Blood Wild

Blood Wild

(Prequel to Blood Wrong)

Geraldine awoke with a start. There was a commotion outside. The bedroom she shared with her younger sister Lee overlooked the back porch of the old house. It was very hot all that day and well into the night, so the girls had their windows wide open in hopes of whatever errant breezes might happen along. Still, well after two in the morning, the gauzy linen curtains hung limp and all their blankets and sheets had been kicked off. Their pillows were as damp as their hair from perspiration.

Getting carefully out of bed so as not to wake Lee who was still sleeping, Geraldine crept over to the open window to glance down into the back yard off the porch. The commotion that had awakened her was the raucous noise from a drunken fool rolling about on the ground still holding a bottle and trying to sing. Or at least that was part of the commotion, the other being her mother who was disgustedly beating at the rolling figure with a straw broom usually used for sweeping dirt and debris off the porch. In this instance Deeny, as everyone called her, determined it was still being used to sweep dirt away. Making a face that bordered on sneering, she spat out the window and turned to go back to bed.

With a huff, she lay back down in the bed she shared with her sister Lee. Lee roused a bit and asked what was going on. Deeny took a deep breath and puffed out her cheeks blowing it out in the form of a perturbed sigh.

“Pa’s home… Mom is angry as usual.” She said quietly but with a touch of venom.

“Been drinking again?” Lee asked timidly.

“Been?… Still is!” She spat out disgustedly.

“Guess that’s why mom’s angry.” Lee offered.

“Well, I’m sure it didn’t matter any worse that he was drunk again.” Deeny murmured and fanned herself with a fan made of folded paper glued to a popsicle stick.

The fanning motion moved the heavily moisture laden air about actually cooling both her and her sister Lee somewhat. The surface of their skin, that was bare beyond their thin cotton gowns, was still beaded with sweat. The electric fan wasn’t working again. Perhaps because the electricity had been turned off yet again as well. It was almost normal now, it had happened so often this past couple of years. Just another deprivation that they knew they must endure when times were hard.

“The name she gave was Caroline…

Daughter of a miner…

Her ways were free…

It seemed to me…

That sunshine walked beside her”…

(((Full Lyrics to the song)))

The name she gave was Caroline

Daughter of a miner

Her ways were free

It seemed to me

That sunshine walked beside her

She came from Spencer

Across the hill

She said her pa had sent her

’cause the coal was low

And soon the snow

Would turn the skies to winter

She said she’d come

To look for work

She was not seeking favors

And for a dime a day

And a place to stay

She’d turn those hands to labor

But the times were hard, Lord,

The jobs were few

All through Tecumseh valley

But she asked around

And a job she found

Tending bar at Gypsy Sally’s

She saved enough to get back home

When spring replaced the winter

But her dreams were denied

Her pa had died

The word come down from Spencer

So, she turned to whorin’ out on the streets

With all the lust inside her

And it was many a man

Returned again

To lay himself beside her

They found her down beneath the stairs

That led to Gypsy Sally’s

In her hand when she died

Was a note that cried

Fare thee well

Tecumseh valley

The name she gave was Caroline

Daughter of a miner

Her ways were free

It seemed to me

That sunshine walked beside her

(((- He only sang the first verse -)))

The lusty drunken voice of their father sang as he rolled and giggled in the yard just off the back porch. This at first seemingly sweet song was not a serenade that their mother wished to hear. Oh no! It infuriated her to no end. Throwing the broom at her drunken slob of a husband she stomped up the stairs of the porch and went into the kitchen. Moments later she pushed back out of the old screen door and it slammed shut behind her as she carried a stock-pot she had collected from the old gas stove.

The soup inside was still warm as she had been keeping it warm for his dinner whenever he deigned to come home and eat it. Well, she served him his dinner. The angry sprite of a woman that she was had had enough and that song was the last straw. She’d show him who was the broken spirited woman who’d turned to whorin with a broken heart.

Sputtering and cursing and laughing all at the same time, Duke finally let go of the now long empty bottle of rye whiskey and sat up, perhaps just a little more sobered than when he first arrived home.

“Caroline… Darlin! Is that any way to greet your lovin’ husband?” He pleaded with a slur.

“Don’t you darlin me! Out spending what money we have on drink and whorin around with who knows what. And then to have the nerve to come home to me and think I’m going to be all nice and loving to you. I don’t think so!” She spat at him then turned and stormed back up the stairs to the back door.

“Baby… please! You know I wouldn’t sleep with anyone but you…” He whined as he tried to scoop and scrape the soup off of his face.

“Oh, I know you didn’t sleep with any of them whores! I’m sure you screwed as many as you could persuade though. You can sleep with the dog… on the back porch!” She said with venom before she let the screen door close then slammed the heavy oak door and locked it.

Deeny lay in her bed, fanning herself, Lee had already drifted back off to sleep. The noise outside had quieted of course, aside from a few muted curses muttered by her father. She could also hear, more clearly, the sound of sobbing coming from her mother’s room down stairs.

Deeny felt badly for her mother, even if she didn’t know everything that had gone on to bring her to this sorrowful night. She did know that her father liked to drink and would often stay out late doing so, and when he did come home there was the inevitable fight between him and her mother.

She knew her mother loved him dearly but something he was doing was hurting her terribly. Eventually even the quiet sobbing from her mother’s room quieted and the night sounds were the only thing to be heard. The heat had brought all the bugs out but none so noisy as the cicadas. After a while though, even those couldn’t keep her awake, Deeny slipped off to sleep.

***___***___

Tom was awakened by the crowing of the scraggly old red rooster the next morning. He groaned and rolled over pulling his damp pillow over his head. Another day on the farm. Another day of chores and sweating and being his father’s whipping boy. In all of his seventeen years he had never seemed to have pleased his Pa. It was as if his Pa hated him for some reason. Tom always worked hard and tried his best but it never seemed to be good enough. His only solace was that in another two weeks he’d be turning eighteen years old. After his birthday he could legally walk away from the farm and make a different life for himself.

“Is that lazy assed boy up yet?” a gruff angry voice shouted from the porch.

Tom’s Pa usually sat on the porch of the morning drinking his coffee. He’d yell through the ratty old screen door at his mother as she cooked his breakfast. Mom was a sweet woman at heart, but too timid to stand up to the old man. She treated him like a king and he treated her like just another head of cattle. She was his property to do with as he wished. Just like Tom was just property, not even worthy enough to be considered a hired hand. Tom didn’t know why the old man hated him or acted like he did anyway.

Tom groaned again and rolled over and sat up on the edge of his cot. His bare feet on the rough oak floorboards as he ran his calloused hands over his face and through his hair. The smell of biscuits cooking downstairs made his stomach growl. He stood up and pulled his blankets up to at least halfway make his bed. Tom then reached for his worn and patched jeans hanging on -the chair next to his small study table.

After slipping into his jeans, he pulled on an equally worn cotton work shirt. One of the buttons was missing but since it was close to the top it didn’t matter much. Besides, his white undershirt kept him reasonably covered. Slipping his feet into his extremely worn work boots, he bent to tie the laces. Once dressed, Tom left his bedroom to go down stairs to the kitchen.

Tom’s mom, Annie, was hastily moving about the kitchen setting things on the table and fussing over food still cooking on the stove. He was about ask her if there was anything he could do to help when the screen door squeaked open and the backlit shadowy figure of his dad, JD stepped in from the porch. He carried his chipped coffee cup in one gnarled and calloused hand, and his battered old John Deer ball cap in the other. The permanent grimace on his face was accompanied by knitted brows and suspicious eyes. His only acknowledgement to Tom’s presence was an almost silent grunt as JD took his seat at the head of the table. Tom stood stoically behind his own chair waiting until his mom had set the last of the food on the table and then took her own seat.

JD immediately reached for the bowl of biscuits but a stern reprimanding look from Annie halted his hand in mid reach. It may have been one of few things that she brooked no argument over and tolerated no exceptions, but grace was holy. No food would be consumed or even served until it had been blessed by saying grace. JD’s grimace soured just a bit more but he held his tongue. Tom reached his left hand out to his mother and bowed his head as she spoke the blessing solemnly. When she said “Amen” they then waited until JD had his plate full before passing the rest of the food between themselves. They all ate in silence for the most part.

When JD had his fill, he grunted when he went to pick up his coffee cup. Annie stopped eating and got up to refill his coffee without comment. Tom glanced furtively between them, and shook his head ever so slightly but held his tongue. He hated that his mother got so little respect from the old man. It’s all he had ever known though, even from his youngest years she never seemed happy, at least around her husband. It was never spoken about though, so Tom really didn’t know the reason or reasons for it. It just was, and he felt sorry for his mom.

After breakfast, Tom knew he only had a short time to get his morning chores done before he caught the bus to school. Slopping the hogs, feeding the old mule, counting the cows and calves and making sure none have gotten out of the fence. That last was done at almost a run as the morning was slipping by quickly and he really didn’t want to miss his bus. Not only would the old man be pissed, but he’d have to walk to school and hope someone would pick him up along the way. He had done that before, and it was a long walk.



***___***___

“Come on Deeny!” Lee whined in aggravation as her sister nudged her out from in front of the sink in the bathroom.

Lee was trying to tame her frizzled mass of blonde curls with a hair brush. The hot humid air last night and of course sleeping on it simply made her hair a mess. Deeny on the other hand was more interested in washing her face and brushing her teeth. The two fussed and argued nearly every day as they had to share the bathroom each morning. Deeny’s hair was thicker than Lees, taking more after their father than their mother. Her hair was dark brown and pulled into a pony tail.

“I told you. You should have braided it last night before going to bed. Now scoot over so I can rinse my face. And hurry up! We’re going to be late!” Deeny spoke around her toothbrush.

Finally, after struggling with her hair brush as long as she could, Lee picked up her favorite headband. The big tortoise shell hair piece had been given to her by her mother on her last birthday. Lee loved how it contrasted with her golden straw-colored hair, and that it tamed that curly mass somewhat and kept it out of her face, for the most part. She picked it up and held it by the open ends and slipped it over her face and along her scalp so that it rested on the crown of her head above and slightly behind her ears.

Turning her head this way and that looking in the little fogged mirror over the bathroom sink, Lee decided that this was as good as it was going to get today for her hair. She liked that the headband matched well with her solid brown skirt and the old brown shoes. She was wearing a new pair of bobby socks today. Her light blue linen blouse was a little big on her but then it was another hand me down from her big sister Deeny. At least it was a pretty blouse she thought. She smiled at Deeny, then just for spite she bumped her right hip into her sister’s left hip as she was rinsing her mouth after spitting out the toothpaste, then she darted giggling out of the room and down the hall to the stairs and down.

Deeny entered the kitchen at double speed, mumbling about being late again. Her mother held up a biscuit with ham in it wrapped in a paper napkin in one hand and the car keys in the other hand. Deeny smiled at her and leaned in and gave her mom a peck on the cheek as she took the biscuit in one hand and the keys with her other. Lee was half standing at the kitchen table, a biscuit in one hand and a glass of milk that she was drinking in the other. Deeny turned to her and tossed her head towards the door to the back porch, meaning for Lee to follow her.

Lee grabbed her books after she sat the empty milk glass back on the table and followed Deeny out the door, telling her mother that she loved her even as she went through the door.

Outside on the porch, Deeny paused and turned to the left to look at the old glider bench.

Her father was laying on his back, his feet towards the door. One leg up and hanging over the end of the glider, the other hanging off the edge and his foot on the porch. His right forearm was draped over his eyes, his mouth was agape and he was snoring. The left hand, like the left leg was hanging off the edge of glider and resting on the boards of the porch floor. An empty liquor bottle was about a foot from his open hand.

Both girls just looked, Deeny with disgust and contempt, and Lee with sadness. Softly, so as not to wake their father, their mother Caroline spoke to the girls through the screen door that had closed behind them.

“Best be gittin along now girls. Let the sleeping dogs lie. You don’t want to be late.” She said with a bit of venom tinged with sadness. Despite all her anger and hurt, she did so very much love that drunken fool that was sleeping on the glider. God help her she thought.

The girls broke from their momentary trance and both bounded down the steps and across the yard to the old Chevy that was parked under the big oak tree. The 1953 four door Bel Air sedan had seen better days. Its light robin’s egg blue paint was speckled with a few chipped and rust spots. The dark blue roof was fading slightly and showed signs of the beginnings of rust too. The full moon hubcaps were cloudy and the white wheels were yellowed with age or dirt, it was hard to tell which. But the tires were good, and it was reliable.

When Deeny climbed in and slid behind the wheel. She had put the key in and started the car before Lee could even slide into the passenger side and close her door. Deeny pressed the clutch with one foot and the brake with the other as she pulled the gear ***********or arm down to reverse. Looking over her shoulder and holding that oversized steering wheel by the bottom nearest herself, Deeny backed the old chevy out from under the tree and turned in the gravel driveway. Then turning back forward, she moved the ***********or into first and away they went with a throaty rumble and a small cloud of oily blue smoke and exhaust.

Caroline watched the old car and her girls drive off to start their day. Her heart ached for them knowing that they had a hard life ahead of them yet. So much to learn and so much to endure. A snuffling and grunt from the sleeping form of her husband asleep on the glider out on the porch brought that thought home very clearly indeed. She loved that man like he was the very air she breathed, but she hated him nearly as much.

Duke was just so damned charming when he was sober, charming and full of love and kindness. He worked hard and provided for her and her girls, well, mostly. If he didn’t fall victim to his own weaknesses, she wouldn’t have any complaints. But weaknesses seemed to rule his mind more than not. Alcohol, chief among them or course, he did like to drink. Of course, when he was drunk, the devil in him came out. He flirted, chased, wooed and sought after every woman around. The charmer and smooth talker had bedded untold numbers of women, married or not.

***___***___



Tom was trotting to the end of the drive way, his books tied with a leather belt dangling from one hand as his other hand tried to wipe sweat from his face. He could hear the wheezing growl of the ancient school bus approaching less than a half a mile away. Another five minutes doing chores and he would have missed the bus for sure.

The old bus braked to a halt at the end of the driveway with a screeching grind of metal on metal and a cloud of dust. When the door swung open Tom stepped aboard and climbed the two steps up and turned to look for a seat. He found one on the driver’s side about halfway back. The seat was empty so he scooted over to sit next to the window so he could watch the world go by as the bus carted him off to school.

