “But… how have you been? Everything turn out okay for you?”

Marie laughed breathily, still choked with emotion. “There’s been ups and downs, y’know…” she said, looking off past their shoulders and into the distance. Suddenly, something she saw gave her life again. She looked back at the couple.

“Oh- I just realized. You guys haven’t met him yet, have you?”

The couple looked confused.

“Pardon?”

Marie tilted to the side so her face was visible to anyone behind the couple.

“Henry! Come here for a second, honey.”

Henry, who was a few yards away talking to some of his friends from high school, dutifully ended his conversation and trotted over to his mother.

“This is my son, Henry,” she said, as Henry dutifully extended his hand and shook the older man’s hand. He had just reached for Mrs. Barrow’s hand and clasped around her warm palm before Marie said “Henry, these are your grandparents.”

The revelation froze them both still.

Mrs. Barrow’s eyes, keen for her age, searched Henry’s face desperately. It wasn’t until Henry’s polite smile grew a little wider that she let go of his hand and pulled him to her faster than he could process. Her frame shook as she wept joyfully into his chest.

Mr. Barrow looked to Henry, then back to Marie.

“He’s… he’s not Georgie’s, is he?” He asked incredulously.

Marie nodded. “If I had known back then, I would’ve told you before you guys left town. But it was just too early to tell.”

Mrs. Barrow squeezed Henry’s arms to his sides even tighter. He turned his head over his shoulder, making silent side-eye contact with his mother, unsure what else he was supposed to do.

“Would you ease up, honey? The boy can barely breathe,” Mr. Barrow said before wheezing out another cough.

Mrs. Barrow loosed her arms from Henry’s sides and took a step back, drawing the heel of one of her plump hands over her eyes.

“Sorry, sorry, I just…” she sniffled, eyes and nose flushed. “Sorry.”

Marie smiled, her eyebrows drawn up from the tender sweetness. “It’s okay, he’s fine.”

Mrs. Barrow sniffled again before looking at Henry’s face again. “I just can’t believe it,” she breathed, a tremble in her voice. “My baby’s baby. I can see him in your face. I really can.”

Henry continued to smile awkwardly. “Uh, I’m glad, I guess.”

Mr. Barrow’s chest and shoulders fluttered. “I’ll bet if you put on an accent, you’d sound like him, too.”

It had been too long for Marie to know if that was true.

“So how did bringing him up go? You didn’t do it on your own, did you?” Mrs. Barrow asked.

Marie shook her head. “No, I didn’t. I almost had to- my parents showed me the door pretty early on- but Jason stepped in to help take care of us. We’re married now. He’s been Henry’s dad since the beginning.”

The Barrows exchanged glances. It was difficult for them to parse through each of the different feelings the revelation brought up, but they eventually settled on relief.

“Jason was a wonderful young man. I’m not surprised he took care of you,” Mrs. Barrow finally added. Marie silently agreed.

“He’s around here somewhere. I’m sure he’d love to see you again.”

Just as she finished her sentence, she could see Jason coming up the pathway.

“Ah. Here he is,” she said with a giggle as she waved him over. “Look who it is, honey.”

Jason approached the group but stopped short when the older couple turned around. His mouth fell slightly agape as he scrambled to figure out what it was he wanted to say.

“Mr. and Mrs. Barrow-“ was what finally came out.

Mrs. Barrow beamed. “Aw, Jason. You look so grown up now. It’s good to see you again,” she said, pulling him into a hug.

When he was released, Jason was left with the sinking realization that the two people in front of him were the two people hurt deepest by his mistakes, discounting George and Marie. His internal excitement withered into guilt.

“It’s good to see you, too.”

He chewed the corner of his mouth.

“Hey, listen, uh… I don’t know if you heard, but the truth about George came out. Everyone knows he didn’t go swimming drunk now,” Jason said, a watery shine on his eyes.

The look the couple gave him signaled that they didn’t in fact know. The guilt festered like an open sore.

“Well, what happened to him?” Mr. Barrow asked.

