The Last of Us

4 | Nothing and Everything Changes

The chances of dying in a tornado were 1 in 60,000. I read that statistic in tenth grade; I don't recall where, but it stuck. Cindy was now the hypothetical 1, in a town of less than 500; a sacrificial lamb ensuring our good favor when spring merged into the sweltering heat of summer.

With the town clean-up underway, word about Cindy traveled fast. We were all committed to stripping the debris from our yards, but we proceeded with a knot in our stomachs. The entire town playing the same game of Russian roulette; someone might discover Cindy, and nobody wanted it to be them.

Further up the road, a scavenger from the salvage yard dug through a community refuse pile for the reusable and resellable. The water tower, notable for the painted slogan 'Go Paradise Wolves,' now tilted like our own mini Pisa, half a world away, on the wrong side of the planet.

Standing straighter, I leaned on the shovel; sweat beaded across my forehead. Everyone was doing the same thing except the tiny three-bed abode across the street. I never came across a worse-looking house. The picket fence that represented the Ackerman's property boundaries sat askew; that wasn't Derek; it had always done that. The grass in the front yard was knee-high, and any flowers were long dead.

A cobalt-Blue Rock-rider Mountain bike skidded up, snapping me from my thoughts, dropping to the ground with a thud.

Simon glared at me. "You've ignored my texts."

"I already heard Penny Ackerman phone this morning. What do you think happened? Mom says it's weird the Police department isn't investigating."

"Any number of things could have happened. Plus, accidental deaths don't get investigated, just like those college kids from upstate, who get drunk on a bar crawl, go to take a piss in the river, and end up falling in."

"They figure she could be dead?" I repeated his sentiment. Everything surrounding her disappearance was odd.

Simon sighed and kicked a rock embedded in the dirt. "I overheard my Dad saying there was a high probability she got into trouble on the way back from school, courtesy of 'Derek.' But let's face it, we've all heard the rumors, right? Cindy's a free spirit of sorts."

"Yeah, so I've been told." I nodded. "But you don't think the rumors are true?"

"That's not my place to say." He shrugged. "I don't think we ever spoke more than two words to each other."

The Ackerman's screen door burst open; Penny appeared, balancing a flame-haired child on each hip. She strapped them into car seats, went to the driver's side of the estate, and climbed in.

Simon and I froze mid-stare.

Penny seemed older somehow, not an ounce of make-up. She sat momentarily with her hands clenched around the steering wheel.

The Cherry scented air freshener that hung from the visor rocked back and forth as the toddlers bounced in their car seats. Penny's attention seemed fixated on something else in the distance, but, at the same time, she was not seeing anything at all. Her eyes snapped to me, and her expression changed. Was she waiting for the now customary "Did Cindy turn up?" Not understanding what someone says in a situation like this was awkward, so I smiled at the poor woman and turned back to Simon.

"Wanna get out of here and grab snacks?" Simon asked.

"Sure," I replied, not listening. Penny's glare still burned a hole in my back; I was sure of it. When the engine started, I breathed a sigh of relief.

We cut through the cornfield. Simon pushed his bike as I strode behind. The coarse leaves fanned out and snitched against the fabric of my shirt. Glancing at my watch, it was a quarter after four, and the sun-kissed low on the horizon. Most of the town was out and about. Still, there was an air of apathy where Cindy's disappearance was concerned, a residual effect I suspected was attributed to Zachary 'boots-in-a-tree' Evans.