Free Marysvale by Jared Southwick

added, “There’s something else you should know about
them.”
    “ The monsters?”
    “ No. The
townspeople.”
    “ Why should I care what the
people in Marysvale believe?” I asked.
    “ It will be helpful to know,
so you can understand them.”
    Understanding them usually wasn’t the
problem in my mind; it was the other way around that was more
troublesome.
    “ I’m not planning on going
there,” I said. The last thing I wanted was another town full of
superstitious people.
    She looked at me with a strange,
mischievous expression on her face.
    “ Maybe not now, but I expect
before too long you’ll want to.”
    There was something she wasn’t telling
me. I tried reading her thoughts again, but got nowhere. It was
frustrating. I could tell they were there, but blocked. It was like
seeing light behind a curtain, but unable to open it. Supposing I’d
have to do it the hard way, I decided on the direct
route.
    “ What aren’t you telling
me?”
    She didn’t look surprised by my candor
and simply replied, “A lot.”
    I sighed. “For the sake of argument
then, why will I want to go to Marysvale instead of going
home?”
    “ It’s best you find out on
your own.”
    She seemed to be enjoying this little
exchange.
    I asked bluntly, “Do you always answer
your guests with riddles?”
    “ No, only the ones I
like.”
    I blushed.
    She laughed.
    “ I think you’ve had enough
excitement for one day; we can continue our conversation in the
morning.”
    “ You’ve gone to all that
trouble of telling me I should know more—and now you’re sending me
to bed?”
    “ There will be plenty of
time tomorrow to continue our conversation, when you’re rested and
not so irritable. And don’t worry about the creatures; you’ll be
safe tonight. The dog will alert us if anything comes.”
    I looked at it sprawled on its side,
asleep, and doubted that it would be much of a warning.
    “ There is a spare feather
bed upstairs you can use,” she said.
    I hesitated.
    “ Are you married?” I
asked.
    She looked at me with a raised eyebrow
and answered, “No.”
    “ Do you think it would
be…?”
    She cut me off.
    “ I’m flattered you’d ask;
but really I think you’re a little too young for me,” she
teased.
    My face flushed and I stammered,
“No…that’s…that’s not what I meant….”
    She laughed again.
    “ Relax, John. I know what
you meant. You can sleep with the animals in the barn if you think
it’s more appropriate than sleeping in the same house with an
unmarried woman. Or, there is a warm feather bed up the stairs.
It’s your decision; but I think you will get much more rest, and
will heal faster if you sleep well.”
    I debated for a moment; but I already
knew what I was going to do.
    Moments later, I found myself in a
small room, with an equally small window that faced the woods. The
bed was soft and warm; something I appreciated even more after
surviving the previous nights in the wet and cold. Recalling my
experience sent me burrowing deeper under the blankets. It felt so
good to be clean and fed. I watched the moonlight stream through
the window until the warm bed, and my own weariness, overcame the
ache in my shoulder; and I drifted off to a most welcome
sleep.

Chapter Six: Friendship

    T HE following day—or more accurately, afternoon—came all
too soon. Groggily, I forced myself out of bed, got dressed, and
went downstairs. The kitchen and the front sitting room were empty.
Not wanting to venture into the nether regions of the house, for
privacy’s sake, I made my way out onto the porch. The weather was
warm, making it feel more like spring than fall. I sagged down onto
a swing, suspended by ropes from the overhanging roof, and rubbed
the remaining sleep from my eyes. My shoulder, though less sore,
still protested sharply with pain, if moved too much. Studying my
surroundings a little further, I discovered some things I’d missed
during my quick entry. Along with the livestock, there