Jason found eye contact unbearable. The revelation George’s parents spent twenty years with no idea what happened to their son, their only option of narrative being a slanderous lie, was a prospect he had barely considered.

“The truth is,” he started, “it was kind of my fault. Me and the other guys on the team wanted to pull a prank on him. We pretended to… well, none of that really matters anymore. But we scared him. He fell to his death and drowned trying to get away from the kid that chased him. I didn’t mean to hurt him. None of us did. But if it wasn’t for that prank, if I hadn’t agreed to it, he would still be alive. There’s really nothing else I could say that would convey how sorry I am. I just wish I had the courage to tell you back then.”

The Barrows stood stock still, their faces wound up in confusion and despair. Mrs. Barrow shuddered, putting her hands across her body in a psueudo-self hug. Mr. Barrow’s brow sank low, and Jason braced for the worst.

“It was the Gallows kid that chased him, wasn’t it?” Mr. Barrow growled.

Jason and Marie affirmed their suspicions.

“Yeah. It was. And his parents blackmailed all the witnesses, including me, into staying quiet. But it could’ve been any one of us. It was a really bad idea,” Jason admitted. “Honestly, it doesn’t even really matter who exactly did it.”

Marie put her hand on Jason’s shoulder and gave him a knowing glance.

“Well, that’s true, I guess, but it was him this time, and he didn’t have the integrity to come clean about it back then. And the blackmail… Son of a bitch. I knew the Gallowses had something to do with it. It was the only way to explain why they wanted us out of town so bad. Damn it. We should’ve stayed. We should’ve…” Mr. Barrow muttered, raising his hands and gesturing, trying to somehow draw his thoughts out of his mouth.

“Now, John,” Mrs. Barrow said gently as she took her husband’s hand and brought it down again. “What could we have done? We were outsiders. We didn’t have much. Even if we knew back then, what could we have really done? They kept everyone else silent for so long.” She turned to Jason. “Jason, honey. I appreciate you telling us and taking responsibility. That’s a very brave thing to do. And…” A tear prepared to escape her lashes. “Thank you for taking care of this boy for him. He weren’t your responsibility but you took care of him anyway because you believed it was the right thing to do. George made a good choice when he chose you as his best friend.”

Jason sniffed, the stinging around his eyes becoming too great to ignore. He shut his eyes and hugged the older woman again. She clung to him for a moment before looking over his arm to Marie and Henry and beckoning them close.

Marie gestured to her son, winking with a cheeky smirk. He shrugged before putting his arms around his dad and Mrs. Barrow before Marie put hers around the three of them. Mr. Barrow patted his wife’s back and put his other hand on Henry’s shoulder.

“You know what?” Mr. Barrow said, breaking the silence. “I think we all deserve some fun after all this. I say we all head over to the festival. What about y’all?”

The group gradually let go of each other and stepped back.

“I think that’s a great idea,” Marie agreed, fluffing up her hair with her long fingernails. “We should pay Ricky and Max a visit at the rink, too. Oh, and I think Chuck said he’d be helping out with one of the stalls. I hope it’s next to Peggy’s booth.”

Mrs. Barrow beamed. “Oh, that’s right. I bet your sister’s really grown up, too.”

Marie chuckled. “She’s as energetic as she was when she was nine. But she’s a great woman, too.”

“What are you looking forward to most this year, Ma?” Henry asked.

Marie thought for a moment, squinting her eyes in concentration before affirming her answer. “I can’t wait to kick your dad’s ass in cornhole. Last year was a fluke and he knows it.”

Jason raised an eyebrow at her. “My three-zero wins were just a fluke? A likely story.”

Marie tilted her head back and forth, humming. “Whoever wins has to buy everyone elephant ears.”

“That’s not really a good wager because it’s coming out of my paycheck either way, but you’re on.”

The two shook hands as the group erupted into laughter and walked off in the direction of the cemetery’s entrance. As they got further away, the flowers wreathing the grave seemed to open just that little bit wider, bathed in a patch of bright sunlight uncommon in this time of the year and this part of the world.

THE END