Tom truly liked school, if for no other reason than it got him away from the farm for a part of most days of the week. Away from the farm and away from JD. Tom smiled recalling that it wouldn’t be too much longer before his birthday and he could leave home for good. He frowned as he thought of leaving his mom behind to deal with that bastard on her own. Somehow, she had managed his entire life though.

His thoughts also turned to leaving behind what few friends he had at school. Of course, most of them would be heading out into the world on their own as well. Some would get married and start families right away, some still had to find the right person. Some, like himself still had to find anyone at all. With a deep sigh Tom leaned his head against the window staring blankly out at the passing scenery.

It was passing scenery that caught his attention moments later. In a straight away, the slow-moving bus was passed by several trucks and cars. The last in line was an older light blue Chevy with a dark blue top. There, with one arm sticking out the open passenger side window, her hand gliding on the passing wind, sat a vision.

A cute little blonde-haired girl that he had seen at school. He never shared any classes with her that he could remember but he had seen her around school going from class to class. She was a vision as far as he was concerned. That mass of curly blond hair and those big blue eyes just held his attention whenever he saw them. Not that she noticed him. There was always some jock trying to get her attention.

Tom could have matched any of the guys on the football or basketball team if he had tried to play on any team. But the old man made certain that there would be no extracurricular endeavors for Tom. When he wasn’t in class, he was to be at home working on the farm. No sports, no clubs, not any kind of normal social life. This was his senior year of high school and Tom had only been to one dance that entire time. That was less than exciting, with no date, he didn’t even try to ask any girls to dance. Hell, he didn’t even know how to dance in the first place.

As the blue Chevy glided past the wheezing old bus, the blond-haired girl glanced up at the bus and seemingly locked those bright blue eyes on Tom’s own eyes. She smiled at him and her hand seemed to wave at him… and then she was gone, replaced by a slightly hazy blue smoke hanging in the air.

***___***___

“Who are you waving at girl?” Deeny said with a wry grin as she glanced sidelong at her sister Lee as they passed the rickety old school bus.

Lee began to blush immediately and bit her bottom lip and tilted her head down slightly even as she began to grin sheepishly at her older sister.

“I think it was that boy from down the road a-ways from home. I’ve seen him around school but I have never talked to him.” She said looking back over her shoulder at the bus falling farther and farther behind them.

“You mean little Tommy Branson?” Deeny asked with one eyebrow arched, again glancing at her younger sister.

“I think he goes by Tom now, and he’s not so little.” Lee declared almost as if talking in her sleep. She sighed and smirked, almost frowned as she turned back around to look forward once more.

“Oh girl! I know that look… listen, you don’t need to be thinking about Tommy Branson, if he’s anything like his pa he’ll be nothing but trouble!” Deeny said with a frown and shook her head negatively. “He’s meaner than a snake! You steer clear of that Tommy, you hear?” Deeny turned to look at Lee to see if she was getting the message. She wasn’t or at least not taking it to heart anyway.

Lee kept her mouth shut but, in her mind, she was thinking that Tom wasn’t like that at all. He seemed almost shy most of the time. There was something about those deep brown eyes of his though, Lee knew she could get lost in them if she looked for very long. That wasn’t a problem though as she was just as shy if not more so that Tom seemed to be. She tended to hang around other more boisterous girls so that she didn’t have to interact much with other people.

The old blue Chevy pulled into the parking lot at the high school and then slowed to a stop at the curb near the front entrance. Other kids were standing in groups here and there, their own little social groups. Students were getting dropped off or unloading from the few buses that had already arrived that morning. Lee grabbed her books and opened the passenger side door to get out of the car. Closing the door, she leaned over to look through the window at her older sister.

“What time do you think you’ll get off work today?” Lee asked her sister as Deeny checked her teeth and smile in the rearview mirror.

“Same time as every day… whenever it slows down and they don’t need me at the diner.” Deeny said in a sarcastic slightly petulant voice bordering on whining. She turned to look at Lee and grinned.

“I’ll come pick you up here at the school after I get off work. Maybe we can stop and get an ice cream on the way home.” Deeny added with a softer smile, seeing Lee’s eyes light up and her own smile in return.

Lee stepped back away from the car and Deeny eased the clutch out and the old Chevy pulled away from the curb as she headed back out to the road. As the car turned out of the parking lot and onto the road, the old school bus they had passed on the way in was turning into the parking lot. Lee fiddled around with her books, stalling to wait and see Tom exit the bus along with a bunch of other kids.

Tom’s head was down, as it often was, as if he were lost in thought. His books were tied with a leather strap and slung over one shoulder as he plodded from the bus to the main entrance of the school. As he was approaching the doors, someone bumped his shoulder and his books slipped out and fell to the ground. Turning and bending to pick them up, Tom nearly knocked Lee over as she was attempting to pick up his books as well.



They both blushed a bit smiling self-consciously. Tom turned to pick up another book and Lee squatted down to pick up the last one. She raised her hand with the book as if to pass it to Tom. Her other hand was on the ground to stabilize herself. The book was taken from her hand and a hip bumped into her shoulder knocking her sprawling on the ground at Tom’s feet. The hip belonged to one miss Sylvia Redmond. She was smiling at Tom and handing him the book she took from Lee’s hand.

“Gracious! Lee! You should be more careful waddling around like a duck. I almost tripped over you!” Sylvia said with a look of surprise on her face that didn’t match the sneer in her voice.

“Here you go Tom. I think this belongs to you.” Sylvia said as she handed the book to Tom.

Tom smiled bashfully at Sylvia then turned and reached out a hand to offer help to Lee to get up from the ground. Lee turned from staring daggers at Sylvia to shyly smile as she took Tom’s offered hand. A look of peevish anger crossed Sylvia’s face, unseen by Tom however as his eyes were on Lee. Tom all but lifted Lee from the ground with one arm, his hand clasped in hers. Two of Sylvia’s friends stopped and elbowed next to her curiously taking in the action to see what was going on. Both girls, smirking as they knew Sylvia very well and knew that she had her eyes on Tom.

“What’s up Syl?” the freckled faced, curly red-haired Delores Bennet asked while popping her ever present chewing gum noisily, giving Lee a sidelong glance. She hugged her own load of books to her flat chest adding to the camouflage created by her frilly pink floral printed blouse over a barely knee length tartan skirt. Her knee-high socks giving way to black and white saddle shoes, one of which was tapping impatiently as if she was halfway annoyed at the hold up.

“Looks like someone took a tumble.” Rita Fuller, the second girl chirped as she twisted a stray lock of her straight blond hair around and around the index finger of her right hand. Her hair otherwise laying limply on her fuzzy white sweater covered shoulders. She too, wore a questionably short skirt of dark blue that was pleated much the way the cheerleader uniforms were. Her White knee-high socks might have come out of the same package as the ones Delores were wearing. The black and white saddle shoes she also wore might make people think it was some sort of uniform actually.

Sylvia looked at her friends, then tilted her head slightly to one side in question, turning to look behind her and around.

“Where’s Trina?” She asked.

Both girls shrugged their shoulders as if bored. About that time the first bell rang, and the crowds of students coming and going at the entrance and in the hallways sped up and headed towards their own designated classrooms. The three girls giggled in a mean way, if that’s possible, and headed off to their own first class.

Dusting her own skirt off hurriedly, Lee was still blushing a bit when Tom backed up in the opposite direction looking very distracted. And he too was blushing a little bit. Lee picked up her purse and her book satchel and smiled once more before she too bolted towards her first class.

“Bye.” She said nervously, not waiting to see if Tom would even respond.

Tom stood there like a statue for as long as it took Lee to make the turn into the next hallway and disappear. He then shook himself out of his fog and darted down the hall in the other direction to his first class.



***___***___

On the other side of town, near the interstate off ramp, the old faded blue chevy came to grinding halt as the dust from the gravel parking lot billowed up in a cloud around it. Deeny leaned over to see herself in the rearview mirror as she applied a little lipstick to her pursed lips. She was never one to wear much in the way of makeup, as she didn’t really need it, especially with the same blue eyes that she shared with her little sister, but she did like to draw attention to her lips. Those full, sensual lips that created such a beautiful smile when she cared to share it anyway. Plus, it was good for tips.

Deeny got out of the old car and brushed down the front of her uniform blouse and skirt. She still felt as if it were a little shorter than it needed to be but she was tired of arguing about it with Hank, the owner and manager of the diner. With everything in place, she walked across the parking lot to the front door and went inside. As always, it was usually busy this time of day, with a mix of locals and travelers off the interstate. Not all of the booths were occupied but nearly all the stools at the counter were.

Yvonne, an older but seasoned waitress herself, gave Deeny a fleeting smile, and a single eyebrow raised in silent question as she refilled a customer’s coffee cup.

“Good morning, Yvonne.” Deeny said as she rounded the end of the counter and wrapped a serving apron around her waist while looking at the order slips on the call wheel in the window to the kitchen behind the counter.

“I’m glad you could make it Deeny. Wish you could get here a little earlier of the morning though. I’ve had to deal with Bill all morning by myself.” Yvonne said as she replaced the coffee pot on the warmer.

“Bill? I thought he was on last night. Hank’s not here today?” Deeny wondered out loud, giving Yvonne a questioning look.

“Apparently, Hank had a bit of a late-night last night and wasn’t feeling very well this morning.” Yvonne stated with a harumph and a smirk on her face.

“I don’t suppose it would have anything to do with staying out late drinking, would it?” Deeny posed under her breath before she turned to the counter with a smile on her face and checked who needed refills of coffee or wanted to order anything else to eat.

“Chances are…” Yvonne said with that same smirk. Before adding, “I’m gonna go take fifteen. I gotta get off my tired achy feet for a few minutes’ girl, do you mind?”

“Not at all Yvonne, I got it.” Deeny smiled warmly at her fellow waitress as she shooed her away.

Yvonne smiled and swatted Deeny’s rump as she slipped past her, untying her apron before she even made it to the end of the counter. She grabbed her purse and went through the kitchen to the back door of the diner to step outside and take a seat on the steps beside the loading dock. Yvonne pulled out a leather cigarette purse and drew out a Virginia Slim and a lighter. One long draw after lighting up and she seemed to melt with the release of tension in her shoulders and neck.

Yvonne Louise Anderson, twice married, twice divorced and weary but wise beyond her years, was tired. Tired of so much bullshit and grab ass from so many men that she encountered almost daily before moving here to Helton Missouri. Mostly, she moved to get away from her last ex-husband if she were honest about it. But even before that, she knew she as much, if not more, liked the company of other women far more than she liked men. What was hard, though, was finding other women with the same likes and desires. She’d only met a few and even those relationships didn’t seem to last very long. Often, she thought to herself, it was because she tried to go too fast. She needed to be patient, to let things develop and grow between her and whoever she took a liking to in the future.

There was a bit of a lull later, other than keeping the endless coffees flowing, Deeny and Yvonne were chatting with the various customers when a familiar face walked in. Well, familiar to the locals anyway. The perpetual dazzling toothy grin and the bright blue eyes that seemed to take in everything but most notable at first glance would but the unruly head of bright red, almost orange hair. Anthony Leroy Cambrick, the newest member of the County Sheriff’s department. Cam to his friends and he seemed to think most everyone was his friend.

Cam had been the star quarterback in high school, just six years earlier. He had had the pick of all the girls in school it seemed but he had always taken a shine to Deeny who was two years his junior. She was his date for Cam’s Senior prom in fact. Seeing him, and that smile just made parts of Deeny tingle. With a snarky grin she walked down the counter to where he had just taken a stool.

“Hey hotshot… how’s things in the Sheriff’s office?” Deeny quipped as she took a towel and wiped the counter in front of Cam.

“Running me ragged today, wait, what day is this? I’ve been up so long I forgot.” Cam said with his perpetual smile even as he ran both hands down his face while stifling a yawn.

Now that she was closer to him, Deeny could see that Cam’s eyes looked tired, and she wondered why that was. Cam was only a rookie deputy on the Sheriff’s department. But then again, she guessed he would get stuck with a lot of busy work and shit jobs because of his lack of seniority in the department.

“You look tired Cam, what’s up?” Deeny said in a softer more concerned voice so as not to be overheard by the other patrons at the diner.

As she poured him a steaming cup of black coffee, Cam looked tiredly into her eyes, then glanced around the diner to see if anyone was listening in or paying overly much attention to him. As he turned back to her, Deeny was offering him a menu. Cam waved it away with his hand before leaning a little closer to speak to her quietly.



“I’m actually on the job. I was told to come here this morning and have a talk with Hank. The Sheriff sent me with some questions about last night.” Cam said with his head tilted slightly to one side as if waiting for an answer or comment from Deeny.

“I’m afraid you’re out of luck then. Hank didn’t come in this morning. Word is he wasn’t feeling very well today.” Deeny said in a quiet voice in response. Looking around herself to check for eavesdroppers, she continued… “We figured he was hungover from drinking too much or partying too much last night. It was poker night I think.” She said as if that explained everything.

“Order up!” Shouted Bill from the kitchen as he rang the pick-up bell in the window.

Deeny, motioned to Cam to wait a moment with her index finger raised on her right hand, before she turned and strode over to the order window and picked up the plate and read the ticket to double check it. She grabbed the carafe of coffee off the machine’s warming pad and headed to one of the booths near the door. In a couple of minutes, after stopping at two other tables to top off coffee cups, Deeny rounded the back of the counter and set the carafe back on its pad before coming back to Cam.

“Was there some sort of problem last night? Someone cheat at the game or something?” Deeny asked curious as to what would get Cam sent out to ask questions.

“I really shouldn’t say Deeny. It’s an ongoing investigation after all. Serious business.” He said with an almost embarrassed grin on his face.

“We just want to know where Hank was after the game broke up last night. There was a…” Cam grimaced as he caught himself about to give out some information that maybe he shouldn’t share.

One eyebrow rode up on Deeny’s slightly perplexed face as she wiped her hands on a towel distractedly. Hank was well known for his love of poker and, of course, drinking. He was almost as much of a lush as her own father. Wait… Was her father at the same poker game last night too? The odds of there being more than one illicit boozing poker game in this backwater county on the same night were slim at best. With a frown growing, out of unexplainable concern, Deeny tilted her own head while she pondered, then leaned closer to Cam.

“My father stumbled home drunker than a skunk late last night too. I’ll bet he was at the same game last night. You might get some answers from him, if he remembers anything.” Deeny said in a very quiet but hard voice.

