Finding Home by Megan Nugen Isbell Page A

home.”
    “I can tell you don’t like talking about it though,” I said, my words coming out nervously.
    “You’re right.  I don’t talk about it much, but it doesn’t mean I won’t when asked about it.”
    I didn’t push him.  He’d open up when he was ready…if he was ever ready.  I’d just wait and listen if he needed me. 
    “So…where’re we going?” I asked him as we drove to the outskirts of town.  There wasn’t much to do in Carver and I’d bet anything there wasn’t anywhere new he could show me.
    “I don’t really know,” he said, smiling to me, suddenly rolling down both of our windows and turning up the volume on the stereo.  The music blared and the wind whipped my hair around as he pressed the accelerator.  I looked over and watched as the speedometer inched up higher and higher, nearing sixty miles an hour on a road with a speed limit of forty-five.  I held onto the handle of the door, trying not to say anything.  I was scared though.  I hated speed and I certainly didn’t trust Brandon.  He was a maniac when it came to anything with an engine, but I didn’t want to upset him either by asking him to slow down.  I continued to bite my tongue, but then he floored the gas pedal and the engine roared as the truck seemed to lift as we flew down the road. 
    I glanced over at Brandon.  He had a look of elation as he drove, his eyes focused on the road.  My heart though, was pounding and when I saw the speedometer approaching seventy, I had to say something.
    “Can you slow down, please?” I asked calmly.
    “C’mon, Mandy!  This is great!  Don’t you feel alive?”
    “No.  I feel like I’m gonna be dead if you don’t slow this thing down.” There was more urgency in my voice and I gripped the handle tighter.  He just kept going though. “Please, Brandon.”
    I didn’t want to shout at him or sound whiney, but I was on the verge if he didn’t slow the damn truck down.  I was staring over at him as I held on and I saw his eyes glance over to me briefly and I remember thinking he’d better not take his attention off the road for one second or we could crash.  He moved his eyes back to the road quickly and then I felt my heartbeat starting to relax as the truck slowed down.  I was quiet until we were cruising at what I felt was a safe speed. 
    “Better?” he asked a few moments later and I nodded.
    “Thank you, Brandon.  I…I just don’t like going that fast.  I thought you’d know that after all this time.”
    He didn’t say anything for a second, but then he reached over, turning the music down again and then rested his hand on mine for a moment.
    “I’m sorry, Mandy.”
    “It’s okay.  I’m just a wuss, I guess.”
    “No, you’re not.  You’re smart.  I, on the other hand…not so much.”
    I just laughed a little and he lifted his hand off of mine in order to make a slow turn down a dirt road and I looked up to see the water tower in the distance.  If I’d learned one thing from living in Kansas my whole life, it was that people were serious about their water towers.  Lights illuminated the tall white tower emphasizing the word CARVER written in red, block letters on the side.  It’d only been around a couple of years and it was all the talk of the old people in the diner while it was being constructed.  They were proud of it and I could recall them talking about making trips out to see it once it was done.  I, myself, had not yet made a trip out to see it up close and personal.  I didn’t see the allure of a water tower.  It was just a thing, but to some people, it was an icon. 
    “The water tower?” I asked, turning to look at him with an eyebrow raised.
    “This thing is a work of beauty,” he said, stopping the truck at the base of it and turning off the engine and then hopping out of the truck.  I sat there for a second, before getting out myself.  He was standing at the base of the tower, his neck craning up, staring at