***So far, Miranda Jessup Buckley has been jilted, fired, a child has been left in her care and that was just in the first day.  

 

She is helping her neighbor, Aaron retrieve his truck and runs into Missy Toblerone.  She doesn't care for Missy but has to behave with Waylon around.  It may take every bit of her resolve to do it.  ***

 

 

 

I look up to see Missy making a beeline for me.  She has that damn fake smile plastered on her face and I wonder what face I'm making.  I'm not smiling, I can guarantee you that. 

 

"Well, isn't this something?  Twice in one week."  She turns to look at Aaron.  "I didn't know you knew Miranda."

 

"Yeah, we hang out," Aaron says.

 

"We're  neighbors," I correct him.  

 

Missy crinkled her nose.  "So, you live in that cute little trailer park just outside of Patterson Proper.  Well, it's a small world."

 

I look away and bite my tongue because all I can think is this: It ain't that small, no one can seem to locate your missing husband.  I glance down to see Waylon looking at me.  He's watching me to see what I'm going to do.  

 

"Who is this handsome young guy?" 

 

"This is Waylon, Dougie's boy."

 

"I'm a little confused because I thought Dougie left town."

 

"He did," I say.  "He's going to come get him once he finds a place in Myrtle Beach."  My voice sounds hollow even to my own ears.

 

Missy does this little laugh-cough thing.  

 

"Were you going to say something, Missy?"

 

She looks from me to Waylon and then back to me.  "No offense, but I just never ever thought of you as the mothering type.  I mean, no offense."

 

Shes trying to bait me and I know she wants a reaction.   Instead of getting mad I shrug my shoulders and laugh right along with her.  "I'm just as surprised as you, Missy.  I mean, I couldn't be more surprised if your missing husband walked up behind you right now."

 

Missy did this little involuntary shudder when I said that.  "Well, Waylon, it's nice to meet you.  I know your daddy from way back.  He was real handsome.  You must look like your momma."

 

"Is your husband's case still open?"

 

To my great pleasure, Missy finally loses her smile. "Jesus, Miranda, I don't know.  Why don't you go to the police and ask them.   You seem quite interested."

 

Guilty.  Guilty.  Guilty.  Even if, and it's a big if, she didn't kill him, she doesn't give two shits if anyone is still looking for him.  Which means, she doesn't care if he's found.  And if she doesn't care, it means she doesn't love him.  And that just sucks.  

 

"Maybe I will, Missy."

 

Aaron takes a step in between us. "Okay, well, we need to get going.  Waylon has a science project and we have to stop by Haynes Pond."

 

"Ew.  Why would you want to go there?"

 

"My Marine Biology class is having us get water samples from around the county," Waylon says.

 

"Why don't you get water from the beach?  Haynes Pond is filthy."

 

"Miranda said its full of used condoms," he says looking at me and grinning.

 

"Well, she would know."  She doesn't wait for my reaction or response.  Just turns away and walks back towards that huge house of hers.

 

"What a bitch," Waylon mutters.

 

It wasn't necessarily in my defense but my heart opened up to him just a little bit.  We had a common interest now.  We both had the same opinion of Missy Toblerone.

 

Aaron turned to me.  "I swear I didn't know she was going to come out and say anything to you.  She just wanted me to let her know when I was coming to pick up my truck."

 

"Ugh.  It's fine.  Let's just get the water from Haynes Pond and get home.  I have to go back to work on Monday so I gotta get some stuff done." 

 

 

I follow Aaron and Waylon and pull down the dirt road behind them.  They used to throw parties down here. I had been to plenty.  It was pretty overgrown now.  I guess today's teenagers are a bit more sophisticated than we were.

 

I hop out of the truck and follow Waylon as he goes to the waters edge.  The bank is muddy and it stinks.  

 

"Hey, Miranda, did I ever tell you that my granddad used to be a bootleggers during prohibition?" Aaron is staring at the water.

 

"No.  I've never heard that story. "

 

Waylon pulls his shoes off and takes a step into the muddy water.  "What's a bootlegger?" he asks. 

 

"A bootlegger is someone who smuggles liquor and beer into places where it's illegal.  A long time ago there was a law that was passed making it illegal to drink liquor."

 

"That's a stupid law," Waylon says.  He's about knee deep and bends down to scoop some water into the bottle. "That should do it."

 

Aaron points to a thicket of live oaks and Virginia Creeper and nods. " My granddad said that the people who owned this land back then, were sympathizers to the bootleggers.  They'd let them cut through their property.  Even built a bridge to bypass the main road."

 

"Aaron, there's no bridge anywhere around here."  I hate to call him out but I don't want him to get too carried away with his story.

 

"No, not now.  But it was here.  Granddad said that it was just a little wooden bridge just a few inches higher than the water level.  If you didn't know it was there you'd drive right on by.  They didn't drive with their headlights on when they were running booze so even if the federal agents were watching them they would just disappear in the bushes."

 

"So, what happened to the bridge?"

 

"The federals came out one night and cut through the supports.  Two men died that night.  Their cars went into the pond when the bridge collapsed."

 

"Shit, the water is only about four foot.  You telling me that they couldn't roll down their windows and climb out?"  Now I know he's going too far.

 

"Miranda, it's four feet deep here.  Back over there it's close to twenty feet deep.  My granddad's younger brother was one of those who died. I'm not making this up.  He cried everytime he talked about it."

 

Now I feel bad.  "Sorry. I just never heard any of this."

 

Waylon walks over to where we're standing. "So, did they get the cars out?"  

 

"According to granddad, there are two cars loaded with hooch at the bottom of the pond."

 

Waylon's eyes light up.  "We should go down there."

 

Aaron looks over at me and winks.

 

"Maybe."

 

"And on that note, we need to get back home."

 

"Come on, can't we just swim around a little.  You know, in case we can see anything?"

 

I can't just say no.  I don't want to be the buzz kill so I hope Aaron can pick up on my subtle hints.  Of course, Aaron is about as mature as a thirteen year old.  He is pulling his shoes and socks off as fast as he can.

 

"Are you kidding me?" 

 

And there you have it.  One minute I'm hearing a local legend and the next minute I'm watching two idiots wading out into the dirtiest body of water in Patterson County.  I just hope they can swim because I'm not diving in there to save them.

 

To be continued ...