Boone

Hailey’s stomach dropped as she read the green sign on the side of the road.

Welcome to Clearmont, Wyoming. Population—142

This was going to be even worse than she’d imagined. She felt like the star of a cheesy, B-rated drama… Opening scene reveals lonely stretch of road. Cue car. Camera focuses on sad girl in passenger seat. Cue depressing music.

“I’m a cliché,” she mumbled.

“What was that, honey?” Her mom glanced over from the driver’s seat, a hopeful expression on her too-lean face. The weight loss from everything that had happened over the last six months was evident in her hollow cheeks. The gray hairs at her temples were new, too.

“Nothing, Mom.” Hailey turned back to the window. Fields overflowing with gray-green sagebrush flew past. In the distance, she spotted a line of square business buildings. Behind them quaint, one-story homes nestled together in a miniature oasis of leafy trees and green lawn.

As they entered the pebble-sized town, the GPS directed them to turn onto an unpaved road leading away from the cluster. The car’s tires spun gravel into the wheel wells as the vehicle bumped over railroad tracks. Each clunk of stone on metal was like a mini grenade erupting in her mind, eroding the thin control she had over her emotions.

“There it is. The very first one,” her mother said. “What do you think?”

Stark white with black shutters, the house on the corner resembled something from a 1950s horror show. “Perfect,” she grumbled. At her mother’s stricken look, she summoned a small smile. “It looks like it could use a few more people, Mom. Maybe even people like us.”

The creases on her mom’s forehead smoothed. “Good!” She smacked the steering wheel. “I wholeheartedly agree.” She turned their small four-door sedan into the unpaved driveway.

A rustle in the back seat drew Hailey’s attention from the lonely house. Her little sister had woken up. “I have to go to the bathroom,” Sarah cried, her words slurring with grogginess.

“Just in time!” Her mom turned off the ignition and stepped out. Rounding the car, she opened the rear door and unbuckled the cranky six-year-old. She lifted Sarah into her slim arms. “Come on, sweet girl. Let’s visit the bathroom. Hailey,” she called over her shoulder, “grab those bags, will you? The movers will be here any minute.”

Hailey watched them hurry into the clapboard house. Like everything else she had seen, the house was surrounded by dull, patchy grass and dust. A screened porch encompassed one side, shadowed by a large tree. The porch opened to an unfenced, decent-sized yard that extended all the way to the corner road. Whoever had resided here before them hadn’t done much yard work, because dead branches lay all over the place. And small rocks. And dust.

She felt the familiar hot rush that came just before an onslaught of free-flowing tears. Swallowing, she forced down the sob threatening to burst free. It would do no good to cry. She’d already spilled a million tears, but it hadn’t changed anything. The lush green mountains and crystal-clear streams of her old home were in the past.

“Hailey, you coming in?” her mom called through an open window.

“Yeah.” She sniffled and brushed back an errant honey-brown curl that had pulled free from her braid, then forced herself to move. Hefting the suitcases, she entered a small kitchen with a blue-and-yellow linoleum floor.

“See? It’s not so bad.” Her mother sidled up to her and put an arm around her shoulders. “They turned on the electricity, just like they promised. And look…” With a quick squeeze, she released her gentle hold and opened the refrigerator door. A brown paper bag filled with groceries sat on the bottom shelf, a yellow sticky note attached. She pulled the note off and handed it to Hailey.

“Welcome to Clearmont. We’re so glad you’re here,” Hailey read. She stuck the note on the cheap laminate counter. “Well, at least somebody’s happy we’re here.”

Her mother’s face fell and Hailey felt guilty for the sarcastic response. “I’m sorry, Mom. I didn’t mean to—”

“Hailey! Hailey!” Sarah galloped into the kitchen, happier now that she was out of the car. She clutched a package of fruit snacks in her hand. “Come see our rooms.”

Hailey held up a hand. “Hold on a sec, Sarah.” She hesitated, trying to think of how she could backtrack. “Mom…really, I—”

“I know, honey. You didn’t mean to get upset. I don’t blame you. Heaven knows it’s not what we’re used to, but with a little love and some pretty curtains, we can certainly make it a home.”

Hailey looked around at the stark white walls. It wasn’t what they were used to. In Portland, they’d had so much more of everything. Now it was all gone. Taking a deep breath, she threw back her shoulders. She would get through this. She had to, for her mother’s sake if not for her own.

