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They wouldn’t dry in time for work. Great.

Eventually, Will hefted himself up. He couldn’t afford to just keep sitting there, staring into space. Whatever had happened last night didn’t matter today in his real life. The only thing that did matter was getting ready, going to work, and earning a paycheck. He needed to eat and pay lot rent and buy the shit his dad needed. He didn’t have the luxury of having a crisis.

So he dumped the empty can and the fork into the sink, and went to clean his shoes.

###

At work, everyone was still talking about Mercale Street.

Will put his head down and tried to ignore it. He took out groceries, loaded cars, cleaned the store, put out new stock, and ignored Becky’s curious glances at his bandaged hands.

The only thing that mattered was work. Getting through the day. Ignoring the pull toward the water that hadn’t seemed to dissipate.

Near the end of Will’s shift, just before dinner time, Mrs. Greenfeld tipped him five dollars as he helped her load her groceries, opening the tightly capped items she indicated. She was old and arthritic, and he’d been helping her for years like this.

Will thanked her, then bought himself a small bag of rice and a container of oats before Becky closed down the register for the day. After his closing tasks, he took both steadfastly home, making sure to not so much as glance in the direction of Mercale as he left.

At home, Will cooked a pot of both on the stove, then ate them standing in the kitchen staring out his screened window at the darkening night.

Food in his belly lifted some of his exhaustion and brain fog. Was the pull still there, or was he imagining it?

“I’m going to go to bed,” Will said to no one as he rinsed the pots. He moved through the kitchen, straightening up odds and ends, and finally grabbing the damp and smelly pile of clothing to wash.

He scrubbed his clothes in the bath until his knuckles ached, then hung them over the curtain bar to dry. As he stood, he caught his face in the mirror. Automatically, his hand reached to pull his shirt aside and check.

No bite.

He went back to the living room.

Night insects were beginning to sing outside. It had been a sweltering day, and it was hot and sticky even now. He wondered how cold the spring water would be. It wouldn’t be warm, like the Gulf was during summer. It would stay cool, no matter the heat.

“Stop it,” he muttered. He went back to the bathroom, checked his shoulders, and then forced himself through brushing his teeth and changing the bandages on his hands.

“I’m going to bed,” he said again. The man in the mirror looked wild-eyed though. He scratched at his blonde hair that was sticking to his sweaty neck.

He returned to the front window, cursing himself. Outside he could hear the buzz of mosquitoes, the pitchy song of crickets. It was louder now, and felt like it was attached to the pull. Like it was all trying to convince him to go to the water.

But that would be crazy.

He tapped his bandaged hand against his jeans. He looked at his battered shoes by the door.

Maybe it would help to go back. If Will went and saw that there was nothing there anymore, maybe he’d stop imagining the pull. He could put it behind him.

“Right,” he said. He stepped toward the shoes.

He’d have a look, then put this, and himself, to bed. Chalk it up to a strange night he couldn’t explain.

Will slipped on his shoes and then unlocked his trailer door and went out. The trailer park was silent but for the muffled sounds of TVs. It was late, and everyone was tucked away for the night.

Will walked through the dark, the buzz of mosquitoes in his ear. He went quickly, down the crumbling road to the grocery store, picking carefully through the segmenting cement, and then across the parking lot and toward the bend in the road.

He stopped only when he got to the water’s edge. This time, he unlaced his shoes and pulled them and his socks off, setting it all aside where it was dry.

He kept a sharp eye on the water as he started the walk down to the development site. Even if there was nothing strange out here, there could still be ants and snakes and spiders.

This time, Will noticed when the frogs and crickets all went quiet. It happened as he came upon the construction site, as if the sound had suddenly been muted.

His heart tripped over itself. He scanned the waters, tense.