A/N: Follow-up to The Bank Where I Died. Set between fifty and seventy five years after my “Monday” alteration. I drew inspiration from “Quagmire,” but the premise is still some type of amalgamation of “Monday” and “The Field Where I Died.” I actually did some research to back this up... if you’re a fan of classic literature (or just another X-Phile), you’ll catch a few alliterations here and there. Reading The Bank Where I Died before reading this would be extremely helpful.

The Continuation Of Fate

Katie’s white cotton dress pooled around her as she sat, legs crossed, blades of grass swaying with the light breeze that had begun to pick up with the coming twilight. The contents of her ratty old shoebox lay in front of her in disarray. She could tell that her mother would soon be calling her into the house before the night enveloped her. Her horses were neighing in the stables, and the crickets were beginning to chirp in the brush behind the barn.

It had been three days since she’d seen her dog, and she was beginning to think he’d never come home. She stayed out until dusk nearly every night since then, hoping he’d come bounding up to her, knocking her back. But he hadn’t.

She heard footsteps approaching, and quickly shoved the last of contents back into her shoebox. She stood, clutching the box, squinting to make out the figure in the distance. The crunching of the leaves beneath the visitor’s feet alerted the horses, and the neighing from the stables grew.

Finally, the stranger approached her. No more than twelve years old, he wore dirty overalls and an even dirtier white t-shirt, a blue baseball cap resting atop his unwashed brown curls.

An odd feeling welled up inside of her. A feeling so sudden and unable to be shaken away that she might have run back to her mother if she hadn’t seen who ran up next to him.

“Daggoo!” She cried, dropping to her knees as her Pomeranian leaped forward, knocking her back.

The boy laughed, removed his cap, and tucked it into his pocket. “I’m Will. I found this dog under our porch and my dad told me to ask around, see who he belongs to. I’m, uh, I live right past that clearing.”

She looked up at the boy, her new neighbor, and grinned. “Thank you, Will. My name’s Katie.” She ran her hand up and down Daggoo’s back as he happily wagged his tail, only half-listening to the boy. She noticed that she dropped her box, just as Will glanced over at it. She reached for it protectively as he bent down to help her pick up its contents, Daggoo playfully running back and forth between them.

“I wouldn’t have thought a girl like you would like bugs,” Will told her, picking up the piece of cardboard with a bumblebee pinned to it.

Katie picked up the last few slides from her microscope and set them in the box. “Only the pretty ones.” Giggling, she added, “I guess you’d much rather enjoy the underside of a Buick?”

“Nah,” Will laughed, looking down at his dirty clothes. “I was playing ball.”

She put the lid back on the box, and they both stood. The dim light barely illuminated their faces as the sun began to dip behind the trees. “I’d better be going before my mother comes out to get me.”

“No problem,” He said coolly, replacing the cap onto his head. As he began to walk away, Daggoo started barking and ran right up to Will’s heels.

“I think Daggoo wants you to stay for supper,” She said, and quickly added, “As a thank you. My mother made apple dumplings for dessert.”

Will bowed his head, scratching the nape of his neck. “I wish I could, but I can’t tonight. My brother Sam’s home for the weekend. He hasn’t been home in quite a while...”

As his voice trailed off into the rapidly approaching night, Daggoo circled his feet and Katie smoothed her dress as silence fell over them. Will turned and began to walk home, shaking Daggoo away, but Katie couldn’t help but feel indebted to him. He had returned her dog, and was about to walk away without her even getting to know him enough to thank him properly. Somehow, she felt as though she needed to know more. As if there were things she had once known about the odd boy with the dirty clothes, but had forgotten.

“Hey!” She shouted impulsively, as the shadow of his figure began to disappear into the distance. “Will I see you again?”

He turned his head, never breaking his stride, and as he was lost behind the trees and past the clearing, she heard his echoing reply. His voice carried over the blades of grass, the crickets, and the horses in the stable, and she experienced for a split second the feeling of remembrance in the pit of her stomach.

“I’ll meet you tomorrow night, in the field.”