Chapter 26

Back at home, Zeke changed into a pair of jeans and a grey University of Texas t-shirt. He slipped on socks and his white Nikes and jogged downstairs. As he descended the stairs, the sunlight dimmed. The spring storm was moving in fast. Clifford had seemed very concerned. A chill rushed over his skin, raising goosebumps, so he made a pot of coffee. The machine sputtered and hissed, while he ran back upstairs and grabbed a hoody. The aroma of coffee filled the house. He smiled.

He waited anxiously for the coffee to finish dripping, the urge to tell someone what had happened grew as he waited. At last, the machine moaned its final sigh. He filled a travel cup, snapped on the plastic lid, deactivated the security system, and stepped outside.

The clouds were growing darker but he had a mission. He briskly walked toward the wishing well and the two people he wanted to talk to the most.

In the distance, the low rumble rolled toward him. The sound carried across the hilltops in a more powerful way than in the flat lands of central Texas. The grey clouds thickened and billowed into darker, swollen mounds. He hurried across the familiar path.

“Rosa,” he called. “Otto.” He peered into the opaque mist at the foot of the white and black tree trunks. “Rosa Lehman. Otto Hoffman.”

A small raindrop splashed across his eyelash. He blinked quickly to clear his vision.

“Rosa,” he called more softly. Disappointment washed over him. He wanted to tell Rosa about Jesus and his mother’s letter. Something nagged at his mind about Hoffman. He wanted to talk to him, too. But he didn’t know why. Another raindrop hit his head and rolled down behind his ear. He shivered and stared at the woods. Where were they? Had they already crossed over? Maybe the job was done. Maybe—

“Zeke. What are you doing here?” Rosa’s strained voice suddenly resounded from the woods.

He spun around.

She stood next to the well.

“Rosa. I have so much to tell you.”

“Zeke it’s not safe! Go back to the house.”

Thunder tumbled across the sky. Rosa looked up. Fear and lightning flashed in her face. Her eyes darted back to Zeke. “Go home, Zeke.”

He smiled and held out a palm to catch the drops. “Why? It’s just rain.”

“No, it’s not—”

“What are you doing here, boy?” Otto’s baritone bellowed from the trees.

“Otto.”

Otto’s familiar frame unfolded from the mist as he stepped out into the clearing. “Ain’t ya got the sense God gave a—”

“Otto!” Zeke’s eyes met Otto’s and he knew why he had the urging to talk to him. “I want to help you and Rosa move on to the other side.”

“Hell if you do, boy.” The man’s face twisted as if he smelled something disgusting. His foot pounded the dampening earth as he moved toward Zeke. Wet musk of displaced leaves filled the air.

Zeke straightened and squared his shoulders. Another wave of thunder rolled over them. Dark grey spots began to cover his sweat jacket.

“Look, I know what you did,” Zeke said. The strength in his voice surprised him.

“Do you now?” Otto spat and squinted against the rain.

“Yeah. I saw it ... in a vision.”

Otto threw his head back and howled a condescending laugh.

“I know what happened. I don’t know why you did it, but I know you killed Paul Two-Rivers.”

Otto stopped laughing. He glared at Zeke.

“I know why you’re bound to this well. You and Rosa.”

The tall man glanced at Rosa. The pelting rain poured down his face, as he pounded another step toward Zeke.

Zeke didn’t move. He struggled to breathe normally. He didn’t want to show fear, even if this was a ghost. “I want to help you.”

Otto stopped. “Help me? How’re you going to help me?”

“You don’t have to ... suffer because of what you did,” Zeke spoke carefully.

The thunder rumbled in the distance, slowly moving toward the wishing well clearing. It became louder as it tumbled across the sky. The clouds grew dark as the outstretched fingers of sunlight waned.