Cam looked into her light blue eyes. The same eyes he had become lost in back in high school. Had he not gone off out of state to college there might have been something more between the two of them, Cam and Deeny. Momentary reminders of regrets of what might have been were fleeting however, as he was working. Breaking eye contact for a moment, Cam pulled out his little note pad and a pencil and jotted down a few lines to remember later.

“Do you think Hank will make it in at all today then?” Cam asked, sounding a little less tired than he had just a few minutes ago… but then it might have been the coffee to thank for that.

“I don’t know Cam. Bill stayed over to cover, but I don’t see him staying all day. So, yeah, I think Hank will make it in at some point today. When? I can’t tell you.” She said then paused and added. “Maybe you should go home and get a little sleep. It’s not like anyone’s been shot or anything.”

Cam’s head snapped up and his eyes locked on hers with questions as serious as any he had spoken earlier. Turning his head slightly to one side, he stared hard into Deeny’s eyes.

“I didn’t say anything about a shooting… what have you heard Deeny?” He asked guardedly, maintaining steady eye contact with hers.

“What? Only what you’ve told me and what we know, that Hank was at a poker game last night. Why? Was there a shooting last night? Who was it? Who got shot? Who do they think did it?” Deen asked, her blue eyes wide with shock and wonder as she leaned closer to Cam awaiting answers.

“I… I really can’t say Deeny… it’s an ongoing investigation…” Cam said, a little flustered.

Fishing a few coins out of his pocket and sliding them onto the counter, Cam stood up from the stool and put his pad and pencil in his breast pocket. Then he picked up his hat and nodded to Deeny telling her he’d see her later sometime, he had to get back to work. Deeny watched him leave the diner and go out to his patrol car.

A shooting in this county? Deeny shook her head at first but then figured if there was alcohol involved, and knowing her father and his seedy past… If he were involved that meant probably someone’s girl or wife might have been the reason for a shooting. But her father wasn’t shot, so maybe it wasn’t that. Shaking her head to rid herself of those thoughts, Deeny went back to work waiting on her customers.

Yvonne was just tying her apron back on as Deeny returned to start another pot of coffee. Deeny told her she just missed Cam. Yvonne’s eyes lit up and her eyebrows rose questioningly as she looked at Deeny.

“Girl… you’ve been down that road before… I hope you’re not thinking of what I’m thinking.” Yvonne said teasingly.

“Me?” Deeny said with a smirk looking Yvonne up and down. “More like you hope I’ll leave him be for you to do whatever you’re thinking.”

“What? And give up my favorite girl?” Yvonne said in a soft whisper close to Deeny’s ear as she swatted Deeny’s rump.

Deeny yelped a bit but giggled and shook her head as she headed back out to refill coffee cups and check if anyone wanted to order anything else.

Yvonne watched the younger girl go, her uniform skirt swishing with a little extra swing in the hips she thought. Shaking her head just a little she smiled to herself remembering that as tempting as Deeny might be, she was still very young and Yvonne shouldn’t rush anything with her. Past experience taught her that while most girls liked the flirting, taking it farther could be disastrous if rushed.

Deeny was sweet, but she was also smart as a whip and that was what attracted Yvonne in the first place. Patience, she told herself, patience. Yvonne could tell that Deeny had been hurt before, and might not be completely past that yet. She’d get the story out of the girl eventually… patience.

***___***___

Cam parked his old cruiser in the only remaining parking space outside of the county Sheriff’s office. Being the rookie of the department, he got all the leftovers as far as equipment and of course all the shit jobs to go with it all. Like this morning… well… last night running into this morning. He got a call at home off shift to come in and help out with this case.

He was sent around to several persons of interest to question their whereabouts and movements after a particular gathering ended up with a shooting. So far, Cam hadn’t really learned much worth mentioning but after stopping at the diner, he now had something to think about. It might be of interest to the Sheriff.

Old Betty, the eldest deputy Sheriff on the county payroll and long-time desk clerk or closest thing to a dispatcher that the department had, peered over her paperback romance novel. Her lit cigarette with half being just ash, dangled from the corner of her mouth. Those rummy glazed eyes followed Cam as he came through the door.

“The pup found his way back to the den huh?” Betty croaked with her heavy smoker gravelly voice.

“Now Betty, we’ve been over this. I’m not a pup.” Cam grumbled as he walked past her desk on his way to the Sheriff’s office down the hall.

“Sure, you are, pup. You look like you could use a nap too.” Betty added as she went back to reading her book.

“I won’t argue that point.” Cam said as he tried to stifle a yawn just before he knocked on the Sheriff’s office door.

“Come!” The Sheriff’s voice barked on the other side of the door.

Cam opened the door and entered the office. Sheriff Gerald Potter was the name painted on the glass of the door and on the little name plate sitting on the front of the desk. The desk what was piled high with loose pages of reports and files almost as high as the butts in the ashtray sitting on top of some of them. The Sheriff was resting his mostly bald head on his left hand that still loosely held a burning cigarette. His elbow propped up on another stack of file folders on his desk.

The Sheriff looked as worn out and tired as Cam felt, he thought to himself. Quietly standing at rest before the desk as the Sheriff continued to write on a report form that held his attention. Finally, the Sheriff finished whatever he was writing and dropped the pen on the desk top. He brought both hands to his face and rubbed his tired eyes before dragging them down his face. Remembering the cigarette in his hand he brought it to his mouth and took one more long drag before grinding it out in the overflowing ash tray.

“Okay, what have you got kid?” He asked in a tired gravelly voice before looking up at Cam with his steely light blue eyes, a family trait that they both shared.

Cam pulled his little notebook from his breast pocket and opened it up. Frowning at a thought, he looked up at the Sheriff’s steady if bleary gaze and turned to step over to the door and close it before turning again to address the man.

“I don’t have much worth mentioning, Uncle Gerry, but I have a lead that you might want to follow up on.” Cam said while looking a little embarrassed.

“What the hell is that supposed to mean? And you know that when we are at work, you’re to call me Sheriff, or Sir. I don’t care if you’re my sister’s boy or not, you get no preferential treatment from me, is that clear?”

Somewhat abashed by the older man’s harsh words, Cam stood a little straighter and looked as though he were going to say something in return. Instead, he frowned and lowered his eyes to his notebook before nodding his understanding.

“Well? Spit it out boy.” The Sheriff prodded.

“Again, The three suspects… I mean persons of interest… I was able to track down and interview about the poker party last night all said they had left earlier and didn’t know anything about an argument or a shooting.” Cam said then took a deep breath afterwards then closed his note pad. He crossed arms at the wrists in front of his waist at the buckle for his utility/gun belt.

“That’s it? That’s the lead I should follow up on?” The Sheriff asked while giving Cam a perturbed glare.

“No… Sir. When I stopped at the diner this morning, to interview Hank, I found that he had called in sick. But I also learned that he had been to the same card game or party with Duke Simmons.” Cam said, glancing up to catch his uncle’s reaction.

“Oh, you did, huh? Well did you follow up on that lead and go talk to Duke?” The Sheriff asked with one raised eyebrow.

“No Sir. I figured you might want to do that yourself, as there is a bit of history between the two of you.” Cam said quietly so as to ensure that it was not heard outside the office. The older man’s eyes bored into his for a few moments.

The Sheriff looked away and grimaced a bit before reaching for another cigarette, fidgeting really. He puffed himself up and after a moment of thought he turned his attention back to Cam.

“Okay, Cam. I guess because you are family you would know a little bit about that, but don’t you repeat that to anyone else. If nothing else, it might cloud this investigation. Alright, I’ll go see Duke and see what I can find out from him. Go home and get some sleep.” Gerald said and he stood up and stubbed out the cigarette in the ash tray and reached for his hat.

Cam turned to leave and was reaching for the door knob when his uncle spoke again behind him.

“I mean it, Cam. Don’t mention anything about Duke, or about… well… you know. None of that needs to be brought up again… ever.” He spoke with a low rumbling voice that sounded like distant thunder in Cam’s ears.

“Yes Sir.” Was all Cam said before he turned the knob and opened the door and walked out.

***___***___

“Miss Wainwright?” the receptionist at the waiting room desk called, one hand writing on her ledger, the other giving a come here motion, the phone still cradled between her ear and her shoulder.

Trina looked up with a worried expression on her face, her soft brown eyes were puffy and red. She rose from the rough and worn fabric covered chair in the emergency department waiting room in Kansas City, and crossed the room on shaky legs. Her whole body shaky really, mostly from anxiety and worry over her mother. It’d been a long night, and it wasn’t over yet.

“Okay… I’ll send her on back… uh huh… okay.” The receptionist said into the phone before hanging up and looking up at Trina’s worried face.

“They said you can go on back to the recovery room. Just down this hallway to door four on the right.” She informed Trina while pointing down the hall.

Trina thanked the lady and nervously clutching her purse in both hands in front of her, she shuffled uncertainly down the hall looking for the recovery room she’d been directed to find. A nurse was stepping out of the room as she arrived at the door. The nurse smiled and held the door for her and motioned for Trina to go on in.

Inside the room, Trina found her mother lying on her side facing the doorway. Her eyes were swollen and her cheeks were reddened and tear stained from crying. When she saw Trina standing there she grimaced and closed her eyes in shame as her bottom lip began to quiver as if she were about to start crying, again.

“Momma?” Trina queried hesitantly, still clutching her purse to her chest as she edged into the room towards her mother’s bed.

Trina’s hand shook and her own lower lip trembled as she saw her mother laying on her side facing her. The hospital gown that closed in the back was partially undone, from the waist down her mother’s bottom hung out. Not that it was bare, it was in fact covered with a massive bandage wrapping that almost looked like a diaper. Trina knew it wasn’t a diaper however, as she had had to hold a blood sodden hand towel to her mother’s backside until she could sit down in the passenger seat of her father’s car. Trina had then driven from their home in Helton all the way to Kansas City to the emergency room of the hospital.

Technically, Trina should not have been driving, she didn’t even have a license yet, but she’d known how to drive for years, driving the tractors and trucks used on the farm. More importantly, she shouldn’t have had to drive her mother, her father should have been driving. But then, he was kind of the reason they had to go to the hospital to begin with.

Why did her parents and their friends have to drink so much Trina wondered for the thousandth time. Someone always got angry when there was gambling involved. Poker, or Gin Rummy, or any other game they played when they got together. Someone always flirted too much or said things to anger someone else. Tonight, or last night, was no different. What was different was that someone got shot! Trina’s mom!

“Momma?” Trina asked again, trying to get her mother to look at her. She was so worried.

“Why…” Trina began to ask but she was cut off by her mother’s words.

“I… I don’t want to talk about it right now… Please baby, just let it be for now.” Vivian Wainwright pleaded softly with her daughter. The shame and sorrow leaking into her voice with every word.

Vivian’s wound was more embarrassing than life threatening. A bullet wound to her left butt cheek. The meaty rump had stopped the small caliber .22 bullet. For a gunshot wound it was a pretty clean wound. That’s not to say it wasn’t going to hurt when the pain medications they had injected her with wore off. The sutures they had closed the wound with would be a pain in the… well… butt, till it healed and they could come out.

Allowing her mom to remain silent and not demanding to know what happened, Trina took her mother’s hand and squeezed it briefly before having a seat in the chair beside the bed. Vivian just continued to frown and her eyes remained closed. Trina leaned her own head on her arm that was resting on the side of the bed as she continued holding her mother’s hand. Tears once more filled her eyes as she squeezed them shut trying to block out what she did know of the night that brought them to this place.

***___***___

Sheriff Potter’s patrol car slowed to a stop before turning into the gravel driveway leading up to Hank Lipscomb’s doublewide trailer. The car’s tires crunching the gravel as he eased to a stop outside the trailer. The once nice exterior had been let go for so long that it looked twenty years older than it really was. The add-on wooden deck porch sagged on the end opposite the steps leading up to it. Sheriff Potter shook his head in tired resignation as he stubbed out the cigarette that he had been smoking. He then turned off the car and grabbed his hat before opening the door and getting out.

An old tired looking hound dog raised his head off his front paws and looked at the Sheriff with bloodshot eyes nearly as tired looking as the Sheriff’s. The dog halfheartedly thumped his tail on the deck as he wagged it while yawning once. The tired old fella had seen the Sherriff many times before and didn’t make a sound as he mounted the three steps from the drive up to the porch. Sheriff Potter bent over and reached down to scratch the old hound behind the ears for a moment. The dog took a deep breath and grunted a couple of times as if in thanks then laid his head back down and seemingly went right back to sleep.

Gerald stood back up and shook his head sadly yet again before taking two more steps over to the door and raised his hand to pound on the frame beside the door. No sense in even bothering with the doorbell, not if Hank was as drunk as he suspected. Hell, it might take something like a stick of dynamite going off outside his bedroom window to wake him up. But then Hank might not have even made it to his bed.

The Sheriff hung his head as he waited to see if the pounding had roused his old friend. He was trying to remain patient but that was just about worn too thin to last. After a couple of more minutes passed, Gerald raised his hand again and pounded on the door frame and shouted Hank’s name. The old dog groaned and stirred a few feet away but didn’t get up.

Just as he raised his hand for a third time to pound on the door… the door opened inward. A disheveled and obviously hung-over Hank Lipscomb stood staring with squinting bloodshot eyes, his face was covered in bruises and had dried blood under one nostril of his nose and one corner of his mouth. Hank’s wife beater tee shirt may have been white once upon a time but was now stained with who knows what besides a few spatters of blood. The blood, undoubtedly was his own.

“Gerald? What the hell do you want man?” Hank grumbled in an irritated gravelly voice befitting the obvious hangover he was suffering with.

“God Hank! You look like shit! Got any coffee?” The Sherriff asked as he pushed past Hank and turned right, towards the kitchen.

“Sure…come on in.” Hank mumbled mockingly as he grimaced from the sound of his own voice making his headache that much worse.

Sheriff Potter looked around the compact kitchen that was no better off than the outside of the trailer. Empty beer cans here and there, dirty dishes in the sink and even on the little table beside the bay window at that end of the trailer. He picked up the kettle off the stove and shook it, then crossed to the sink and turned on the water to fill it at least half way. Putting the kettle back on the stove and turning it on as Hank shuffled into the kitchen and plopped down into one of the chairs at the table. Hank groaned as he put his elbows on the table and cradled his face in his hands.

Gerald Potter and Hank Lipscomb had known one another most all of their lives. They went to school together from the first day of first grade through the end of their senior year of high school. Gerald had been drafted into the Army straight out of high school. Hank had been too but was sent home when a physical determined that he was unfit for service.

