Never one to pass up a free meal, Trace quickly followed before Rhychard could turn it down in his rush to escape. James Bartlett wasn’t so quick to follow his wife, however. He pulled the dirty rag from his back pocket and wiped his face and then his hands. He then tossed it to his son. “You didn’t see a spider. You okay?”
Rhychard wiped his face, taking his time as he tried to think of what to tell his father. He couldn’t exactly say he saw visions of flames. His father would think him crazy. It was hard enough to convince himself that he wasn’t off his rocker.
Handing the towel back to his father, he said, “Yeah, I’m fine. I saw a shadow or something in my periphery, and it startled me. That’s all. It’s what I get for allowing my mind to wander and not focusing on what I was doing.”
His father stared at him. “A shadow, huh?” He nodded. “If you say so. Come on, let’s get some grub before your friend eats it all.” He patted Rhychard on the back as he started into the house.