The two older guys approached the window, one of them with a twenty-four pack of beer that looked badly weathered, as if it had sat out in the rain for a month. It was the other that went to the window to pay.

With the settlement being so off the beaten track, the only way to get in and out was to either have a working vehicle or to pay someone to make the drive. Rain was pretty sure that his comings and goings were being reported to people higher up the food chain.

He didn’t have alternatives, not unless Erin gave him a ride.

He kept his head down and made the walk along the side of the road. Here and there, the packed dirt was loose, not held together by weeds or grass, and his footing slipped. It made the walk a trudge.

It was late, and houses were lit by candle and lamps. Across the field, a tall bonfire blazed. The two guys with the beer were making their way there, climbing over a fence to take the shortest path possible. Were Rain to visit, he’d see people like Jay. Old enough to mess around and get into trouble, but not yet married. There had been a time when he’d wanted to be one of the older boys at those little parties.

Were he to visit, he’d be grudgingly welcomed. He’d be expected to laugh at the jokes, to agree with the things said, to play along. He would be expected to take the ribbing and jokes at his expense, and there would be a lot. He would be expected to keep to the unspoken contract. Adults let those kinds of gatherings happen because the people who attended played along. They didn’t complain too much when it came time to do something with or for the sake of the community. The tribe. The gang.

Rain walked, well aware he’d let the day, afternoon and early evening slip away from him. He’d left the others and caught a train, and he’d been unable to bring himself to come back here. ‘Home’.

Jittery nervousness had transformed into a dull feeling of dread. That dread leeched into and through him like a poison, as if his realization about his high chance of dying had transformed into something that made him feel like he was being eaten alive, being killed by the dread.

He would have thrown up, if he weren’t so tense that he wasn’t sure he could bend over and bring himself to.

He pushed himself forward. Erin’s house was the next one, and there was light in the window. He trudged onward, the earth at the side of the road giving way beneath his feet, as he sank in, pulled himself up and forward, then sank again in a few steps later.