They were apart for years after that. Gerald serving his four years, then going to college and then the police academy. Hank, worked whatever part time or odd job he could get, going from one job to another with nothing seeming to sink in. That is, until he got hired on as a cook at a restaurant in Kansas City. Hank discovered that not only could he cook but that he liked it. When the new diner here in Helton opened up many years ago, Hank was one of the first employees. He got to be good at his job and was well liked by both the customers and his boss.

While Gerald got his college degree and then his certificate from the police academy, Hank was beginning to think about starting his own business, a restaurant. The problem with Hank though, was that he liked to party as much as he liked to cook. When Gerald had been around when they were younger, he had helped to keep Gerald out of trouble. He would be his friend’s voice of reason and a very vocal conscience when needed. Without him though, Hank fell in with more questionable people. More than once he had ended up in the local jail for public intoxication or for fighting. That was where Gerald found Hank the first time, he returned to Helton, many years ago.

Gerald had worked as a deputy for the Sheriff’s department in Kansas City right out of the police academy. A year later, however, he found out that the Sheriff’s department in Helton was looking to hire a couple of deputies. Gerald came home. His first day on the job, still riding with the Sheriff as a probationary deputy, he got to do the paperwork for the arrest and incarceration of his old friend Hank.

After Hank was released, Gerald took him down to the diner for coffee and to catch up on things. They talked about where they had been and what they had done over the years. Gerald learned that Hank had been in many fights, usually after drinking too much and usually over a woman…or gambling… or sometimes both. Much like he suspected might have happened last night. Old habits are hard to break.

Hank wasn’t always this pathetic though. Sure, he had been in trouble more times than most but for the most part he was pretty reliable. Certainly, he could cook and was more than capable of running a diner. So, when the previous owner felt it was time to retire and move to Florida, he made Hank and offer to buy the diner from him. At first Hank was not so sure about it. Not that he was afraid of running the diner, but rather that he didn’t think he could afford the buying price that the owner was asking. Rather than let Hank say no, however, the owner suggested he look into getting a loan before deciding against it.

Hank probably wouldn’t have gotten the loan by himself, as some of the people in town knew of his troubled past and some had connections that were still not at all pleased with him to start with. One being the chief loan officer at the bank. That’s where Gerald stepped in and once more helped his old friend. Gerald had co-signed for a loan for the asking price of the diner.

Suddenly Hank was a business owner and for a long time he straightened up and flew right. Business was good and in two years’ time he had paid off the loan. But once the loan was paid off, something changed in Hank, still being single and not having many prospects, and working long hours day after day, he became despondent. He began drinking again, and he started spending time with the wrong kind of people again.

“So, tell me about this card game you went to last night.” Gerald said as he examined a couple of coffee cups to see if they were clean, or clean enough for coffee anyway. He grimaced and found a clean spoon in one of the drawers.

“Just some friends having fun…” Hank mumbled through his hands still holding his face.

Gerald set the mugs and the spoon on the table and looked through the debris on the counter beside the sink, moving dirty dishes and beer cans aside till he found what he was looking for, a jar of instant coffee. It was an off brand of course, and probably stale at that. He brought that over to the table as well before taking a seat across the table from Hank.

“Hank… Fun doesn’t usually end with someone getting shot. What the hell happened out there at the shed last night?” Gerald rumbled with subdued annoyance. He was biting back his anger knowing that it would not be conducive to getting the information he needed from Hank.

Hank groaned again and leaned back in his chair to stare up at the ceiling. Well, to stare as best as one could with their eyes closed anyway. Gerald opened the coffee jar and spooned out two heaping spoonsful to each of the coffee mugs. Hearing the water begin to boil in the kettle, he stood up and went to the stove to get it. Back at the table he poured the water into the mugs and set it back on the stove. Resuming his seat, he stirred the coffee in each mug and slid one over in front of Hank.

“Ger… I don’t know… I mean… Ah shit man!” Hank moaned, grimacing at the sound of his own voice again. Opening his eyes, he saw the mug in front of him and reached for it. With shaky hands he brought the steaming liquid to his face and sniffed long and hard before squinting his eyes open to look at his old friend.

“Hank, I have it on good authority that Duke was at that same party.” Gerald said with one lone eyebrow arching upwards as he held his own mug of coffee in both hands, his elbows propped up on the table.

“Yeah, he was there.” Hank confirmed just before he took a tentative sip of the instant brew. Once it hit is taste buds though, he grimaced again almost as much as from the sound of his voice in his hangover plagued head.

“Who else was there?” Gerald pressed, still blowing on his coffee, still in no hurry to taste the foul stuff.

“Let me think… There was me, Duke, Darrel Johns, Henry Willis, and Walt. The usual poker guys.” Hank said before taking another sip of his coffee, and grimacing again.

“So, did someone cheat? Was that how tempers got short? An argument or a fight?” Gerald asked in rapid fire now that Hank was talking.

Hank opened one eye fully, well, both might have opened but one was a bit swollen so that wasn’t happening. He took a long deep breath and rolled his head around on his neck causing the bones to snap and crackle. He worked his jaw opened and closed and side to side. Gerald could see Hank’s tongue running around his teeth with his mouth closed as if counting his teeth. Satisfied they were all there, he took another sip of the coffee.

“No. The card game was civil enough. Sure, there were some pissed off assholes when they lost some money but no fights or anything. It was after the game that things got shitty. Darrel and Henry had already gone home, a little lighter than when they had got there too.” Hank said with a pained grin.

“And after the game was over?” Gerald nudged verbally hoping to get this over with sooner rather than later. He was tired and this excuse for coffee was more like battery acid on his already fitful stomach.

Hank set his coffee mug down and leaned back again in his chair and ran one hand over his face resignedly. Leaning back forward again to put his elbows on the table top and clasp his hand around his coffee mug, he looked up at Gerald and asked.

“Got any more cigarettes? I need a smoke.”

Gerald reached for his breast pocket and pulled out a pack of Marlboros and extracted a cigarette for himself before tossing the pack across the table. From another pocket he produced his old zippo lighter that he had purchased when he was a green recruit in the Army many years ago. He lit first his cigarette then extended his arm across the table for Hank to lean in and light his smoke as well. When they both settled back and took a long draw of their cigarettes, Gerald looked his old friend in the face and raised one eyebrow again in an unspoken signal to continue with his story.

***___***___

Vivian had watched these little gatherings for years. An excuse for grown men to get together and get drunk and tell their tall tales and brag about their exploits. Oh sure, they’d play cards and gamble and win and lose. More often than not however, her Walter would lose. He was not very skilled or talented in most things in life, particularly at playing poker. It didn’t help that he drank more than he should. It was as if he were competing in a stupidity contest and was determined to win at all costs. Well tonight he was winning… at the stupidity anyway.

Walt was a good man, generally speaking. He was a loving father and a good provider most of the time, but when he got to drinking and especially when he was in the company of Hank Lipscomb and Duke Simmons it was as if he lost his senses. His senses, or at least his common sense anyway. The more he drank the stupider he got, and the stupider he got, the more money he would lose.

Hank had always been fond of Vivian, he had dated her briefly back when they were all in school together, a lifetime ago it seemed. Vivian had taken a shine to Walter and the rest is history. Mostly. She would still flirt with the rest of the guys now and then and Hank had to wonder if there was more to it than that. Duke never seemed to worry or think about such things though.

Duke Simmons was the undisputed playboy of the crowd. He was and always had been a lady killer. He could sweet talk a nun out of her habit and into his bed they all joked. It was no joke though, rumors had it that he had done just that at least on one occasion. Yeah, Duke was not welcomed at the local Catholic church.

As the night wore on, and the drinking got heavier, the card game got hotter. Hank seemed to be winning, at least at cards, this night. Hand after hand he would drag his winnings into a pile in front of him. And the more Walt lost, the more he would drink. Vivian was beside herself because no matter what she said to him he just kept on getting stupider and drunker. He didn’t even seem to notice that Duke was flirting even more than usual with her that night. So, Vivian did something that was out of character for her. She drank too.

Vivian drank mostly to take the edge off of her frustration and anger at Walt. Or that was the idea anyway. What happened was the alcohol might have dulled her anger a bit, but it didn’t wash it away. What the alcohol did exceedingly well, however, was spark a latent interest in what Duke was saying and doing to get her attention. All the while Walt seemed to be oblivious to it, she might as well have been a stranger to him. That angered Viv even more.

Hank saw it developing, the attention that Vivian was paying to Duke’s flirtation and inuendo. It started as looks, then words… and eventually even touching. Duke just has this way about him that women seemed to crave. Vivian seemed particularly hungry for attention this night so it was nearly a foregone conclusion that there would be fireworks.

Walter was seething. Not so much about Duke and his wife flirting, to that he was almost completely blind, rather he was angry for losing, again. Walt couldn’t remember the last time he’d had a good night playing cards with his so-called friends. He might win a hand now and then but, in the end, he would always seem to walk away from the game with far less than he’d began with.

Outside the crickets and cicadas filled the hot humid night air with their insectile chorus, joined by the occasional calls of night birds. Inside the “shed” were the rough loud voices of five men and several women. The women were Vivian, Janine, Darrel John’s wife, and Tessa, Henry Willis’s latest girlfriend. The air inside was oppressive from both the heat, despite all the windows being open and the screen door. The shaded light hanging over the poker table left a lot of the room in shaded darkness but the portion well-lit was clouded with the thick smoke of cigarettes and Darrel’s cigar. The air reeked from the smoke… and the stale smells of alcohol and sweat.

Anyone not drinking or smoking would have nearly gagged or choked, wanting fresh air, yet the whole group didn’t seem to notice. There were other things happening that held their attentions, the card game, the jokes and lies being shared, the flirtatious innuendos… and inevitably, the tempers rising from those who were not winning.

After several hours of losing Darrel and Henry had had enough. They collected their women and departed, begrudgingly agreeing to meet again sometime for another game. The game was pretty much over at this point, but things were just about to get hotter. Duke excused himself to step outside and relieve himself of some of the beer and scotch he’d been drinking all night. Hank began to count his winnings while Walt sat and fumed, nursing yet another glass of scotch, his eyes bloodshot already.

Duke had winked at Vivian and gave a little head nod to her as if to say “Would you like to join me?” as he stood to walk around the table and then to the door. Vivian, as mentioned, was already feeling no pain herself, and highly pissed at Walt for losing so much money, again. With bleary eyes and a bit of a sneering grin she too stood and went outside.

Outside, Duke was at one end of the small covered wooden porch, one hand leaning on the weathered corner post, the other supposedly holding himself as he urinated off the porch. His back was to Vivian, but he looked over his shoulder with his patented knowing smile and a spark in his eyes.

“Oh darlin! I’m glad you came to help me. I was afraid this thing was going to get away from me. I’m barely able to keep it under control you know. It’s been thinking of you all night, nudging my leg to get my attention trying to talk to you to hear your pretty voice.” Duke spoke softly, almost as if singing.

“Now Duke, I know you are just full of piss and vinegar. Do you honestly expect me to fall for a line like that? How long have I known you? I’ve seen what you get up to with women of questionable morals and even less common sense.” Vivian said with a chuckle in her voice.

Duke just smiled and shrugged slowly, still not turning away even as he finished emptying his bladder and shaking off his notably sized man snake. Instead of tucking it back away in his trousers however, he just turned around and faced Vivian who was leaning her right shoulder and body against the next porch post down. Her eyes left his face and traveled down his body to witness his brazen display. Those very eyes widened at first, then narrowed as thoughts flashed through her heated and alcohol infused brain. She unconsciously licked her lips as stories that she’d heard from other women finally had concrete evidence pointing halfheartedly at her.

Duke stepped closer to her, his hands on his own hips as he tilted his head slightly to one side as if judging Vivian’s reaction or perhaps his chances at taking advantage of an opportunity. The happy feeling of warmth and excitement coursed through his veins carried along by the alcohol. It was a feeling that he was all too familiar with, it got him into all kinds of trouble through the years but even still he couldn’t stop himself. Looking once more into Vivian’s eyes when she did look back up at him, he saw the desire, the curiosity there, the look that he was happy to acknowledge and explore.

Vivian half turned to better face Duke as he leaned closer and brought his right hand up to gently brush some of her loose dirty blond hair out of her face and back behind her ear. Their faces were inches apart now, and the breath they shared became heated. Vivian half closed her eyes and she tilted her head back and up, and slightly to one side as Duke leaned closer and brought his lips to hers.

This was the first kiss Vivian had shared with any man other than her Walter since they had wed just over 18 years earlier. Walt had never been much of a kisser, but the chills she got when Duke’s lips met hers literally made her forget about any comparison of the two. For that instant, Walt didn’t even exist, there was only Duke. She felt his right hand gently cup the back of her head at the nape of her neck, drawing her ever tighter into their kiss. Duke’s left hand was gently holding Vivian’s right side, just under her rib cage, also pulling her closer to his body. Vivian’s knees grew weak and she realized she was trembling.

Trembling and curious, while the kissing was enough to make her forget to breathe, her curiosity was in overdrive, her hands searched out and found Duke. Or rather, her hands found part of Duke, the part that she’d heard so many stories about, the part that she had finally seen for herself just moments ago. Wrapping both hands around it, she could feel it growing in her grip.

Duke’s own breath caught when he felt Vivian’s hands wrap around his manhood and grip him tightly. He smiled inwardly as he knew the game was on. There were no more bluffs or gambles to be made for this hand, only the call.

“Oh Darlin, your hands are so soft… but not as soft or sweet as your lips.” He purred as he slid his own lips across Vivian’s cheek and nuzzled her ear and neck while he slipped his right hand down her back to come to rest on her left side.

“And you’re so hard…” Viv gasped as Duke sucked at the skin of her neck just below her left ear. The tingles and thrill ran through her whole body causing her to shudder in delight. The light stubble on his cheeks feeling rough on her delicate skin. His breath was hotter and more humid than even the night air.

“I would love to feel your softness there. Those lips… that tongue… Oh darlin, you could make a grown man cry.” Duke purred and then continued kissing and nuzzling Viv’s neck and ear as his hands very subtly gripped and pulled downwards on her hips.

Vivian was still trembling, both from excitement and from a touch of anxiety. She knew instantly what Duke was hinting at. In a way that was refreshing as Walter would not hint or make it her decision. When Walter wanted her to go down on him, he would flat out tell her he wanted a blowjob or to suck his cock. Like it was her duty not her decision. For that reason alone, she hated doing that for Walt. But Duke gave that decision to her. The corners of her lips pulled up from her still open mouth to form a smile.

