Out in the autumn of Possum Springs, against the overcast of a fading rain, a beat up red pickup truck with a black topper on the back parked on the street in front of her house. Out stepped a young dog with pointed ears, rusty brown fur, and tired green eyes.

With a nod, he addressed her.

Howdy.

She nodded in turn.

Hey.

She played with the zipper of her fuzzy, blue jacket while he adjusted the passenger seat, moving a couple empty soda bottles to the cupholders in front of the radio, which was turned off for now.

He spoke with a low rumble.

There's room in the back here for your goodies. No good leaving 'em in the trunk, right?

She shrugged.

Yeah, no.

With a crunch of brown leaves against the sidewalk, she adjusted her backpack and picked up the bag that held her bass and he helped her get it all settled behind her seat. After a bit of struggling to grip the handle that'd help her get up into the truck, she slid into her seat with a sigh as he closed the door.

Rounding the front of his vehicle, he stopped a moment and tapped the hood with a gentle hand before sitting down next to her. He was much taller than her, and he had a much easier time of getting up, getting in, and getting comfy.

He lit a cigarette and rolled down his window as he shifted into drive.

Mae had enjoyed the four months she got to spend without cigarette smoke in her face. Bea had her last one then, and was currently spending her spare cash on nicotine gum. Better than before, at least.

She had spoken to this guy a week ago on the phone. Gregg gave her his number. He seemed okay enough, but the southern accent threw her off.

Gregg said this guy was the best drummer ever. Probably not true, but if Gregg liked him, then maybe she could like him too.

He was strange in every way she could imagine.

He had on a green baseball cap with the broken heart logo of some team she didn't recognize emblazoned on the front. The cap's bill hung over his eyes.

Between his brown boots, blue jeans, and plaid button up shirt, it's like someone forgot to tell him that he lived in Bright Harbor. Hard to believe she was finally going to visit. Was every other guy there like this?

GPS don't work out here, huh?

His question shook her from her staring. Even if he had paid any mind to it, he was keeping his eyes on the road for now.

Nope.

She mumbled and kept playing with her zipper.

He adjusted his grip on the steering wheel as he spoke.

I figured. Had to peek around for the right street. Cute little house you live in.

Her zipper squeaked as she spoke.

Thanks.

After a few moments moments of silence, he turned on the radio. Through the static, some nondescript alt rock with whiny vocals poked through.

It was like this for an hour and a half.

During that time, the rain had picked up again, and he flicked on the windshield wipers as Mae lied halfway asleep in the truck.

In all the anticipation, she'd gotten very little sleep the night before, and in the early afternoon, it was catching up to her.

Y'all want me to turn off the music for ya?

His question pushed her back into the waking world. She rubbed an eye and straightened herself in her seat. With a stretch, she answered him.

It's just, like, a really boring ride.

He smirked and gripped the steering wheel.

Suppose so. Unfortunately for us, my dang CD player is busted. Once we get closer to the Harbor, I can get some decent music going on the radio.

Mae's ears perked up at the thought of music she might actually enjoy.

Is the radio any good there?

With a tobacco smile, he switched to driving with one hand as he answered her.

We're spoiled for choice out there. All kinds of tunes from local and national acts you and Greggarious can get into. Even got a jazz station I like, although I can't quite convince your buddy to try that out just yet.

Mae raised an eye at that nickname. It was the first time she had heard it. It was only then, in that moment, that Mae truly realized Gregg had spent the last year and two months building a life away from her. A new home, new friends, new experiences. And yet, she supposed, he had invited her to join him. For a week, at least.

A month ago, Gregg had shared with Mae his immaculate plan. She was on her bed, playing Demontower on her laptop in a late summer evening. As the cries of cicadas bled through her window, Gregg sent her the message.

hey gurl

guuuuurl

ur still practicing ur bass rite?

In all the time they had together now, Mae and Bea still messed around with music every now and then. Bea even gave Mae some tips on how to compose on the computer, which for Mae became a fun way to pass the time. She wasn't sure if anything she made was any good, but Bea didn't immediately call it trash when she first heard it, so Mae figured that she must be doing something right.

yea? something to do

im abt to blow ur mind

rlly?

ok so thers this guy i met at a coffee place his name is roy he saw me plyn guitar outside cuz i do busking n stuff nyway he sed he plys drums and its whatver but we actully start tlkn and im like hey ths guy actualy knws stuff n we shre numbrs n latr on we jam and holy wow mae he can play and thn im like this sonds so gud n we see thers a battl of the bnds thing happnin soon n im like we ned a bassist to cmpete n roy is lk do u knw any one?

It took Mae ten minutes to process all this information. Once she was sure she understood, she had just one question.

me?

yeeeeeeeeeeees! so lke if u wnt u cn cm ovr to bright harbor n we can practic n get in the competition n win it all cuz were gonna b awsm

Mae stood up on her bed. The springs squeaked as she jumped, jumped at the thought of getting to see Gregg again after so long. She was so excited, she almost forgot to say yes.

yesyesyesyesyesyesyesyesyes

ok we jst gota wrk out the deets kep in tuch

So they did. With his work schedule, Gregg couldn't deliver Mae to Bright Harbor himself, so she ended up with Roy's number. In what felt like both no time at all and all the time in the known universe, she and the dog had made arrangements to travel to Bright Harbor and practice together with Gregg for a local Battle of the Bands, winner take all.

Still, it was a shame, she was beginning to see, that she had to go on the five hour drive with this total stranger.

A stranger that, at the two hour mark, had lit up another cigarette. He rolled down the driver side window just a crack, droplets of rain kissing the side of his face as he flicked ash onto the highway. He stared ahead, watching the road with a frown.

With no eye contact, he addressed Mae with a reserved tone, his voice at its deepest pitch yet.

You're gonna feel real free when we get there.

She blinked, Roy's serious tone catching her in strange place.

What?

He smiled again. A toothless smile. A small smile.

Home is more than a building ya eat your breakfast in. It's a community. The Harbor is the kinda community ya feel known in. Ya got a certain kinda mind, a different kinda living, they get it. The moment you step out and see it, you'll feel it. Look forward to it.

Mae looked over at Roy, but he didn't look back at her. His eyes were on the road. He was looking out, out toward Bright Harbor. She joined him in looking ahead. She saw nothing but the rain and the bare trees that lined the road.

And yet, she felt something.

Everything.