“The school promised me a house with three bedrooms, and they delivered,” said her mom. “They’re smaller than what we had, but that’s okay. Why don’t you and Sarah take a look? You two can duke it out and I’ll take whatever’s left.” She smiled, but Hailey could tell it was forced. And the brightness in her mother’s eyes was clearly the sheen of suppressed tears.

Not for the first time, Hailey felt older than sixteen.

A loud honk sounded outside, making them both jump. Her mom gave her a push. “That’ll be the movers. Go pick your room so they know where to put your bed.”

Thirty minutes later Hailey was staring into a large box containing her bedding set. Naturally, the mattress protector was stuffed at the very bottom of the box.

“Momma called the doctor, and the doctor said!”

With a sigh, she turned up the volume of her music to drown out Sarah’s enthusiastic singing. The kid was bouncing on the mattress like a ball in a ping-pong game.

“No more monkeys jumping on the bed!” Her sister catapulted from the mattress, knocking Hailey forward into the box and spilling its contents. “Oops. Sorry.”

“Sarah,” she growled, tugging off her earbuds. But the girl was already climbing back up.

“Five little monkeys jumping on the bed!”

Hailey pushed herself up and walked out of the room. Her mother stood at the entrance to Sarah’s bedroom next door. She was pointing at something inside. “Right there. It goes right there,” she was saying.

“Mom—”

Her mother looked over at her and opened her mouth, but two men in blue uniforms walked between them, lugging a bedframe.

“Mom,” she said again once they’d passed. She lifted her eyebrows and gestured into her own room, where Sarah’s singing voice reached record-setting heights.

Her mom gave a wan smile. “They’re almost done in here, then you can kick her out.”

“She’s driving me crazy.” Hailey gritted out the words so Sarah wouldn’t hear.

“Soon.”

Her shoulders dropped. The movers passed by again.

“You can manage.” Her mother stepped away, toward the porch. The door to the kitchen was too small for some of their furniture, so the truck was unloading at the opposite end of the house.

“Hailey!” Sarah shouted.

Sighing, Hailey turned back toward the room.

Tap tap tap. Somewhere beyond the din of Sarah’s high voice, the creaking mattress springs and the movers’ chatter, she heard the knock at the kitchen door.

“Just a second, Sarah.” Tugging on her wrinkled T-shirt, Hailey walked into the kitchen and opened the door.

“Hey! You Hailey?” Two girls stood there. One was fairly short, with reddish hair and petite, pixie-like features, a pie in her hand. The other was taller, with dark hair and a long nose. Both looked about her age. It was the pixie who had spoken.

“Yeah.”

“I’m Jenna,” said the redhead. “And this is Karly.” A wide grin split her face. “We’re the Welcome Wagon.”

“Um…thanks?” Welcome Wagon? “How do you know my name?” Hailey couldn’t help but squirm a little. Maybe it was the dusty old T-shirt and cut-offs she wore. Or maybe her hair, which looked like it hadn’t seen a brush in weeks. Whatever it was, an awkward tension filled the air.

The brunette chuckled. “In a town this size, you know everything about everyone. Trust me, there are no secrets. We knew who you were five minutes after your mom was interviewed for the job. Unless your mom isn’t Ruth Johnston?” she teased.

“Karly’s dad is the principal,” Jenna added. She lifted the pie. “Anyway. My mom made this. She didn’t want you to worry about going into Buffalo for food.”

Buffalo was a half hour’s drive away. Hailey’s mouth dropped open. “There’s no grocery store here?”

“Or gas station, so make sure you fill up whenever you leave town.”

Dazed, Hailey accepted the dessert. The heavy weight was warm in her hands, distracting her from her shock. She took a whiff. Apple? Her stomach growled.

Jenna nodded toward the living room. “You guys need help?”

Hailey’s awkward shell softened. These two were okay. Maybe they’d even be friends. She smiled. “We’re fine. The movers are taking care of everything. But thanks anyway.”

“Sure. Everyone is excited to finally have a music teacher. The last one got sick and had to quit two years ago.”

“Wow. That’s a long time to go without a teacher.” Her mother wasn’t just a new music teacher, she was the only music teacher. For all grades.

“Yeah, we’ve all been forced to take shop class as our elective. It’ll be nice to have another option.”

“Shop class? As in auto shop?” Hailey had a vision of crawling under a rusted-out pickup to fix…whatever it was people fixed under trucks.

Jenna grinned. “You’ll see.”

“Um, okay. Well, thanks for the pie.”

Jenna shrugged and she and Karly stepped back from the door. “See you at school,” she said with a wave.