Duke released his grip on Vivian’s hips as she slowly sank down to her knees in front of him. Her hands never left his now fully engorged and erect cock. Looking up at Duke with a face that was at the same time partly embarrassed, partly curious and very much aroused, Vivian leaned forward and gently kissed the head of his cock. Duke smiled down at her and then his eyes closed as she opened those lips and drew the head into her hot wet mouth.

Inside the shed Hank had just finished counting his winnings and was taking another long draw off the beer he was drinking. Walter had drained the last of his scotch from the glass he held and after turning it up and looking at it crossly he drew back and hurled the empty glass across the room to shatter against the wall in the shadows. Hank looked over at his old friend with one eyebrow raised even as he drank from his bottle of beer.

“Aw come one Walt, don’t be sore, you’ll have better luck next time.” Hank said as he wiped his lips on the wrist of his hand holding the bottle before setting it down on the table.

“Bullshit! I never seem to win. I’m beginning to think that someone cheats. Maybe more than someone… like it’s a team thing.” Walt said sitting back in his chair with his arms crossed on his chest, his face dark with suspicion and anger, fire in his bleary eyes. Eyes that were nearly obscured by greasy long back bangs that fell across his forehead.

“Are you saying that I cheated Walt? You know that’s not true, come on! How long have we known each other? Damn man! How long have we all been playing poker for God’s sake?” Hank said with an edge in his voice as his temper was changing from happiness to being pissed off in a hurry.

“All I know is that you and Duke always seem to do pretty well when it comes to poker. Funny that, huh? He’d probably do better if he weren’t chasing pussy so much, wouldn’t he?” Walt spat out with almost a growl.

Hank had had just about enough of Walt’s insinuations. Friend or not, he wasn’t going to stand for being called a cheat after winning fair and square. He stood up gripping the empty beer bottle and for a brief moment considered hurling it at Walt, but he calmed himself and let it go to fall over and roll off the edge of the table to shatter on the floor. Instead, he picked up his pile of bills and folded them and slid them in his front pocket. This seemed to anger Walt even more as he too stood up and placed his hands flat on the table and leaned over it towards Hank leering.

“That’s right. Take the money and run.” Walt growled even as he stood unsteadily across the table from Hank.

“Walt, your drunk and a sore loser. Go home and go to bed. That’s where I’m going, home.” Hank said as he turned to move to the door.

Enraged beyond reason, Walt flipped the overflowing square glass ashtray that sat on the table beside his hand towards Hank’s back. The spent cigarette butts and ashes flew everywhere on its flight from the table to Hank’s back. It hit him on edge, a corner breaking the skin just below his right shoulder blade. It hurt. It might not have hurt more than a punch being thrown but the fact that his friend, angry or otherwise, had done it, hurt even more. It also angered him.

“What the hell! Have you lost your damned mind Walt?” Hank spat as he spun back to face his assailant only to find Walter charging him from the other side of the table.

Before he could raise his arms in his own defense Walter had already thrown a punch. The punch connected to Hank’s face with a glancing blow, hard enough to cause him to stumble backwards and through the flimsy screen door. Outside on the porch, Hank came to a halt with his back slamming up against the post beside the steps. Walt was charging through the remnants of the screen door after him but both came to a sudden stop as they saw what was going on just a few feet away from them.

Feeling weak in the knees from the glorious feeling of Vivian’s hot mouth and soft lips and that wicked, wicked tongue of hers in action, Duke had to take a seat lest he fall down. Fortunately, there was an old glider swing there on the porch next to the wall. Duke had unfastened his belt and britches and lowered them down to his knees before sitting down. Vivian never stood up, but rather crawled the two steps over to the glider and pushed Duke’s britches the rest of the way down to his ankles before gobbling up his still raging erection. It was there, on her hands and knees, her head in Duke’s crotch that Hank and her husband Walt saw them when they erupted onto the porch fighting.

There was a long moment of awkward silence. Well, silence by all except Duke, he groaned rather loudly when Vivian paused her suction on his manhood even if it was still in her mouth while she looked up at her husband. Walt stood there, his body facing Hank, hands and arms raised as if to swing another blow, his face aghast to the point of near incomprehension at seeing Vivian, HIS WIFE, kneeling in the act of a blow job on Duke Simmons. It’s not that Walt had not seen Duke on the receiving end of such things before, but NEVER from his wife. HIS WIFE!

Time seemed to stand still for a few brief heartbeats. But at the same time, it flashed by, at least in Walter’s mind. There was a rage, already boiling over because he thought he had been cheated at the card game, but now, seeing his own wife cheating on him like this… it was too much. Walt drove his right hand into his front trouser pocket and drew out a pistol. It was a small pistol, but a very real one, and it was loaded.

To Hank, time was still moving in slow motion. He could see the rage on his old friend’s face go from fire and vengeance against him, change into something far more hateful and sinister towards Duke and his wife. When Walt drew the pistol out of his pocket and began to raise it in their direction, he knew that he had to stop it. Still seemingly moving in slow motion, he reached out, charging Walt to try to divert his aim before he fired. As Hank collided with Walt the gun went off.

The first sound after the shot was the sound of Walt’s body slamming into the door frame of the shed. He expelled a loud grunt as the wind was knocked out of him from Hank’s body slam that drove him into the frame. Then came the sharp inhale from Vivian, just before she let loose with a scream of pain.

Hank managed to grab Walt’s right army by the wrist. When he wrenched the arm, the small pistol went clattering across the porch before dropping off the edge into the weeds. Walt retaliated with another wild blow with his left hand that caught Hank on the side of his face. The punch landed with enough force that Hank staggered back away from Walt. By then Duke was standing and bent over Vivian who was gasping and crying in pain. When Duke raised his right hand, it was wet and slick with red blood. He fell backwards because his trousers were still around his ankles. Luckily, he landed in a sitting position back on the glider.

Walt, saw the blood on Duke’s hand, and the growing blood stain on Vivian’s sun dress, and panicked. Walt bolted, a staggering run really, off the porch and into the darkness beyond the weak oasis of light put out by the bare lightbulb over the now destroyed screen door of the shed. Hank shook his head to clear the fuzzy cobwebs and to focus his eyes again. He looked at Vivian rolled up into a ball on the floor of the porch, and then the abject shock on Duke’s face sitting there on the glider, his pants still down but his cock gone soft and hanging limply as he looked at his bloodied hand.

***___***___

Gerald leaned back in his chair at the small table in Hank’s trailer. His hands, together as he scrubbed his face a few times before returning to the table as he took a long deep breath. Another drunken poker game that got out of hand. Of course, the involvement of Duke Simmons was no surprise either. Gerald had known Duke most of his life as well, they were all well acquainted if not friends from as far back as grade school. Hank rested his tired head on the palm of his left hand, propped up with his elbow on the tabletop. Hank’s right resting on the table, the hand loosely holding a nearly expended cigarette over the overflowing ashtray in front of him.

“So, Walt got mad because he lost money in the game. That’s not surprising… seeing his wife giving Duke a blow job would have only made that worse. I wouldn’t have thought Walt would go so far as to shoot her though.” Gerald said tiredly as he studied his old pal, Hank.

“I don’t think he meant to shoot Viv, Ger. I think he was going to shoot Duke. But his aim was off because I rushed him. I guess it’s my fault really. I felt bad for her.” Hank said with the taint of sorrow in his voice.

“Yeah, that doesn’t take much effort to believe, but still, I need to find him and find out for sure. I need to ask Vivian if she wants to press charges. Guess I’ll be making a trip into Kansas City this morning. Damn!” Gerald said tiredly as he reached for another cigarette in his breast pocket.

“I drove Vivian and Duke to Walt and Viv’s house… she was bleeding pretty badly but I had taken my shirt off so she could use it to press into the wound to slow the bleeding. Duke was in the back seat with a full bottle of scotch that he snatched before we left the shed.” Hank told Gerald in an almost dreamlike tone as if he were barely awake.

“You didn’t take her to the hospital?” Gerald asked leaning back forward to pick up his lighter and light his cigarette.

“Nah, I offered to but she said it wouldn’t be right. She had me roust her kid, Trina. The girl drove Viv to Kansa City in their own car. After they drove off, I took Duke to his place. I dropped him off at the end of the lane and let him walk the rest of the way home. I sure as hell didn’t want to tangle with Caroline. She’s Hell on wheels when she’s mad, and I knew she would be mad as hell when Duke got home. If I had to answer to her and tell her what happened…” Hank visibly shuddered then looked up at Gerald questioningly.

“Yeah, I see your point. I’m sure Duke caught hell as it was, if she knew the rest, there might have been two shootings last night.” Gerald agreed with gallows humor, the smirk on his tired face showing his understanding.

Standing up wearily, Gerald stretched his arms overhead and leaned back to the sounds of his back crackling and popping. He groaned softly before straightening back up and reaching for his lighter that rested on the table. After he picked up his hat, Gerald stopped beside his still seated friend and placed one hand on his shoulder briefly.

“Get some sleep Hank, you look awful.” He said and grinned at the rolling eyed expression Hank gave him when he looked up at Gerald.

“I was trying to do that when you came pounding on my door.” Hank grumped as he rubbed both hands over his swollen and grimy face.

At the door, Gerald turned back to Hank and asked:

“Any idea where Walt wondered off to?”

“Well, him and Viv came to the shed in his truck. I don’t think he was sober enough to start it last night, but he may have sobered up by now. Check at his house. If not, he might still be at the shed or on one of the other shanties around the lake.” Hank told him.

“Okay, I guess we’ll just have to look for him, eventually.” Gerald said as he pulled the door closed behind him and put his hat on as he stood on the tilted front porch of Hank’s trailer. The old dog groaned and thumped his tail a couple of times before taking a deep breath and letting out a canine equivalent of a sigh, then went back to sleep.

“Yeah pal, I wish I were in your place right now.” Gerald thought to himself as he eyed the old dog, then went down the steps and crossed to his patrol car to get in.

***___***___

The bell for second period sounded and the rustling sounds of papers and books being slammed shut as students stood up to leave their desks and exit the classroom. The murmuring sound of various conversations rose along with the shuffling of feet on the cold tile flooring that echoed from the hallway. Tom was one of the last to rise from his desk, his stomach growled as he caught a tantalizing whiff of lunch being prepared and served in the cafeteria.

It was lunch time, and on this day, like many others, he had no money for food. He’d had to rush to leave home in time to catch the bus so he had brought nothing to eat with him. Stopping outside the cafeteria at the water fountain, Tom drank a lot more water than would be normal. He was trying to fill his empty stomach to keep it from growling in the middle of his next class. Rather than go into the cafeteria and be tormented by the smell of the food being served, Tom opted to go outside and sit in the sun on the front steps of the main entrance. Something he’d done on many occasions, for the exact same reason.

Lee was just coming out of the girl’s restroom across the hall from the cafeteria when she saw Tom push out the front doors. Seeing Silvia and her sycophant sorority entering the cafeteria helped Lee come to a decision. Clutching her paper bag that held her own lunch, she turned towards the front doors as well.

Pushing through the doors, Lee saw that Tom had taken a seat half way down the steps and was sitting on the flat of the side retainer wall on that side of the steps. Stepping down slowly, one step at a time. Lee stopped in front of him, Tom looked up to see who it was.

“Mind if I sit with you?” Lee asked timidly, both hands clutching her books and that little brown bag in front of her as she gently swayed a little side to side, almost holding her breath waiting for his reply.

Tom’s heart did a little flip in his chest before it started racing. It took him a minute to even realize that the girl had spoken to him, in fact had asked him a question. When his star struck mind finally registered the question he brightened noticeably and scooted over slightly to make more room.

“Sure… I… I mean… No! I don’t mind if you sit.” Tom sputtered then turned his head away and bit his tongue, angry with himself for sounding so stupid.

Lee smiled, both from relief and because she thought she saw a trace of blush on Tom’s face before he turned away out of shyness. At least, she hoped it was shyness. That thought caused her to frown a bit as she had second thoughts racing through her own mind. Still though, she turned and eased into sitting down, making sure her skirt didn’t ride up or fly open.

“Th… Thanks… Tom. It is Tom, isn’t it? Your name I mean.” She asked meekly wanting desperately to look him in the face but only chancing brief glances as she sat her books to one side and still clutched her bagged lunch in front of her on her lap.

“Yeah… it’s Tom… and you’re Lee… right?” Tom confirmed then asked haltingly. He himself sneaking furtive glances at this blond-haired angel sitting beside him.

“Thanks again, for this morning… picking up my books and all.” Tom gushed then blushed and turned away again, his heart beating in his ears.

“Oh, that was nothing, anyone would have helped I guess.” Lee smiled sheepishly and her own face felt warm.

“No, not everyone would have. Most would have just laughed and walked on by.” Tom remarked sadly, the truth of most human nature, something he knew too well.

“Well, they should have.” Lee stated with a voice of certainty.

Tom’s stomach growled about that time. He grimaced and felt so embarrassed that he wished a hole would open up in the ground and just swallow him up. The sound made Lee giggle. She thought it was cute. Then she remembered her own lunch was sitting right there in her lap. Eyeing the discomfort apparent on Tom’s face as he looked away, she realized that he was not eating lunch. She couldn’t know why but that was not important. She decided to share what she had, if he’d accept it.

“Plain old peanut butter and jelly sandwich, again. I really am tired of the same old thing every day. Hey! At least mom packed an apple for me. Say, you want my sandwich? I’m not going to eat it.” Lee said in a light tone of voice trying not to sound too pushy. Tom turned around to look at her to see if she were joking or messing with him.

“Really? You’re not going to eat it?” he asked sounding a little suspicious of Lee’s offer.

“No, really. If you don’t want it, I’ll just put in the trash can on the way back in to class.” She said trying to sound like it was something she did every day.

Tom gave Lee a sidelong glance that edged on suspicion but that was the exact same time his stomach growled again. Lee grinned at him and held out the sandwich. Tom smiled a little sheepishly but accepted the sandwich from her with a nod and a thank you. Lee smiled in return and turned back to her lap and picked up the apple and took a dainty bite.

The sandwich was wrapped in waxed paper, two thick slices of obviously homemade bread, a thick layer of peanut butter and an equally healthy amount of grape jelly. Tom’s mouth was watering before he even took the first bite. He glanced up just as he was biting into it to see Lee bashfully watching him with a smile on her face.

“Mmmm… Thanks.” Tom said around a mouthful of sandwich, his eyes alight with pleasure.

