FSE

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The next two weeks were the oddest Bea had ever experienced. At first it was fairly quiet. The newspapers ran a story on the recovery of the bodies of six missing people, some of which were children, from the old copper mine. No mention of foul play was made in that first report, but the circumstances were obvious to anyone paying attention. Next came the news cameras and crews. They descended on the police first, of course - primarily the police chief who had little to say beyond that it was an active, ongoing investigation. Most left soon after but a few were seen around town days after the initial news broke.

For the first time in living memory, Possum Springs became the focus of a national news story. Speculation on the major networks ran wild, generally centered around expectations that there was a serial killer on the loose. However, the police chief downplayed that aspect, saying their investigation indicated there was no longer any danger to the public. Meanwhile, both state and federal law enforcement vehicles were seen in town. But so far no one had asked Bea or any of her friends anything about it.

She almost started to hope that their involvement in the story wouldn't be revealed. Meanwhile business was booming all around Possum Springs. During one evening at the Taco Buck, Bea and Mae had a good laugh over the complaints they overheard from the newcomers about the lack of cell phone service.

"Welcome to Possum Springs, gentlemen!" Mae said to them as they left, but Bea scowled at her.

"What? I'm just welcoming the newcomers," Mae said, feigning indignation.

As they walked back down the street, they saw Mr. Penderson coming towards them.

"Mae Borowski. I could have guessed you'd have something to do with this!"

"Me? What do I..."

"Saw it on the news. Yup, your days here in Possum Springs are numbered now, missy! About time too."

Mae looked at Bea and they went back to Mae's house.

"Mae?" her father called from the front room.

"Yeah. I'm here. Bea's with me. What's up?"

"Did you know you were on the news, dear?" Mrs. Borowski asked, unusually sitting on the couch with her husband.

"No. What did they say?"

"Some investigative journalist says you and Bea and some other unnamed kids found the bodies. Why would they say that, Mae? You haven't been back in that mine have you?"

Mae turned to Bea.

"You better go, Bea."

"Yeah. Good luck..."

Bea closed the door behind her and went back to her apartment. Her dad was watching TV too. It seemed like everyone was constantly watching TV these days.

"Bea? You were on TV. I think they figured it out. Said you and Mae discovered the bodies."

"Yeah. I thought somebody might squeal. Some investigative reporter probably just paid off a cop to talk."

"Well, do you want to close the Pickaxe? If you don't, it's a sure bet there'll be lots of people trying to talk to you."

Bea considered it. If she closed, she could avoid a lot of hassle. But the real question was her reputation. If she closed the store it might appear she was hiding. She would be hiding.

"No. I'll go in like regular. We did nothing wrong. Except trespassing I suppose."

"Okay. If you think that's best."

Later, when her father had gone to sleep, Bea opened her laptop. Mae had messaged her, as well as Angus. Germ wasn't on IM.

"You going to open tomorrow?" was Mae's question.

"Yeah," she responded. "I've got nothing to hide."

"Good luck," May sent back a little later.

Angus' message was similar. She told him she'd keep him, Gregg and Germ's names out of it for her part, but who knows where they'd gotten Bea and Mae's names from anyway.

"It might not matter. Bea. But thanks. I don't know if we want to be outed by the press, you know?"

"Why the fuck would they care?" she typed back.

"No idea. But they do."

"Well, anyway they won't hear your names from me."

Mae's icon began blinking.

"Can I come over?"

"Better not Mae. Now that our names are out there, people probably will be watching now."

"Yeah. You're right. Jeeze, there are probably people outside my house right now! Hold on..."

A few minutes passed, and Bea peeked out her own window. She didn't see anyone or any news trucks in front of her building though.

"There's a black van parked across the street, Bea."

"Mae, that's Mr. Salvi's van, isn't it? He always parks it there."

Brief delay, then Mae sent back, "Oh. Yeah. It is."

"Talk to you tomorrow Mae. You might want to stay in though. I told Gregg and Angus we wouldn't mention them. Probably not a good idea to drop in on them till this blows over."

"How long do you think that'll be?"

Bea shrugged reflexively, realizing the gesture was lost to IM.

"No idea. But probably no more than a week or so. News stories die fast."

"Hope so. Goodnight Bea."

"Goodnight Mae."

Bea closed her laptop and looked at the open window, then down at herself. She put on her loose shift that served as her nightgown, then lowered and closed the blinds. Just in case.

She was happy to see no strangers were waiting for her at the Ol' Pickaxe. She opened the business as normal. Germ came by a little later but she sent him home, telling him the latest. They didn't have any TVs at his house, so he didn't know about her and Mae's identification as having found the bodies.

"In fact, Germ, stay home this week, why don't you?"

"Got that shipment coming in tomorrow. You sure?"

"Yeah. Just for a little while, till this blows over."

"Okay. Good luck, Bea!"

Of course, it couldn't last. The first reporter came in around mid morning. She knew he was a reporter by his clothes, but also the cameraman that tagged along with him was hard to miss.

"Are you Bea Santello?" he asked, stepping up to the counter. Some regular customers were in the store, but they quickly left - obviously not wanting to be on camera.

She scowled at him. "Is this the Ol' Pickaxe? Where I work every fucking day of my life? Yeah? Then I must be Bea. Waddayawant?"

"Is it true you and a friend found the bodies in the mine?"

"Yeah. We did."

