Savannah Burning

Chapter Three

The shrill sound of my phone woke me early the next day.

“’lo?” I mumbled into it.

“Good morning!” Daisy yelled.

I immediately lowered the volume. “Christ. What do you want?”

“Not Christ, but close!”

I cracked a smile – I walked right into that one. But there was no way I was giving Daisy the satisfaction of knowing she made me smile before – I glanced over at my alarm clock – 7:30 on a Saturday morning. “What do you want?” I repeated.

“Do you know what day it is?”

“Um,” I said, burrowing deeper into my sheets. “Saturday?” It was a long, long time before Daisy spoke again. I was just starting to nod off again when she finally spoke.

“Did you honestly forget?” Her voice was grave.

“Forget what?” I yawned, pulling my phone away from my ear in anticipation.

“It’s the first-full-day-of-fall!” She exclaimed.

“Oh. Right. Totally,” I yawned. “Well, congratulations. Night night.”

“TYSON!” If I wasn’t awake before, I certainly was then. Daisy’s voiced pierced through the phone. “…AND I SWEAR IF YOU HANG UP THIS PHONE OUR FRIENDSHIP IS OVER. OV. ER. OVER. DO YOU HEAR ME? ARE YOU THERE? TYSON?”

“Yes, Daze. I’m listening.”

“Good. Now get out of bed. You have fifteen minutes before I come get you with a pumpkin bagel.”

“Ew that sounds disgus—“ but Daisy had already hung up. Time had escaped me in the craziness of Katie Skye. Every year since Daisy, Robbie, and I became friends, we all made the trip out East to go pumpkin and apple picking. It started from our parents, who would take turns each year bringing us out to the farm. Now that we all had our licenses and two out of the three of us had our own cars, we started to drive ourselves out there, carrying on with the tradition.

I hardly had enough time to get dressed and brush my teeth when Daisy pulled up in her Jeep, honking her horn. Robbie was already slumped in the front seat, sunglasses on, hoodie pulled up over his head.

“I just don’t understand why we have to leave so ea . . . ea . . . early,” Robbie yawned, tossing a paper bag at me in the backseat. I eyed it nervously.

“To beat the traffic, of course,” Daisy said. “It’s a salt bagel with scallion cream cheese. Your favorite.” Then, turning around in her seat, “you didn’t seriously think I was going to get you a pumpkin bagel, did you?”

“Thanks, Daze,” I said, grinning as my mouth watered at the smell of a freshly baked bagel. “Did you by any chance –“ a YooHoo flew at me from the front seat. “It’s like you get me or something.”

“Maybe we should be friends or something.” Her eye caught mine in the rearview mirror and I crossed my eyes at her. We drove in silence for a while; the only sound was Daisy’s favorite band playing softly from her radio.

“So,” Daisy finally said, breaking the silence.

“Soda pop and bubble gum,” I responded. The saying may annoy me, but it downright infuriated Daisy, so (no pun intended) I used it as frequently as I could in her presence.

“Don’t be smart with me after I bought you breakfast.” She glared at me from the rearview mirror.

I stuck my tongue out in response to let her know I was both kidding and grateful. “So…what?” I asked.

“Have you seen her?”

“Seen who?”

“You know…Katie?”

I thought back to yesterday, Katie’s finger on her lips. Ssshhh. “No,” I lied. “I know Heather and Emily tried to stop by yesterday but the cops wouldn’t let them go by. I guess they were all friends before Katie disappeared.”

“I know. I saw them on the news last night. The reporters loved them.”

I snorted with laughter. “Of course those girls managed to grab a few minutes of fame from someone else’s tragedy.”

“I wonder if they even really remember her. We were all so young, you know? You weren’t around for that, right?”

“No,” I shook my head. “I didn’t get here until after my fifth birthday, right around Thanksgiving. Remember?”

Daisy’s wide eyes met mine in the rearview mirror. “s**t, that’s right. That was such a crazy year. My parents were a nervous wreck to let me over your house for the first time.” We pulled off the main road and onto a dirt path. I shook Robbie awake who wiped the drool off his chin, pulling his sunglasses off and looking around.

“That was a fast ride,” Robbie stretched.