Lee just smiled and nodded as she took another dainty bite of her apple. They both ate in silence. A loaded silence perhaps, both of their minds were racing to match the racing of their hearts. What to say, what to do? Furtive glances and awkward smiles when each caught the other looking. They were both giddy by the time the sandwich and the apple were consumed. Before either could begin any kind of conversation though the bell rang.

“Time to go…” Lee said as she stood up reluctantly, turning to pick up her books to clutch them to her chest.

“Th… thanks for the sandwich… Lee.” Tom spoke hastily, and he stood as well, some from manners some to get ready to go to his next class as well.

They climbed the few steps to the front doors side by side, almost but not quite rubbing shoulders. Tom pushed opened the door for Lee and she bowed her head in a nod and graciously preceded him through the entry. Inside the halls were crowded with other students rushing to their next classes, among them, just exiting the cafeteria were none other than Sylvia, Delores and Rita. Tom and Lee were oblivious to the trio, but the three girls didn’t miss Tom and Lee. Sylvia’s eyes all but smoldered as she glared holes into Lee’s back.

“Isn’t that Lee? With Tom?” Rita whispered loudly as she leaned into Sylvia’s side.

“Shut it!” Sylvia barked as she shrugged her shoulder as if to swat away Rita and her buzzing voice.

“She’s such a country bumpkin.” Delores said spitefully and rolled her eyes.

“Well, isn’t Tom a bumpkin too?” Rita asked sounding a little confused, but she looked even more confused when Delores elbowed her in the side while giving her a stern look and shaking her head while nodding towards Sylvia.

“Oh yeah… right…” Rita said softly as she bit her bottom lip and gave Sylvia a sidelong glance. Both girls’ faces were red, Rita’s from embarrassment, Sylvia’s from a growing jealous anger.

“Bitch…” Sylvia muttered under her breath. Rita wondered if Sylvia were talking about her or Lee.

***___***___

“Order up!” Yelled Bill through the kitchen window as he set a plate on the sill and reached looked at the next order ticket hanging on the carrousel.

“Not so loud Bill, Yvonne all but growled back at him as she picked up the plate and turned around to set it on the counter a few feet away in front of the waiting customer.

The lunchtime crowd was thinning out and Yvonne and Deeny were finally starting to catch their breath. Yvonne had been on shift since 5:30 that morning. Deeny normally only worked till 3:30. Both would be relieved soon by Sally Randal who worked the dinner shift Monday through Friday. She and Yvonne were the only full-time waitresses that Hank employed. There were two other girls who worked part time and usually covered the overnight and weekend shifts. Still though, the hours weren’t bad for it being only a part time job.

Hank had hired Deeny mostly because he was friends with Deeny’s dad Duke. That’s what everyone knew anyway. There was another reason why Hank had agreed to let Deeny work at the diner. A reason that only she and Hank knew of, and she wasn’t sure if she’d ever tell anyone else. It was a dirty little secret that Deeny would just as soon keep secret. Lord knows there’s enough dirt in and around this town already. The things people get into behind closed doors or when they’d had too much to drink would be shocking to most folks.

Sally came in a little after 3:00. With her was a very grumpy Jimmy Randal, her nephew. Sally told the girls and Bill that Hank wouldn’t make it in till tomorrow morning. Jimmy was going to work the rest of the day and overnight. He didn’t look too happy about it, Deeny thought to herself. Yvonne and Lee counted down their register and receipts, then split their tips with Bill. Bill had a smoke on the back steps before climbing in his truck and going home. It had been a long night and day for him.

Deeny had to relieve herself before leaving to pick up Lee at the high school. Yvonne was standing at the sink looking in the mirror trying to primp a little bit. She was fluffing her chestnut hair, pulling at faded and silvered whisps with a smirk bordering on a frown. She was still there when Deeny finished and came out of the stall. Yvonne looked a little dejected as she studied herself in the mirror.

“What’s wrong Y?” Deeny asked, using the familiar contraction of Yvonne’s name that sounded oddly like she was asking the question “Why”.

Yvonne looked over at the younger girl at the next sink as she washed her hands and primped herself a little in the mirror as well. Yvonne smiled sadly, both for the answer that first came to her mind and for the reason that she wanted so badly to just grab Deeny by the waist and kiss those full beautiful lips of hers… but knew that she had to wait till the time was right… if ever.

“Nothing wrong honey. I’m just a tired old hussy who’s pushing past her prime. I guess I’m just feeling my years and maybe a little sorry for myself.” Yvonne said in a tired voice while she watched Deeny dab at her face and fuss a bit with her hair.

“You might be a tired hussy, but you’re not “old”. Girl… half the men who come in this place ogle you like you were on the dessert menu.” Deeny said with a giggle before turning to look at Yvonne.

“Well, don’t you just say the nicest things? You’re so sweet YOU should be on the dessert menu!” Yvonne said with a giggle and winked at Deeny.

“I’d love to eat you up little lady!” Yvonne thought to herself as she smiled at Deeny if a little sadly.

Deeny stood there for a moment longer looking into the sad eyes of the older waitress, the smile was genuine but it was as sad as the eyes looking back at her. How could such beautiful emerald green eyes look so sad? There was something else in those eyes, something that Deeny had seen in the looks of a couple of others in her few short years. While it made her heart skip a beat or two it also made her shiver for some reason.

Wringing her hands dry on the old roll down cloth towel dispenser hanging beside the mirror, Deeny took a deep breath. On impulse she stepped over to Yvonne and stood directly in front of her looking up slightly into the taller woman’s eyes. Their faces were only inches apart and both could feel the other’s breath on their lips. Both women searched the other’s eyes for a moment. Sensing this was not the moment to explore, Deeny smiled a bit nervously and reached out with her left hand and rubbed Yvonne’s right arm just below the shoulder.

“See you tomorrow morning Y…” Deeny said almost reverently before releasing Yvonne’s arm and turning to exit the lady’s room.

Yvonne, inhaled with a gasp. She hadn’t even realized that she had been holding her breath. She leaned back resting her backside against the front edge of the porcelain sink, crossing her right arm across her modest bosom and fanning her face with her left hand. As she replayed what had just happened over and over in her mind, she started to smile. It was a genuine smile, full of hope and curiosity.

***___***___

After Deeny had climbed into the old blue chevy and started up the engine, she sat for a moment and a shiver ran through her body. She reached up with the fingers of her right hand and gently touched her lips and closed her eyes. “Would that be what Y’s lips felt like?” she wondered to herself. Her own lips curled into a soft smile and she shuddered again. Taking a deep breath, Deeny shifted in her seat and then put the old car into gear and backed out of the gravel parking lot and turned onto the road. Her little sister should be waiting for her by now.

As she drove through town and then out to the high school, Deeny thought back to an evening two years earlier. The night of the Wilding Barn Dance. For many years the annual Wilding Barn Dance had been something to look forward to. Young and old alike would dress up in costumes, many good enough that you didn’t know who they were really. There would be food and music and dancing, and as with any kind of gathering there was always alcohol, be it beer, homemade wine, gin, harder spirits or even moonshine. Someone always got drunk, often there were fights over women of course.

That year wasn’t her first Wilding, but it would probably be her last. Things just got too far out of hand. She had gone with a group of girlfriends from school. They had all dressed as gypsies complete with scarves that could be pulled over an ear to hide their face, all but their eyes. They met up with some boys of course, at the dance. Most of the evening it had been fun with lots of dancing and laughing. As the evening wore on though, couples began pairing off and disappearing off into the shadows around the barn or in the hay field where the bonfire had been lit.

It wasn’t just the younger folks seeking out places for a little privacy, many of the older men and women were as well. With most everyone in costumes though it was hard to tell who was who, especially in the shadows and darkness. Deeny herself had been making out with a boy who had been forward enough to make a play for her while dancing earlier. He was a little taller than her, and pretty well filled out, that was obvious even with a costume on. Her pirate had swept her away and things were heating up quickly.

Unfortunately, the two got separated. He had said he was going to get them a couple of drinks and be right back. Deeny was still waiting in the shadows of a tack room off the main barn when a drunken union soldier stumbled through the door. Deeny could tell he was really drunk and not acting the part from the bottle in one hand and the smell that emanated off of him like an invisible fog.

The soldier took another long pull from his bottle before he even noticed that Deeny was there on the small pallet of fresh hay in one corner of the tack room. She had pulled her skirts over her knees and legs that were tucked under her, and the scarf across her face hiding her features. The man staggered back a step before steadying himself and wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. As his hand dropped to his side it revealed a very malicious looking smile on his face. Deeny tensed sensing something very bad from this drunken partier.

“Well… what have we here?” The man asked to no one as he leered at the gypsy girl huddled in the hay.

Deeny was practically paralyzed with fear. She’d seen that look in the eyes of a few boys she knew. She’d seen it in the eyes of the boy she was with this evening, but she wasn’t afraid of him. This, older man, held no kindness in his eyes, no happiness, no promise of any kind of fun at all. Rather, his leer only promised pain and… she shuddered at the thought.

She knew she had to get out of that room, as fast as she could. When the older man half stumbled to his left against a work bench as he tried to cross the room to where she lay huddled in fear, she saw an opportunity. As fast as she could, she rose and bolted towards the door of the tack room. She didn’t make it. With a scream on her lips, Deeny found herself being wrapped in his arms, one hand covering her mouth.

Kicking and wriggling as best she could with her arms pinned to her sides, Deeny felt herself being dragged back to the corner and the pallet of hay that she had just jumped up from. The old drunk soldier’s sour sweat and the reek of cigarette smoke and alcohol made her eyes water. She did manage to connect the heel of her right foot, now minus her shoe, with the man’s right shin.

“You little bitch! Damn it! Don’t piss me off. I’m not as nice as some bastards like that Duke! If you’re nice… I won’t hurt you… much.” He growled into Deeny’s ear before throwing her down onto the hay.

Deeny froze at the mention of her father’s name. He was the only “Duke” around here. How did this man know him? Had her father crossed this man somehow? Maybe he’d fooled around with someone this man cared about. But surely, he didn’t know that Duke was her father… did he?

The drunken man fumbled with his belt and unbuttoned the uniform trousers letting them fall to his knees. His white boxer shorts were dingy in the low light and appeared to be stained, and there was a wet spot in front. While keeping one eye on Deeny, he raised the bottle to his lips again to take another pull, and he hooked the thumb of his other hand in the waistband of his shorts and began to push them down.

Deeny was not a virgin, far from it, but she’d never been with an older man before, and certainly not forced to be with anyone. This scared her, this was not right, this was not going to happen. It all seemed so surreal, with the sounds of music and laughter in the background.

As his shorts were pushed down, his semi-erect uncut manhood flopped out into view. He leered at her as she cowered in the hay just a few feet away from him. He brought the bottle to his lips again to take another drink but realized the bottle was now empty. With a growl, he tossed the bottle aside and it landed on the work bench and shattered. With an evil grin growing on his cruel face, he took his manhood in hand and began to stroke it. When his hand glided to the base of his shaft, the foreskin was pulled back and the shiny purple head appeared only to disappear when his hand came back up the shaft.

Deeny’s heart was racing and her breath was ragged with panic. Her eyes above the veil were wide and fearful as she watched the lewd menacing actions of this drunken stranger. She’d backed herself away from him as far as she could go, her back was against the wall as she drew herself up into a crouch. Her legs were under her, she wanted to bolt and get the hell out of there but he stood between her and the door. Leering and stroking himself as his cock got harder.

The sound of music and laughter outside coming from the barn and from further away, the bonfire, seemed ironic to this situation. But when the man began to chuckle, an evil and cruel sound, Deeny’s heart leapt into her throat. She couldn’t have screamed if she had wanted to, and she did want to. She wanted to scream bloody murder, she wanted to draw attention of someone, anyone who might save her.

The man tried to close the distance between himself and Deeny, but with his pants and shorts around his knees, all he could do was shuffle awkwardly. Then, he stumbled. He fell forward to his knees and landed with a grunt. Deeny saw her chance, maybe her only chance, and she bolted past him on her way to the door.



She didn’t make it to the door however, the man reached out with his right arm and caught her about the waist and pulled her towards himself. This time Deeny did scream. Her voice was swallowed up by the other noises in the night air outside, the music, the laughter, the general conversations between people. What was a sound of fright and terror inside the tack room sounded as a muffled cry if anything outside.

Deeny’s hands immediately began pushing at his arm as she spun and tried to get away. Lifting his left hand off the floor where he had caught himself when he fell, the man tried to pull at her skirt. Thankfully the costume was several skirts, layered one atop another. In his drunken state, the man couldn’t quite figure it out and her squirming and twisting wasn’t making it any easier for him to concentrate on the problem.

The man had managed to pull Deeny around to his front. He would soon learn that that was a mistake. In desperation and in a full-blown panic now, as if the rest before now was only scary, Deeny brought her right knee up and connected with the man’s jaw. His head snapped back momentarily. He shook his head and began to growl menacingly again but before he could even say anything. Deeny took a half step back and brought her right, shoeless, foot up in a powerhouse kick that connected with the man’s balls.

It was if the wind suddenly went out of his sails as he hunched over, all of his breath coming out in a whoosh. In the moment of undeniable and excruciating pain, his grip on Deeny was released and she stepped back, ready to kick him again. There was no need however, as he fell forward on his hands again and began puking. He then collapsed right on top of the mess and curled into a fetal position and groaned pathetically.



Deeny spotted her missing shoe just beside the door and stooped long enough to pick it up and slip her foot into it before she opened the door and ran. As she bolted through the door, to what she had hoped to be freedom and safety, she ran headlong into another lumbering drunk. Well, maybe not completely besotted as the man in the tack room but smelling strongly of alcohol all the same.

This man caught her in his arms, more out of reflex than by design. At this point Deeny’s scarf had fallen from her face as she had struggled with the other man and made her escape. Looking down into her frightened and still panicky face, the man recognized her. He had known her all her life, though only seeing her occasionally and usually with her mother or her father who he was lifelong friends with. Hank Lipscomb stood a little straighter and held her as he looked at her with a concerned if befuddled expression.

“Deeny? What’s got you so scared little girl?” Hank asked as the alcoholic fog dissipated somewhat.

“In there… there’s a… there’s… He’s…” Deeny stammered still incapable of coherent speech.

Hank held her upper arms in each of his hands and pulled back a bit to look her up and down. Not seeing anything obviously out of place other than Deeny’s distraught expression on her face, he asked in a very calm voice.

