Book Five, Chapter 8: Strange Collision

After a hearty breakfast of eggs, bacon, and other grease-covered foods, Kimberly, Nick, and I went back into town to continue our investigation.

The first place on my list for the day was the general store. After all, the entire reason we were running the storyline was so that we could pillage it, and I had been wanting to know if Bobby’s food trope had affected the selection at the store.

I was pleased to find that it had.

Eastern Carousel General Store was now packed to the gills with goodies. They had even rearranged the furniture and aisles to create an actual produce section.

Kimberly was ecstatic.

“Looks like this will have all been worth it,” I said.

“Yep,” Kimberly said. “Feels nice when things go according to plan, you know?”

“Can I help you folks?” a voice from the front of the store called out. It was a repeat of my time with Dina. Same old Corduroy Patcher. Except he wasn’t the same old Corduroy Patcher; he was younger. At least a decade younger than he was when I had last seen him.

“Say,” he said, “you’re the folks who are here with the news story about the missing girl, right?”

“That’s us,” Kimberly said.

“You have any leads on that?” he asked, wiping his hands on his apron, leaving visible sweat marks.

“We have some,” Kimberly replied. “We need to follow up some leads before we can air them, though.”

Corduroy swallowed hard and said, “Well, I hope you find that girl.” He wiped more sweat on his apron.

“Can you tell me about this?” Kimberly asked, pointing to something I hadn’t noticed, something that had not been there before when I was here with Dina.

It was a shrine similar to the one at the church, except smaller. This one had a picture of Aurelius Patcher alone, but the saying was the same: “In family we find purpose.”

“Well, that’s my grandfather,” Corduroy said. “It’s our way of keeping him alive. I like to think he looks after the store when I’m not here. He’s my guardian angel.”

“That’s sweet,” Kimberly said, although I didn’t think she meant it.

~-~

After we left the general store, our next stop was the gas station down the road. At that point, we were just looking for NPCs to talk to and try to get some perspective on the things we’ve been seeing around town.

It turned out that the owner of the gas station was Dina’s character’s uncle. Her out-of-town cousin trope had made her related to one of the NPCs in Eastern Carousel to help tie her to the story. We just happened to stumble upon him. Small world.

On-Screen.

He was an older man bound to a wheelchair. His name on the red wallpaper was Barron Cano. His spirit was strong, and when he realized who Kimberly was, he asked loudly, “Is there any news? Have they found my grandniece?”

“I’m sorry,” Kimberly said. “We haven’t found anything yet.” The man looked down at the ground and suppressed tears. “I don’t know what I’m gonna do if that poor child isn’t found. I don’t know what Dina’s gonna do.”

He wheeled himself around behind a bar with a flat-top grill and an assortment of foodstuffs.

As we stood in the gas station, a man came in who I recognized as an employee from his uniform.

“Anything else you want me to do?” the NPC asked. His name was Woodrow “Woody” Patcher on the red wallpaper. He must have been in his mid to late 20s. He wore a permanent grin.

“Ain’t you that news lady who’s out here making a spectacle?” he asked.

“We’re trying to help find a missing child,” Kimberly said.

“You ask me, that kid is dead,” he said.

“And what makes you say that?” Kimberly asked.

“It’s been four days,” he said. “It’s just common sense. If she was alive, she would have come hollering out of the woods by now. No, I think she’s dead.”

“Good Lord, Woody,” Barron said. “That’s my grandniece you’re talking about.”

As if just realizing how rude he was being, Woody said, “Well, well, you see that it’s always possible that she’s still alive.” He wiped his nose with his thumb. “You know, I bet what happened is that the father came and that this is just a domestic issue. I have friends in the city who had a similar thing happen. They say it’s always the parents.” He wiped his nose again with his thumb.

He quickly found his way outside to pump gas for a car that pulled up. Barron looked devastated from the conversation.

“We’re going to do our best to find her,” Kimberly said. “Everyone is out looking.”

“Thank you, dear, but I fear he may be right. I fear Dina has already given up. I just don’t know what I’m going to do.”

We stayed there for a while longer as Kimberly asked him what he knew about the girl and if she had any hiding spots that she liked to go to.

He had plenty to say.

Apparently, he suspected that she had a friend out in the direction of Harless Automotive that she liked to visit. She didn’t talk about him, but he thought she was entitled to her secrets. He urged us to go seek out that friend.

Of course, we knew that she had a friend out there. Kimberly thanked him for his help, and we walked out of the store.

As we did, Woody Patcher said, “You know, this town can’t handle something like this. We got crops rotting in the fields while we’re searching for some girl that’s probably already dead. Ain’t that something to think about?”

Kimberly eyed him down as we walked away, but said nothing.

Off-screen.

We didn’t have any leads. What we did have was a large wooden sign posted near the gas station, telling people that the farmers’ market would be closing early so that the workers could help with the search. It also helpfully included an arrow pointing us in the direction of the market.

Taking that as a sign, we decided to follow it.

That arrow led us to another arrow, which led us to a third arrow, which finally led us to the farmers’ market. It was a large structure, a roof without walls, lined with booths. The whole thing was made from large pieces of timber. It smelled like earth, flowers, and overripe tomatoes.

There were a few main entrances into the structure. Each booth was along a wall, and the person running the booth usually had a car, truck, or even tractor pulled up to the backside of their booth that they had used to bring their things to the market that day.

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As we walked through the market, we went On-Screen.

“Well, I just don’t know what I’m supposed to be doing,” a woman who was called Darla Patcher on the red wallpaper said. “My berries are going to go bad. Produce does not wait just because tragedy strikes.”

In different circumstances, this market would have been quite a fun trip. There were lots of neat booths and all kinds of local veggies and fruits.

Next to Darla Patcher’s booth was Anita Patcher’s booth, but she didn’t sell fruits and veggies. She sold necklaces and bracelets and, most relevantly, candles and small glass ornaments and pictures of Aurelius and Mavis Patcher.

“That is so neat,” Kimberly said, pointing to the supplies that were clearly meant for people to be able to build their own shrine. “How much do these cost?”

Anita looked at Kimberly as if she were the biggest fool and said, “Oh, these aren’t for you, dear.”

“Why not?” Kimberly asked. “Is this a religious item?”

Anita looked down at her supplies and then back at Kimberly and said, “This is a family thing, dear. You needn’t worry about it.”

Kimberly thanked her anyway, and we continued to walk on while Kimberly gave me a weird look and I returned it. Were there really so many Patchers that a person could make money selling knickknacks for their family shrines?

Eventually, we saw a familiar face. It was Rose Harless. She had a booth of her own. Behind it was a blue car that looked like someone had combined a Volkswagen Beetle with a Jigglypuff. The little car was hauling a very little trailer that Rose must have used to bring her stuff to the market.

“Any luck on the search?” Rose asked us as soon as she saw us.

“I’m afraid not,” Kimberly said. Kimberly looked down at the wares that Rose was peddling. She had jellies of all kinds, from blueberries to rose petals. She had sunflower seeds and little sprigs of herbs bundled with twine. There was a bottle labeled “Healing Ointment” that was most certainly not approved by the FDA.

Herbs hung from a string over the top of the booth. I had noticed that she was kind of a hippie when I met her, but I didn’t realize exactly how far she had gone into it. There were trinkets and potions (though they were not labeled that way) and all sorts of natural remedies.

Rose was in the process of packing up all her things.