“Yeah, see you Monday.”

The two walked to a little blue car parked next to her mom’s sedan. Just before they got in, Karly called out, “And watch out for Old Man Boone.”

It took a second for Hailey to process what the brunette had said. “Wait—who?” she asked after them. But they were already driving away.

Who is Old Man Boone? With a shrug, she closed the door and returned to her room.

* * * *

2:42 a.m. Hailey stared at the numbers on her phone. Groaning, she tossed it back on the nightstand. What had woken her up? She plopped back on her pillow but couldn’t sleep. On edge but not knowing why, she turned to her other side.

A ghostly whistle sounded outside her window. She stiffened, then relaxed again. It was just the wind. Eyes open, she listened as it gathered in strength outside the house, the low soft swishing turning into a forceful, continuous whoosh.

Goosebumps rose along her flesh. She shivered, huddling deeper into the covers. Her eyes were gritty with exhaustion but her mind was alert. Something was wrong. What, she didn’t know. But something.

A scratching sound, like fingernails on a chalkboard, came from outside the house. Her heart jumped to her throat. The noise struck at her nerves, making them so taut she feared they’d snap.

Screech. Scratch. Screech.

She squeezed her eyes shut and jerked the covers over her head, anchoring them with fisted hands. Even as she cowered, she scolded herself for being afraid of things that went bump in the night. It wasn’t as though the covers could protect her from whatever was out there.

The wind sped up, the whistle lifting an octave as it swooped around the side of the house and into Hailey’s imagination.

Then, beyond the whistling and the scratching, she heard a new sound. The long, heavy cry penetrated the air. Like a foghorn, it pierced the commotion of the outside world, growing louder, closer. A phantom of darkness, its lonely voice was a haunting song sung to an absent crowd. The wind, the scratching, the unknown outside—all were overwhelmed by the noise.

Hailey’s bed began to shake and she yanked the covers from her head. An earthquake?

The cry came a second time, wailing like a mother who’d lost her babe. The earthquake’s force increased, rattling the glass against the window frame and knocking her bedposts against the wall. She glanced at the nightstand. Her phone danced across the top and dropped to the floor with a smack.

The midnight monster cried a third time—shorter, but just as effective.

We’re going to die! She had to get Sarah. Get her mom.

Uncertain where the courage came from, she jumped from her bed and bolted across the shaking floor, the wood cold against the bottoms of her feet.

“Mom!” she shouted, sprinting into the living room.

“Hailey?” Her mother burst from her room. “Are you all right?”

Hailey threw her arms around her mother, quaking every bit as much as the house.

The phantom nightmare let loose another long, low cry, this more ear-piercing than the others.

She gripped her mother, her eyes closed tightly with fear. She was certain the house would crumble around them.

Then, suddenly, the wailing stopped.

The shaking subsided, the house creaking as it settled into its former, resolute stance. The whistling wind became audible once more.

“What’s wrong, honey?” her mom asked, running a calming hand over Hailey’s frizzed curls.

Hailey looked at her in astonishment. “Didn’t you hear that?”

“Yes, sweetheart. The train.”

The train. The train? Her mind raced a mile a minute, trying to piece everything together. Her heart pounded against her breastbone.

“Did it scare you?” her mother asked. “They warned me we’d hear it sometimes at night. It runs through here on its way to Gillette. Of course, I wasn’t expecting the house to shake, but it makes sense considering how close we are to the tracks. And that wind! Let’s check on Sarah.”

Hailey’s face heated. No wailing phantom haunted the outdoors. And the reason for the whistling wind was obvious—they were in Wyoming. The wind blew fiercer here than in Portland. There weren’t as many trees and mountains to break the flow. And the scratching sound was probably just a bush rubbing against the side of the house.

She followed her mom into her sister’s room.

“Didn’t even faze her,” her mom said as she walked to Sarah’s bedside. “She’s utterly exhausted.”

Hailey looked over her mother’s shoulder. The little girl breathed steadily, her eyes closed. In the glow of the room’s nightlight, she could see a drool mark darkening the pillow beneath the girl’s mouth.

“It’s a good thing our washing machine is hooked up,” her mom said, a smile in her voice. “Looks like I’ll be doing that pillowcase sooner than I thought.” She put a hand on Hailey’s shoulder. “Come on, let’s go back to bed. You scared me when you came storming out of your room like that.”

“Sorry, Mom.” And she was. She was also pathetic. Because who got worked up over a silly thing like a train?