"Why were you in an old abandoned mine?"

Bea saw another customer walk in, take one look at the cameraman, and walk back out.

"Goddammit, you're hurting my business."

"Sorry Ms. Santello. We won't take long."

"You'll take as long as you can fucking get. I know how it works. And I'm not MIZZZ Santello. I am Miss Santello. You're in Possum Springs now, bucko. Wind your social clock back twenty years and you'll get it."

The door opened again. Another reporter. And cameraman.

"Oh fuck. How many of you are there?!"

The first reporter turned around and shook hands with the new one, a frankly beautiful fox.

"There's only us two camera crews in town, Ms Santello," said the newcomer. "Though there might be more coming if something new breaks. But it's our job. We don't mean to be pests but... it's pretty much a requirement."

Bea frowned and stepped out from behind the counter, walking between the reporters to the front door.

"That's Miss Santello. If I'm going to be on TV, might as well get it right. I'm not married, so I prefer Miss. Got it? It may not be PC, but it's PS. Possum Springs."

"Are you kicking us out?" asked the first reporter.

Bea paused at the door, but just flipped the sign over to Closed.

"Would it do any good?"

Even the cameramen chuckled at that.

"Probably not."

"Look, I don't have much to tell, but if you'll do me a favor, I'll give you all the time you want. You say there's only two of you reporters in town, right?"

"Right. For now."

"Okay, if you promise not to bug Mae, I'll sit down with you and you can film-away."

"That's Mae Borowski, right?"

"Yes. She's my friend and I'd rather her not be hassled by you guys."

The reporters looked at each other and agreed, so Bea locked up the door and took them back to the warehouse. There she explained that her and Mae had often explored the mine - just a way to kill time in a quiet town. Then about a year ago the cave-in happened and some people were killed so they boarded up the mine and put new fencing around it. So Bea and Mae couldn't get in.

Then a few days ago she happened to go by the old mine and saw a tree limb had fallen down over the fence. So her and Mae went down to check out the cave-in. While down there they went down a deep pit that had been covered over by a fallen slab, and there they found more bodies. Including that of a friend of theirs.

That led to new questions about Casey, and Bea felt on firmer ground on that subject, so she told them about how he'd gone missing not long before the cave-in.

Finally, they seemed to be satisfied and she was able to shoo them out of the store and reopen. Eventually customers returned, and some asked her about the reporters.

"Yeah, you might as well know. Me and Mae went down in the mine and found them. Just exploring really," was her typical response.

Finally the first day came to a close and she went home directly. While cooking dinner with her dad, she heard her own voice from the TV. Both her and her dad dropped what they were doing and rushed back to the couch.

She was on TV. Not just a picture, but her interview. Bea wasn't sure what to make of that. They even included the "Miss" part. She wasn't sure if she came off as a bitch or not, but the editing appeared to be sympathetic at least. Amazingly it was over at no more than a minute considering the amount of time they'd spent with her. They didn't even mention Mae by name though, and that made her happy.

"Well, MISS Santello," her dad said after the segment was over, "maybe now you'll know better than to explore in dangerous places like that! Bea, what if something had happened? I don't know what I'd do without you."

"Sorry dad," she said with sincerity. "I won't do it again. I hope."

"Sometimes I wonder if I know my daughter at all. I never thought of you as the thrill-seeking type."

"I'm not. Normally. It was... an unusual circumstance."

"Well I hope so. I guess you're a celebrity now."

"I guess so. For Possum Springs. Maybe they'll erect a statue."

"Don't put it past em. They're doing a hatchet job on the police chief. Incompetent bungler, not having found them after the cave-in."

"I don't think they're incompetent, dad. Well, I'm off to bed." "Give me a kiss first, Bea."

She did so, then climbed into bed with her laptop. Even Gregg sent her a congratulatory message on her interview. Mae acted mad that she hadn't been mentioned by name, but it was a ruse. In the end she thanked Bea for keeping her out of it.

The next day, though, the real strangeness started. No reporters came, but she met people from Possum Springs she'd never talked to in person before. Even the mayor dropped by. It seemed a little facetime on national TV had indeed made her a minor celebrity and for a few days she had to turn down multiple invitations to dinner. She even received some odd fan-mail and more than one marriage proposal a few days later!

But then one day Casey's parents came into the store. They thanked her profusely for finding their son, but she wasn't at all sure how to respond.

"I really liked Casey," she told them. "He had his problems. You know that. But he was a genuinely good guy. I miss him."

"We do too, Bea," said Mr. Hartley. "We're holding his funeral at the cemetery tomorrow at noon. We'd really like you to come, if you can."

"I'll be there. I wouldn't miss it. I have some friends... we all knew Casey. Is it okay to invite them?"

"We would appreciate it, Bea. This has been hard for us. Very hard. But at least we know now. I want you to know how much it means to us. Thank you Bea."

Bea's eyes started to water again. Casey's father looked so much like him, it hurt. She showed them out and watched them walk up the street.

"That's what Casey would have looked like, when he got old," she thought. "He'll never grow old now."

But she didn't dwell on the sadness. She had helped his family, in a way. They wouldn't go on hoping and praying for a phone call that would never come. They would have a place in the cemetery to talk to him and remember him, like her mom. It was a sad place, but not an evil place. She would tell the gang about the funeral tonight. Maybe after the funeral, they'd all get together for another band practice tomorrow, in his honor.