Terry stepped onto the apartment ground and saw Mister Clines sitting on the bench next to the fountain. He looked like he had aged a couple of years. The bags under his eyes were deep, and he smelled like he hadn’t showered in days.

  “Hey.” Terry greeted as he walked up.

  Mister Clines looked up with a tired smile. “Ey, Kid.”

  “Can I sit?”

  “Go fur it.”

  Terry sat down next to Mister Clines. On the bench, between the two of them, was Mister Clines’ bag. He looked to the fountain and remembered the promise he made to Cadence.

  Mister Clines must have noticed something and spoke up. “Long day?” He asked.

  “Yeah.”

  Mister Clines nodded and confirmed his day was the same.

  Neither of them talked, and both stared at the dusty bricks of the fountain. Their breath was smoke in the chilling air.

  Terry thought about the crying little girl he met, and about Cadence the mermaid that had asked him to steal from Mister Clines. He wasn’t sure he could do it. It was deceitful.

  Mister Clines thought about the search, and about the prophecy which involved the fountain.     Everywhere he believed there to be a marker, there was nothing. Even digging and poking around revealed nothing.

  Sheriff Johanson drove his cop car into a parking spot. He stepped out, caught Clines’ eye, and waved to him to come over. He was wearing a thick coat, most likely new, based on the freshness of the black dye and the puffiness of the cotton inside. Clines stood to his feet and took a second to stable himself.

  Clines looked to Terry, and said, “I’ll be righ back.”

  Terry asked, “You in trouble?”

  “Nah, jus adult stuff.” Clines answered. “Hey, you watch my bag while I talk ta the sheriff?”

  “Sure.”

  “There’s a piece of candy in there if you want it.”

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  Terry heard. The only sweet he had had in a while was a snowcone.

  Clines walked over to the sheriff, who was standing half outside of his car. When Clines was close enough, he tilted his head, motioning toward the passenger side.

  “Gettin Leland,” he said. “Is too cold to talk outside.”

  “Is only fifty degrees.” Mister Clines muttered.

  “Too Cold.” Sheriff Johanson repeated before closing the door.

  When Terry saw Mister Clines getting in the car, he looked at the bag sitting limp next to him. He opened it hesitantly, remembering back to the time his mom slapped his hand for opening her bag, despite Clines saying he could have the candy. The zipper was worn and took longer and proved more trouble than he imagined. He finally got the zipper to budge, he reached in and felt around for candy. He pulled out a pack of cigarettes and replaced it. The second thing he grabbed was a handful of lint. He wiped it off on his pants and then felt around some more.

  Mister Clines warmed his hands against the heater. Sheriff Johanson looked at him. There was a frown on both of their faces.

  “Nothin’?”

  “Yep, same fur you?”

  Clines groaned. Johanson bumped his fist on the steering wheel.

  “Welp. Hopefully this is all just some kinda false prophecy.” Johanson hoped.

  Clines shook his head. “I don think so. The book mentioned the weather would drastically change when it was gettin’ close.”

  “Shit.”

  “But,” Clines continued. “Thers a chance,” then drifted off.

  Johanson raised his eyebrows. “Yah?”

  “There might be a chance that the markers are in the bay.”

  “Shit.” Johanson repeated. “It’s too cold to go fur a swim.”

  “Yeah.”

  Terry found a journal, worn with writing and sticky notes that poured out the sides and fattened it. Then, he felt something cool against his fingers. He pulled it out slowly, feeling the weight and smoothness in his hands. It was the size of his fist. He took it out, but only enough to see it. It was the exact crystal Cadence described. There was the sound of a whisper in a flowing breezing. He saw a rock on the ground, and he turned to look at the Sheriff’s car. Neither of them was looking.

  Clines said, “We’ve got ‘bout three days, I think.”

  “Ther’s no way I can convince anyone to go searching fur anything underwater.” Sheriff Johanson shook his head.

  “I know.”

  The two of them thought about what else they could say. When they were done, Clines stepped out back into the cold, and Sheriff Johanson drove away. Mister Clines sighed as he walked back to the bench. He found Terry sucking on the piece of candy.

  “Ya find it?” Mister Clines forced a chuckle.

  “Tastes a bit dusty.” Terry said, staring at the ground.

  He thanked Mister Clines for the candy while keeping his hands stuffed in his jacket pockets. Clines suggested he go inside because it was colder than usual.

  Terry nodded, said goodbye, and ran off. Clines watched him leave more suddenly than usual. He scratched his head and grabbed his bag. Something felt off. He ignored it and went back to his apartment in search of warmth.

  The apartment was cold and the air was still and smelled of dust. Terry flipped on the heater and took off his jacket before setting it on the couch with his school bag. He walked through the living room to the kitchen. His mom wasn’t home from work yet. It was only four o’clock, and she wouldn’t be off until seven. He could feel the dirt in the unvacuumed carpet stick to his naked feet. He checked the calendar, it came with the phases of the moon on the days that they happened. He also noticed Winter break would be starting in a couple of weeks. He grabbed and took a bite from an apple on the counter. As he took a couple of bites, he stared across the apartment. He could see the bulge in his jacket pocket. His stomach twisted, and his appetite was lost.

  Outside the window, the sky was dull. Clouds blocked out the sun and projected a grey color to everything. The apartment lights were weak, and Terry tried to open the blinds to let some light in, but it didn’t change much. He sat on the couch with a book for the rest of the day.