“’Cause you slept the whole time,” I accused, flicking his Adam’s apple, causing him to briefly choke and stutter. We parked next to a row of minivans and SUVs and made our way through the fence into the farm. The farm was familiar to us -- we went to the same one every year. Their corn maze stretched out for miles and on the weekends they roasted corn and dipped the apples you handpicked into caramel right in front of you inside the old renovated barn that sat at the top of the gravel driveway. My mouth watered at the very thought of it.

“What kind of pumpkin do you want this year, Daisy?” Robbie asked, putting his arm around her.

Daisy shot Robbie that wicked smile of hers. “You really have to ask?” Daisy cracked her knuckles. Every year Daisy insisted on buying the biggest pumpkin she could find and had us carry it all the way back to the car. Back when we used to have pumpkin carving competitions, Daisy would always win.

Ahead of Robbie and myself, Daisy was weaving her way through the clusters of families scattered across the field. We trailed behind her as she stopped and inspected every other pumpkin we came across.

“I like this one,” Robbie offered. He was pushing a rather large pumpkin from side to side with his foot. “It’s nice and round. It’s one side is a bit dented, but let’s be real – who isn’t a bit dented these days?”

“Nope,” Daisy confirmed. “I need a perfectly plump pumpkin.”

Sighing, Robbie kicked the pumpkin gently with his toe. “Sorry, dude,” he said to the pumpkin. “She only wants a perfect one.” We walked the patch up and down twice before Daisy finally compromised for Robbie’s not-so-perfect pumpkin. Daze used our find as a seat while Robbie and I fetched a wheelbarrow from the welcome center.

As we approached her, Daisy glared at Robbie’s smug grin. “Stop that,” she snapped, hitting him in the shoulder.

He mocked innocence. “What? I’m just excited we chose my pumpkin.”

“It’s only because there aren’t any good ones this year,” Daisy replied defensively. “Yours isn’t even that good. It’s just okay.”

“You’re only upset because I found the best one,” Robbie laughed. We heaved the pumpkin into the wheelbarrow and both began to push it forward.

“Whatever,” Daisy huffed. “Let’s just get some food.”

“Oh, good,” I said, pushing my hair back. “I’m starving.”

“You’re always hungry,” Daisy responded.

The inside of the old, gutted barn was almost as magnificent as the outside. The barn had been renovated into a local farmer’s market. The smell of roasting corn and pumpkin spice made my mouth water as we stepped inside. Like we did every year, the three of us stopped at the caramel apple stand and we each got our own. Sometimes, if we were feeling particularly wild, we would top our apples with sprinkles or coconut chips. This year, however, we all bought a simple caramel apple.

“This never gets old,” Robbie sighed between bites.

“I think this might be the best one yet,” I swooned, savoring every bite of my apple.

“I can’t believe this is our last year together,” Daisy said quietly.

I stopped myself mid-bite. “You don’t know that,” I said.

She shrugged, her eyes glued to the table. “We’ll all be at different colleges. We’ll have different lives next year.”

“We can still try and keep up with traditions,” I insisted.

“Maybe,” she said, her voice thick with emotion.

Robbie and I glanced at each other. “Hey,” he said, his voice suddenly light and cheerful. “Let’s do the corn maze. That’s always cheer—“

“Wait, wait,” Daisy said, cutting him off, her gaze locked on the T.V. behind me. “That’s the segment. The one with Heather and Emily,” she pointed. I swiveled around in my seat to look.

“I just don’t understand why everyone is being so adamant,” Heather was saying. “We were her friends. We want to see her. We’re so happy she’s back and that she’s safe.” Behind her, Emily was nodding solemnly. The two girls were as opposite as one could imagine; Heather’s skin was as pale as porcelain, her red hair pulled up in her usual perky cheerleader ponytail. Next to her, Emily’s dark skin stood out against Heather’s pale complexion.

“We brought her a scrapbook,” Emily was saying and the news reporter moved the microphone from Heather to Emily, whom was clutching a large, stickered book to her stomach. “We made it together after she was taken so that we could remember her. Our moms helped us, but we wanted to give it to her to comfort her.”

“If there’s one thing you could say to Katie right now, what would it be?” the reporter asked.

Heather looked into the camera and took a deep breath. The reporter quickly switched the microphone back to her. “Katie. I’ve missed you. You were my best friend and I thought about you every day you’ve been gone. I’ve missed you every day. We both have. I never thought I’d be able to see you again –“ Heather’s voice broke and she looked away to take a breath. “Please know that we’re here for you. Know your friends are waiting for you – have been waiting for you. We’re not going anywhere.”