Scrapped by Mollie Cox Bryan Page B

sleep.
    “Oh, here comes a car,” Beatrice said.
    “Maybe they’ll stop,” Vera said.
    “That’s Cookie!” Annie exclaimed.
    Annie stood up, and sure enough, it was Cookie in a rental car—a yellow Volkswagen Bug. She waved and pulled along the slim berm that dropped off into a ditch along the hillside.
    “Look at you ladies. I wish I had my camera,” she said, grinning, with her hands on her hips, after getting out of the car. She was wearing old blue jeans and a thick gray wool sweater. The color brought out the gray in her green eyes and was set off by huge dangling silver earrings.
    “Would you just be quiet and help if you can?” Annie said, smiling, brushing her hands together.
    “Shoot, I can change a flat,” Cookie said. “But he can probably do a better job than me. Upper body strength and all that,” she added and pointed at the Bug. A large man was trying to get out of the small car. “Found him walking along the road. I offered to give him a lift.”
    He was dressed in what the locals called “plain clothes”—black Mennonite garb—and tipped his hat to the women. “How do?”
    Annie noticed the three earrings in his right ear. He was no Mennonite.
    Beatrice took over. “Fine to meet you, Mr., ah . . .”
    “Name’s Luther Vandergrift,” he said, sizing up the women with a few brief looks.
    “Can you help us out?” Beatrice said.
    “No problem,” he said, taking off his hat and crouching next to the car.
    In no time the old tire was off, looking like a pitiful, huge fake snake with nails sticking out of it. Huge nails.
    “What are you doing way out here?” Vera asked Cookie while Annie tried to help Luther by sliding the new tire onto the rim.
    “It’s my annual retreat. I told you about it. I do it every year, a few days before Halloween. That’s why I couldn’t come with you to Aunt Rose’s today.”
    “This is a retreat? I thought you were going to a spa or something,” Vera answered.
    Cookie smiled. “No. I take my tent, some food, water, notebooks. And it’s just me and the sky.”
    “It’s too damned cold to be camping out up here this time of year,” Beatrice said.
    “I do okay. I’ve got a great sleeping bag.”
    “What about the bears?” Vera said.
    “I’m okay with the bears,” Cookie said, moving her head around so her dangling earring caught the light. “If they are okay with me.”
    “You’re certifiable,” Beatrice said.
    “So they tell me.”
    “Thanks,” Luther said to Annie while she helped hold the spare tire in place.
    She smiled back and nodded, half listening to the other conversation, trying not to stare at his earrings. It wasn’t as if she hadn’t seen men with earrings—there were plenty of them back in D.C., where she used to live and work. You just didn’t see many of them around Cumberland Creek. If you did, it was usually a teenager. Certainly not any of the Old Order Mennonites.
    Annie wasn’t certain, but she thought one of his earrings was a cross. She couldn’t make out what the other two were. His beautiful blond hair looked like spun gold, falling in waves around his ears and down onto his neck. It made seeing the earrings’ details difficult.
    He gave the tire one last wrenching and grunted. “There.” He stood up, and Annie saw very clearly that one of his earrings was the same rune symbol that was painted on Beatrice’s house. Her heart began to pound in her chest, and she felt the rush of blood through her body as she tried to take a breath. The feeling just tipped her right over the edge. She’d been just feeling lousy. Now this.
    “Are you okay?” he said and grabbed her, steadied her as her knees wobbled.
    “Annie?” Vera said.
    The women swarmed around her, and she realized this was not what she wanted. She needed space and air and room to move, but they were all around her, fanning her as she lay on the ground now. His face between the women’s concerned faces, all looking down at her.
    “Maybe