“Are you okay, Deeny? What’s wrong?”

“I… me and a… friend were… kind of… we were fooling around… but he went to get us something to drink. Then… He… that man… came in! He was going to…” Deeny sputtered the whole time shaking like a leaf, her eyes wide and spooked.

“Did he… touch you?” Hank asked trying desperately to keep his voice calm, even though his suspicions were making him angrier with every breath.

“No… I mean, yes… he grabbed me, but I… I kicked him and got away!” Deeny spat her panic ebbing slightly as she realized that she had inflicted pain on her would be assaulter.

Hank couldn’t help but to wince at the thought of Deeny kicking someone in the nuts, she was a pretty girl but country… healthy and strong, not a wilting flower by any means. Yeah, whoever it was that was after her would be in a world of hurt right now. Seeing that Deeny, though still skittish, had calmed markedly knowing that she was no longer alone to face this stranger, Hank glanced over at the door to the tack room and decided he’d best go investigate for himself. Surprisingly, Deeny followed closely behind him.

After pulling the door open cautiously, it took a little while for Hank’s eyes to adjust to the low light inside the tack room. There was only a small kerosene lantern hanging above the work bench off to the left of the room. The dull yellowish light barely lit the room creating more shadows than eliminating them. Hank noticed the broken bottle shards on the work bench as they reflected the dull yellow light.

From the darker corner where the hay pallet lay there was a man curled in a fetal position. His pants still down around his knees so his bare ass shown in the low glow from the lamp, as did his heavy ball sack that poked out between his curled legs from behind. It wouldn’t have been a surprise at all to hear the figure moaning in pain, but instead there was a low buzzing snore. He was unconscious.

Crossing to the bench, Hank reached up and unhooked the lantern from the nail it was hung on, then moved to the foot of the hay pallet. Raising the lantern higher and closer to the man’s face, Hank saw it and knew who this man was.

“Well, I’ll be… JD Branson… you bastard. Guess you got what you deserved this time huh?” Hank voiced quietly before chuckling a little and turning back to the bench to rehang the lantern.

“Who… who is it, Hank?” Deeny asked nervously from the doorway, still not brave enough to reenter the tack room.

“Jefferson Davis Branson” Hank proclaimed as he joined her in the doorway, looking back at JD as he lay curled in the hay.

“I believe he lives just down the road from your pa’s place. He’s a mean old bastard, guess he’s got reason to be, but some people are just born bitter and mean.” Hank said as he turned back to Deeny, to study her face intently before asking her what was on his mind.

“Deeny, I believe every word you told me, but other’s might not. I mean, it’s a barn party… the Wilding… People get confused with the costumes and all. He could argue that it was a case of mistaken identity if nothing else. Do you want to charge him with anything? I can call the Sherriff if you want… but…” Hank left the “but” hanging as he figured that she was smart enough to catch his drift.

Deeny’s expression looked pensive and angered even if still a little frightened. Hank could see the question working its way through her mind and her coming to a decision. Rather than give him a verbal answer she simply shook her head then spat at the unconscious man across the room. It didn’t matter if the spit didn’t actually hit him, but the act defined how she thought of him all the same.

Deeny spun on her heels and began to walk away. Hank left the tack room and followed her across the yard to a parked wagon that had coolers full of soft drinks and a table with pitchers of lemonade, tea, and of course punch along with stacks of cups. Seeing the drinks so close to the tack room made Deeny pause and wonder what happened to the boy who had brought her to the tack room in the first place. He never did return.

Sensing that this was something different, but still significant, Hank stopped beside her and placed his right hand on her back to rub her gently as if to reassure her that she wasn’t alone. Deeny half turned her saddened and puzzled face to look at Hank and smiled sadly for a moment.

“I guess my date, changed his mind, or got distracted…” She mumbled before the sad smile dropped into a frown, her eyebrows furrowing on her forehead as a thought crossed her mind.

“I wonder… could he have set me up? I mean drawing me into the tack room like that then have me wait for him… only for someone else to show up?” She wondered aloud, mostly to herself rather than asking Hank or anyone else.

“Who was this boy?” Hank asked quietly, as the same thought began to form in his own mind. This could be darker than just an ugly mistake. Not that things like that have never happened around here before. There was a bit of a history of those kinds of goings on hereabout over the years. Hell, even he himself had been in on some of that kind of high jinks. Of course, in his day it had been all in fun, no one getting hurt or forced against their will.

Deeny’s frown preceded her response. Her shoulders fell in dejection as she realized that this could have been mostly her fault for letting herself get taken in by some boy, she fancied but had no idea who it was. Lesson learned.

Hank ended up driving Deeny home that evening as she couldn’t find any of the other girls she had come to the dance with. Hank was at loose ends, enjoying a rare night off from the diner. He spoke of working the long hours there even as the owner, lamenting that he needed to hire more help so that he might have any kind of social life himself.

It didn’t take too much effort on either’s part to determine that this chance meeting could be beneficial to both of them. He asked her if she would be interested in working part time after school. Deeny said that she would love to work somewhere to make a little money, but she’d have to clear it with her mom and dad first.

When Hank pulled up to the old farmhouse that Deeny and her family called home, the old blue chevy wasn’t there. Deeny’s pa was still not home, no surprise there for Deeny anyway. They were met on the back porch by Deeny’s mom Caroline. She smiled briefly at Deeny before giving Hank a rather stern look that bordered on loathing. Hank understood the suspicious nature of Caroline’s glare, they had known each other since before Deeny was ever born.

“Hank, you working as a taxi driver now?” Caroline queried suspiciously, one eyebrow raised questioningly.

“That would be a change of pace for me, wouldn’t it, Caroline?” Hank asked with a chuckle.

“Did you see him tonight?” Caroline asked directly, ignoring Hank’s attempted humor.

“No, Caroline, I didn’t. But then, I ran into other…old friends…” Hank said hanging his head slightly and looking up the steps at Caroline somewhat sheepishly before moving his eyes to Deeny as if to say “not in front of her.”

Caroline was quick to take the hint and turned to Deeny and told her to go on in and get ready for bed. She crossed her arms in front of her as if hugging her own chest and watched Deeny turn and go into the house through the old creaky screen door. Turning back to Hank, Caroline waited until she heard Deeny’s footsteps on the stairs before raising the single eyebrow again silently indicating he should elaborate further.

“JD was at the dance, Caroline, he was drunker than a skunk.” Hank stated softly, knowing that Caroline was well aware of the rumors about JD and Duke… or rather Duke and JD’s wife Annie.

“Was she there? Annie?” Caroline asked pointedly, her heart beating just a little bit faster as the knots in her stomach began to twist tighter with familiar anger, and heartache.

“If she was, I didn’t see her.” Hank said honestly. “I only saw JD, because I found him… after I ran into Deeny.” Hank added, knowing that he’d have to explain further.

Hank went on to describe what had happened and what Deeny had told him. Caroline had to sit down on the steps to the porch as she wrapped her arms around her knees, feeling the bile rise in her throat. It had been a close call for her eldest daughter, a very close call. Belatedly she thanked Hank for looking out for her girl. Hank was seemingly embarrassed all the more for being thanked. He just nodded and told her good night and turned to go.

“If you see that bastard husband of mine… no… never mind. Good night, Hank.” Caroline said standing up and turning to go into the house.

Hank climbed into his old car and turned about and headed out the driveway to go home himself. Unbeknownst to him, Caroline had closed the heavy oak back door and locked it, then leaned her forehead against the grainy wood and wept. Another night alone, wondering where her husband was, and who he might be with.

***___***___

Deeny shook her head as she drove through town. Remembering that night always gave her the creeps. She realized how close she came to getting raped that night, as if that was the worst of it. No, the worst part was learning that her mother was so unhappy and that her father was… was… was what? She knew that he loved her mother, and both herself and her younger sister, but… He couldn’t seem to be able to help himself when it came to other women as well. The details are sketchy in her mind but he could have been with half the women in the county for all she knew.

Pulling into the parking lot at the high school, the old blue chevy, as always, was followed by a thin hazy cloud of blue smoke. The brakes squealed a little as Deeny slowed near the front doors of the school. Several busses were still lined up further down the curb waiting for the last of their passengers to get aboard before departing the school. There were always stragglers walking or sometimes running to their waiting busses.

Deeny held her feet on the clutch and the brake till she turned off the engine, then relaxed as she waited for her younger sister to come out of the school. She sat back in the driver’s seat and closed her eyes imagining the older chestnut-haired waitress, Yvonne. Deeny felt a familiar tingle and dampness between her legs as she remembered the feel of Yvonne’s breath on her own face this afternoon just before she left the diner to come pickup her sister. Those lips had been so close… Deeny shuddered at the thought. She sighed thinking that she should have just risked it and leaned a little closer and kissed the older woman. A shout from a student running for a bus shook Deeny out of her day dream.

“Come on Lee…” Deeny lamented as she gripped the big steering wheel a little tighter with both hands, and bit her bottom lip as she closed her eyes again for a moment to remember Yvonne’s inviting lips just inches away.

***___***___



The senior nurse at the desk was nodding her head and flipping through the chart in front of her, double checking the information on it. She was making sure all the blanks were filled in and all the signatures were correct and dated. Sheriff Potter stood tiredly on the other side of the counter, leaning his left elbow on the surface and resting his head in his hand. His other hand patting clumsily at his breast pocket, absent mindedly feeling for his cigarettes.

Glancing up as he was just about to light a cigarette he’d just put in his mouth, the head nurse frowned and her eyes narrowed darkly. Without looking at it, she used the pen in her hand to point over her shoulder at the sign on the wall next to the clock that clearly stated “NO SMOKING”. Gerald paused the lighter just before he brought it to the end of the cigarette. He too frowned and closed the lighter and took the cigarette out of his mouth and put it back in the pack.

“Sorry.” He grumbled, taking a deep weary breath as he continued to wait for the nurse to speak to him.

“Well, it looks like everything is in order. Mrs. Wainwright is being discharged. Perhaps you can speak to her when she gets home.” The equally tired senior nurse told him, her eyes focusing on Gerald’s pack of cigarettes still in his hand, her tongue wetting her lips in response to her own craving perhaps.

“Is she gone already?” The Sheriff asked with almost a groan in his voice.

“Not yet. I’ve just completed her discharge paperwork. The doctor has signed off on her release and supplied her pre***********ions. We just have to ger her up and into a wheel chair to transport her down to the exit.” The nurse told Gerald just as an alarm started going off for another room, just adding to the ambient noise of the hospital around them.

“Can’t I speak to her in her room while that’s being taken care of then?” Gerald asked hopefully.

The nurse looked up at him and frowned a little more, if that was possible, but then shrugged.

“I suppose that would be alright. But no smoking. Wait till you get back outside.” She told him with an envious glint in her tired grey eyes.

A candy striper led Gerald down the hall to the room that Vivian Wainwright was in. The young girl stepped over to the chair beside the bed and gently shook Trina’s shoulder to wake her up. Trina had leaned over to rest her head on her left arm that was on the bed rail, her other hand still held her mother’s hand. Trina jumped with a start and woke up. The nurse apologized.

“I just wanted to tell you that they’ll be moving your mother in a few minutes. We’re just getting a wheel chair for her now. Um… this gentleman here would like to speak to your mom, if that’s okay with both of you…” The candy striper told Trina.

Hearing the nurse talking to her daughter, Vivian opened her eyes and looked up to see who it was that had come to talk to her. She Frowned and then sighed as she recognized Sheriff Gerald Potter. Helton was not a big place, most everyone knew everyone there. Viv knew Gerald, just as she knew his friends and cohorts from as far back as elementary school. He might be the Sheriff now, but as far as she was concerned, he was just a plain old opinionated, puffed up full of himself, bull headed good old boy. Not far removed from her own husband and his card playing asshole friends.

The candy striper stood still, a little uncertain as to what she should say or do, waiting on a response from Vivian. She looked from her to the Sheriff and to Trina and back to Vivian as if hoping someone would say something.

“Mrs. Wainwright?” She began, only to be interrupted by Vivian nodding and waving her hand dismissively to signify it was alright. At that, the young girl turned and almost bolted from the room.

“Viv.” Gerald began by way of greeting, nodding to Vivian and Trina.

“Gerald.” Vivian responded back at him, still with a grimacing frown on her darkened face.

“I… um… I’ve already spoken with Hank Lipscomb earlier today… I won’t go into… what happened last night.” He stated haltingly, fidgeting with his hat in his hands as he glanced from Vivian to Trina and back. He was uncertain as to how much the younger girl knew of the situation that landed Viv here in the hospital, but he didn’t want to add to the misery.

“Then what are you doing here Gerald?” Viv barked with a bit of a sarcastic laugh in her voice.

Trina looked alarmed, looking back and forth between the Sheriff and her mother.

“Mom?” She began as she stood up next to her mother’s bed.

“Trina, baby, could you go find that nice little nurse and ask for a glass of water for me?” Vivian gave her daughter a faint smile with her request. Trina nodded and reluctantly left the room, glancing questioningly at the Sheriff again as she walked past him to the door.

After Trina had left the room, Gerald looked back to Vivian who was staring a hole through him. Her face still clouded and pained, but also tired. She half nodded her head towards the chair beside the bed in a silent offering for him to sit. Taking the hint, Gerald smiled tiredly and stepped over and settled into the chair slowly with a groan.

“Long day?” Vivian queried sarcastically.

“And night… what day is this anyway?” Gerald retorted bringing one hand to his forehead to drag slowly down his face as he inhaled deeply.

“You going to be okay Viv?” Gerald asked her seriously, true concern in his soft voice.

“This time… Gerald… it was… it was my fault.” Vivian struggled to get out while maintaining her composure. Her eyes still filled with tears and her face darkened a shade redder with the anger that simmered just under the surface.

“He shot you Viv, how was this your fault?” Gerald spat out in frustration.

“I’m sure Hank told you what led up to that moment, didn’t he?” Vivian fired back, this time with a trace of venom in her voice.

“I heard Hank’s story. I want to hear yours Viv. I gotta know…” Gerald told her sternly as he leaned back in the chair and stared up at the room’s ceiling.

Vivian sighed resignedly and laid her head back on her pillow and began to tell Gerald her story of the night before. For the most part it was just as Hank had told it, if only from her perspective. Hank couldn’t have known just how frustrated she was with her husband at the time though. Times had been harder of late. Money was tight but Walt kept throwing it away on booze and cards. He never could play poker very well to start with but he kept throwing money at it, and getting drunker each time he lost. It was like an obsession for him.

