Free Deception Creek by Terry Persun Page A

have soda at all?”
    â€œSure, you choose. Anything you could want. Glasses are over the sink to your right. Ice in the freezer. I’ll meet you in the living room.”
    While getting his drink, Billy became aware of the kitchen table and chairs. All hand made, he thought. Scott had suddenly become one of the most talented people Billy knew. He had done so much in the ten or so years he had on Billy. Walking into the great room, Billy turned to sit on a side chair. Scott sat on the couch where he had been before. Billy looked up at the painting, still highlighted over the fireplace. “I suppose you painted that, as well?”
    â€œNo. My brother did. He’s really good, isn’t he? Kind of abstract, suggestive of how the forest feels, not just how it looks.”
    â€œIt’s beautiful.”
    â€œHe teaches art at the grade school.”
    Billy wondered what it was in Scott’s family that pumped out such talented people, yet people strapped to such simple jobs rather than ones more glamorous?
    There was a long silence before Scott turned and prompted Billy a second time. “Well? Your story? You showed up for a reason, didn’t you?”
    â€œActually, no. More by accident. I didn’t want to go home.”
    â€œYou just driving around all night in the storm?”
    â€œI went to the library over in Shannon.”
    â€œGood choice.”
    â€œWell, I didn’t think the Wyoming paper would have much about what happened to my dad, you know, since the two papers try to ignore one another.”
    â€œI know. Country pride or something,” Scott cut in. “You’re right though, the Wyoming papers glossed over it pretty quickly. The whole incident was a much bigger deal in Shannon. And even there, not much showed up in the papers.”
    Billy cocked his head like a curious dog. “How do you know so much about it?”
    â€œMy dad. He’s a local history buff. Besides, he was building our house around that time. He got both papers because lumber prices were fluctuating so much. He searched out the best prices.” Scott winked at Billy. “Dad told me all kinds of stories and like a little nerd, I soaked them up. I even read some of the papers myself. I suppose I was maybe around eleven at the time.”
    Billy shook his head. “Well, I didn’t find much. Just as I got to the headline about Dad’s death, the library closed. But I’ll go back tomorrow. In the mean time, I’d like to stay away from Mom. She’s really getting under my skin.”
    â€œYou can stay here.”
    â€œThanks.”
    â€œNone needed. I’ll be glad to have the company.” Scott crossed his legs and looked down at his foot, thinking. “Originally, I thought whatever was going on was something you had to hear from your mother. Now, I’m not so sure.” He looked up. “Everything happens for a reason. I don’t know much. An eleven-year-old doesn’t have the level of understanding that an adult does. So, I get the feeling that there’s more to your mom’s concerns than what I might remember from the papers. In those days you couldn’t print the names of minors. I remembered the incident because nothing ever happens around here.”
    â€œGo on,” Billy said.
    â€œI don’t know.” Scott uncrossed his legs and placed his hands on his knees. “Forgive me for saying this, but you want out of this town, but without knowing your history, you can’t really know what you want.”
    â€œSo what do you know of my history?” Billy said.
    â€œAll right. But you’d better check the facts.”
    Billy nodded.
    â€œWilliam Maynard was killed in a fight along Pine Creek, outside of Shannon. He and your mother were not married then. The marriage was probably something your grandparents drummed up to reduce the embarrassment. Charlie Maynard had run for mayor of Shannon and lost. He