The ground trembled. Clines fell from his dirty bed into a headache of a morning. He reached for his last bottle and shook it to realize it was empty. He rubbed his temples in a desperate attempt to calm the pulsing hangover shoving its way into his skull. He had gotten wasted and walked around the town all night. There was no memory of walking home. He groaned in unison to the car alarms going off outside.

  Clines continued to groan until he reached his desk, and flipped through the pages of his notes. There was nothing about earthquake tremors and the town was nowhere near a fault line.

  He grabbed his sunglasses, and before stepping out into the light of the outside world, he grabbed his backpack. There was a lightness to it and he froze. In a panic, he opened it and dug his hands through its insides. There were his cigarettes, loose papers, a journal, and plain rock. The crystal was gone. He tossed his bag and ran around the apartment. He moved the furniture. He peaked and reached into crevices. He moved piles of papers and clothes. He wanted to rip out his hair. He had lost the crystal.

  Mister Clines ran outside in a panic.

  Terry had begun his walk to school a bit earlier than usual, and when he left the apartment, it felt like the world was ending. The ground trembled under his feet but shortly stopped after setting off car alarms and disturbing the peace. It wasn’t just the ground Terry felt though, he had a strange feeling as if there was a temporary vibration in the air. As he walked to school, he saw people stepping out of their apartments, or houses, trying to figure out the cause of the earthquake.

  It seemed the closer Terry got to the center of town, the tremor had been worse. One building, which had already been needing repairs, was turned to rubble. Some tree branches had fallen. There was a post holding onto the power lines for its dear life. A couple of trucks passed, one being for the volunteer fire department, and the other to help with clearing debris in another direction. He didn’t run into Bella on the way.

  By the time Terry made it to school, the principal and the vice-principal stood outside, informing students that school would be canceled for the day, to allow students whose homes were affected to help their families with the damage.

  He walked back by cutting through the woods. No dears were frolicking, no squirrels arguing over a nut, no birds feeding their young, and no bugs crawling around. The forest looked like a graveyard, full of skeleton trees.

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  “No, ya don’t understand!” Clines yelled in a slurring wave of arms.

  Terry arrived back home to find Mister Clines arguing with an elderly apartment manager near the fountain. Residents watched from a safe distance, all either worried or curious.

  The apartment manager held his hands out as he spoke. “Sir, calm down. Everything is fine. There’s nothing to be worried about.”

  “The world is gonna end in three days! How can y’all just stand around!” Mister Clines’ eyes were wild. “We needa find the crystal!”

  Terry walked through the small crowd and stood in the front.

  “Kid!” Clines ran over to Terry.

  Terry stepped back in discomfort. He felt he had made a bad choice somewhere along the line.

  Clines asked, “have you seen the crystal that was in my bag?”

  Terry stepped back. The look on Mister Clines’ face made him feel like the world was ending.

  “It’s very important ya say something if ya know where it is.”

  Terry looked past Mister Clines, to the fountain, which was three feet away.

  “Say something!”

  A Ghost. Terry noticed a wisp of smoke from the fountain reaching out towards Clines.

  Mister Clines put his hands on Terry’s shoulders. Terry stood wide-eyed as he yelled, “I need ya to tell me!”

  The cloud went into Mister Clines’ chest.

  Mister Clines stopped speaking, there was a rupturing sound, and blood poured from his nose. His pupils went grey. His arms went limp. And, he fell to the ground, landing on Terry.

  Terry didn’t speak for the rest of the day. His eyes stayed wide with lines around the edges, and he stared at anyone who tried to speak to him. A couple of people pulled Mister Clines’ body off of him. The ambulance arrived, along with Sheriff Johanson. Mister Clines was pronounced dead on site. Nobody seemed to mention, or even notice, the ghostly arm that reached for him.

  Sheriff Johanson questioned Terry about what had happened. And he looked at him like he knew there was something more that Terry knew. Terry said nothing.

  After the ambulance left, Trident Grove Apartments fell silent.

  Terry stayed at the police station until his mom could pick him up. Not because he was in trouble, but because the sheriff figured a kid shouldn’t be left alone after witnessing somebody die.

  The sun fell that night, but Terry didn’t fall asleep. The image of the arm from the fountain played in his head, along with echoes of Mister Clines’ words. The guilt caved in his chest as he thought about the crystal. He wouldn’t have stolen it if he knew somebody would get hurt. He cried into his pillows.