Gerald listened as Vivian told of the bitterness and frustration in their marriage as of result of the gambling and drinking. It had all seemed to come to a head last night and when Duke started in on her like he does, she snapped. The anger, the frustration, the loneliness and need for affection and excitement just got the better of her. She made a mistake in entertaining Duke’s advances. One thing led to another and then Walt saw it and he snapped.

“I honestly don’t think Walt was trying to kill me, Gerald.” Vivian ended with a sigh and sniffed back fresh tears of shame.

“I suspect not, Viv. But I need to determine if he meant to kill Duke instead. Men can do crazy and stupid things in the heat of the moment, especially when there is alcohol and…jealousy involved.” Gerald said as he sat forward, both elbows on his knees, his hands clasped together in front of him.

Unseen by the Sherriff or Vivian, Trina stood to the side of the doorway outside the room. One hand covering her mouth to keep herself from crying out, the other still holding the glass of ice water for her mother. She had heard the whole conversation, and now knew more of what happened last night and how her mother had been shot. She was no stranger to the pain and sadness her mother was going through. Afterall, she lived in the same house with her parents, it was hard to miss. Still though, she did not know her mother was so frustrated.

Seeing a nurse pushing a wheel chair down the hall towards her mother’s room, Trina pulled herself together, straightened up and turned to enter the room. She cleared her throat discreetly as a way of warning.

“I think they’re here with your wheel chair mom.” Trina said as she offered her mother the glass of water.

Gerald stood up from the bedside chair and fidgeted with his hat for a moment longer, still needing more information before he left.

“Viv? Any idea where Walt might have run off to? I really need to find him and, have a word with him.” He said carefully still trying to be discreet around Trina.

“I don’t know Gerald…” Vivian replied tiredly.

“Check the boathouse down at the fishing camp.” Trina offered up, drawing looks from both her mother and the Sheriff.

Gerald looked back to Vivian, she looked him in his eyes and simply shrugged as if to say, it’s as good a place as any to look. Gerald looked back at Trina again, but she wouldn’t meet his eye. He wondered at how or where she might have come up with that information. Shaking his head, he decided that that was something for another time, not today.

“You going to be alright getting home?” Gerald asked Vivian.

Vivian nodded and looked to her daughter and smiled sadly.

“Yes, Trina can drive me home.” Vivian sad quietly just as a nurse came into the room pushing a wheel chair in front of her.

The Sheriff, put his hat back on his head and wished them goodbye before leaving the room so that the nurse could get Vivian up and dressed and into the wheel chair. Noting the time on the clock as he passed the nurses’ station, Gerald sighed again thinking that it’s been a long, long day. He would put in a call to Cam to roust him out of bed. Gerald would send Cam to the fishing camp to see if he could find Walt. Gerald knew that if he went looking himself, he was so tired right now he might just shoot Walt, rather than detain him for questioning. Gerald needed to go to bed and sleep, for a week maybe.

***___***___

“Who was it this time?” Caroline asked her husband. She was leaning against the door jamb of his woodshop with her arms crossed over her chest as if she were hugging herself.

Duke paused from pushing the hand plane down the length of the door secured to the bench vise, sweat staining his work shirt and dripping from his salt and pepper hair. He turned to look at his wife of twenty-four years, seeing the hurt and anguish in her eyes. Caroline’s mouth was set in a firm straight line, indicating that she was also still angry as hell. Her beautiful grey eyes were reddened and still a little puffy from crying. She was a strong-willed woman though, and fierce as any man could ever be especially if she were riled up.

“Caroline… honey…” Duke began with a weary pleading voice, only to be cut off by his wife’s vitriolic question again.

“Whose wife Duke? Who did you sweet talk into fucking you last night?” Caroline spat, her bottom lip trembling with rage… and hurt.

Duke looked into her eyes, almost pleading with his own gaze, until he lowered it to the floor at her feet. He knew that there would be no explaining or softening the result of what he did. Taking his free hand, he wiped the sweat from his face and set the box plane down on the work bench. He glanced up and saw a quart mason jar on the shelf behind the bench, half full of moonshine, but he dared not reach for it right now. Instead, Duke walked over to the wall a few feet from the door and dipped a tin cup into an open pale of water and drank it. He turned back to Caroline and sat down on a small stool beside the pale.

“I try… I know you don’t believe me, but I do try… to behave.” Duke chanced a glance up at Caroline’s face, his own haggard and remorseful.

“It’s the same old story, Duke. You always try to be a gentleman, to “behave” … then you start drinking. Why does that make it alright? You’re cheating on me! Don’t I love you enough? Do you even love me?” Caroline all but screamed, half bent over as if the words coming from her were causing physical pain in her gut. The tears once more streaming from her reddened eyes.

Seeing Caroline like this cut Duke to his core. He did know he was weak, especially when drinking. But he loved this woman with all his heart. He loved her and their two girls more than anything in the world. His own eyes started to well with tears as he hung his head again. He wanted more than anything to stand and cross the room to take Caroline into his arms and hold her tight. To reassure her that he would try… try harder… to be a good man. The man that she deserved.

Caroline saw Duke slump over on the stool hanging his head, and it made her even more angry. In her mind he should stand up like a man and renounce his ways and promise to make things right. So many times, she had confronted him over his wandering ways and love of liquor.

Duke just sat there, his mind a whirl, competing with his emotions. Last night’s card game hadn’t been good or bad as far as winnings go. He had pretty much broken even by the end of the game. He had, of course, drank too much and he had indeed flirted too much with Walt’s wife Vivian. He really hadn’t expected anything to come from it, it was all just fun really. But it went from a little fun to something else, fast.

Over the years, Duke had wooed many women, just as Caroline had pointed out. It always started out as innocent fun and games really. He enjoyed the give and take with pretty girls, or women. He was not a bad looking man, so many of the women were enticed to take it further than just flirting. It didn’t always lead to trouble, he was fairly discreet even when he was drinking. Sometimes though, trouble still found him. Like last night.

The memory of seeing the gun in Walter’s hand flashed through his mind. He realized that he could very well have been killed by a jealous husband in a fit of rage. Oh, there had been fights through the years, over indiscretions, jealous boyfriends or husbands of the many women. There had been hard feelings, and there had been consequences. Common knowledge or not, Duke had fathered more than just the two girls with Caroline. He couldn’t be sure just who or how many, but more than a few he suspected.

***___***___

Sylvia clutched her books in her arms strategically placed under her breasts, forcing them a little higher under her soft fuzzy pink angora sweater. She leaned with her back against the wall next to the bulletin board in the hallway leading to the doors of the school. Her sweater topping a navy-blue skirt that ended just above her knees, the white knee-high socks covered her fair skinned legs down to her black and white saddle shoes. One foot supporting her on the floor, the other flat against the wall behind her. Flanked to either side of her were her cohorts Delores and Rita. They watched as the other students exited the building on their way home. Sylvia was waiting…

The crowd of students rushing to go home was thinning now and Sylvia was second guessing herself, had she missed him already? Then she spotted him at the other end of the hall, coming around the corner… with that little blonde haired bitch Lee!

“Uh oh…” Delores muttered under her breath, having seen the same thing, she knew that Sylvia was likely to explode.

“What?” Rita asked from the other side of Sylvia, closer to the doors, as she leaned out to look down the hallway.

“Oh…” She said when she saw what Sylvia and Delores had seen already.

“Girls? A little interference, please?” Sylvia barely whispered to her cohorts, never letting her eyes stray from Tom as the two approached them.

Delores and Rita stepped away from the wall and both approached Lee smiling and took her by the arms in a social way as if they desperately had to speak with her alone for a moment. They both shared classes with Lee and they were wanting to know what she thought of some assignment or another, pulling her away from Tom and back down the hall a little way to discuss it.

Sylvia approached Tom slowly with a smile on her face, swaying her hips slightly from side to side, her long red hair flickering like a flame. She was clutching her books under her chest trying to wrest his attention from Lee and her girls. Tom had stopped walking and looked to Lee and the other two girls in confusion, but Sylvia smiled brighter when he noticed her and was looking at her almost warily.

“Hi Tom.” Sylvia purred in her sweetest voice, batting her eyes almost bashfully in his direction.

“Huh… uh… Hi Sylvia.” Tom stuttered a bit unsure of this brazen red head.

Sure, she was nice looking and all, but Sylvia did have a bit of a reputation around school, at least in the gym locker room and amongst the other guys in the school. Sylvia had been an object of fascination and fantasy of many of the guys for as long as they had known her, even more so in high school as they were all learning to appreciate the female form. She was certainly a good-looking gal, but that’s probably where the good ended, her proclivities and personality left a lot to be desired. To say that she played the field would be an immense understatement. Sylvia got around, and she was not kind when it came to moving on. She’d broken many a heart in her time at high school.

“Tom, I know we haven’t really talked much, but I want to change that. Maybe we can get together for a while next weekend at the Wilding. You ARE going, aren’t you?” Sylvia asked still holding the sweet smile and batting her eyelashes.

“The… the Wilding?” Tom asked, confused a little by the question.

“Yeah, silly. Everyone goes to the Wilding, the big barn dance and bonfire. You have to come too.” Sylvia almost pleaded as she rocked slightly from side to side twisting her torso.

“I don’t know, it depends on if my pa will let me go or not. I’ve never been before…” He trailed off apologetically, embarrassed actually.

“Please try. I’d love to… see you… there.” Sylvia said, gushing with girlish charm, but fire in her eyes the belied the seeming innocence she was projecting for Tom.

Tom nodded, dumbly as Sylvia backed away still smiling as she was joined by the other two girls. They turned as one and headed out the exit doors. Tom was still watching them warily with a bit of a frown on his face as Lee returned to his side, also watching the three other girls leave the building.

“What was that all about?” Lee wondered out loud, not really asking Tom.

Tom turned to her and seeing her pretty face also reflecting a hint of suspicion, simply shrugged. They both resumed walking towards the exit. As they pushed through the doors, finally, Tom held it open for Lee to walk through. She smiled demurely, nodding her head in thanks and blushing slightly.

Deeny saw her sister exit the building. That she was with that boy Tom Branson, made her frown for some reason. Perhaps it was the memory of his father and nearly getting raped by him that had soured her towards the boy, she didn’t think about it though. She shook her head and leaned her head back on the seat and looked up at the headliner of the car’s roof and blew out in frustration. With her left hand she blew the old Chevy’s horn to speed her sister along.

At the sound of the horn blaring not twenty feet away, Lee looked up startled at first then grimaced with irritation when she spotted the old blue Chevy and her sister beckoning her to hurry up. Tom had looked up at the sound as well, then back to Lee and for a moment she could have sworn he was blushing a little too.

“Well, I’d better get going.” He said smiling meekly at Lee before heading down the walk towards his bus.

He was still walking when he noticed that his bus had already began pulling away and be began running. It was too late though, slowing to a walk, he hung his head and slung his books over his shoulder and began trudging towards the parking lot exit onto the main road. It was going to be a long walk home. And it meant he’d have to endure an angry tirade from his old man when he finally got home.

Lee climbed into the passenger seat of the old blue Chevy as Deeny turned the key to start the engine. With a rumble and a cloud of blue smoke, the old car came to life and Deeny put it into gear and began to pull away from the curb. Lee glanced over at Deeny who was looking at her at the same time with one eyebrow raised and a knowing smirk on her lips. Lee blushed and turned back to the front just in time to see Tom trudging along as Deeny pulled out onto the road. Lee yelled for her sister to stop.

“What? What’s wrong?” Deeny asked as she tried to figure out what the panic was about.

“It’s Tom! He’s walking! He must have missed his bus.” Lee said, her look pleading with her older sister without even trying to ask.

Deeny gave her that look again, that one eyebrow raised in question and a pessimistic frown on her face saying silently that this was a bad idea.

“Oh, please? Come on Deeny it’s miles and miles to his house. How would you like to have to walk that far?” Lee pleaded, giving her older sister that little pout that would melt the heart of anyone, especially Deeny’s.

“Fuck!” Deeny swore under her breath, but then relented and lowered her head till her chin was almost touching her breast before looking back up and half smiling and shrugged at her little sister.

Lee beamed happily at her older sister and then turned and rolled down her window and hung halfway out it looking back at Tom as he trudged along dejectedly.

“Need a ride?” She asked with a subdued smile, trying not to look so happy about it.

Tom looked up only just then realizing that the Chevy had stopped not far from the parking lot entrance on the main road. He finally registered Lee’s question and the implied invitation and picked up his pace while smiling sheepishly. He opened the rear passenger side door and climbed in. After the door was pulled closed behind him Deeny put the old car in gear again and headed off down the road.

“Th… Thanks for stopping. I missed my bus, again.” He said sheepishly from the back seat.

“It was Sylvia’s fault, Tom. I think she did it on purpose.” Lee said over the back of the seat frowning at the thought of Sylvia Redmond and her bitchy little sidekicks.

“What did she ask you anyway?” Lee asked, now having thought back to when she got pulled aside by Delores and Rita to ask about an assignment in their history class that was two weeks old.

“She… She wanted to know if I was going to go to the Wilding this year.” Tom stated and glanced away, embarrassed.

Hearing the word “Wilding” captured Deeny’s full attention. Having just thought about the memory of her own close call two years ago at the Wilding… and with this boy’s own father no less… set her teeth on edge. Deeny’s knuckles were turning white as her hands gripped the steering wheel with such a ferocity. This went unnoticed by either Tom or Lee however, Lee’s eyes had lit up at the mention of the annual barn dance.

This would be the first one Lee got to attend, if her mother relented and allowed it. Deeny knew how she felt, as she had been just as giddy and excited about attending her first time as well. While she hadn’t attended this past year, because of the drama from the year before, Deeny knew that if momma allowed Lee to go this year, she would be going with her just to look after her little sister.

“Soooo?” Lee stretched the question out much like her own anticipation, almost holding her breath as she looked over her shoulder into the back seat at Tom.

“Huh?” Tom asked, confused possibly from his own distraction while thinking back to the ambush by Sylvia and her minions earlier. His face blank but bordering on panic actually as he replayed the conversation in his head from the time he climbed into the car till this moment.

“Are you going?” Lee clarified a bit, still watching Tom’s face and thinking that he was so cute with that look…look of what? She couldn’t decide if it was panic or just nervousness. She’d seen how he looked at her when he didn’t know she was watching him.

“I… I think I will… maybe…” Tom half mumbled hesitantly, even blushing a little maybe. His eyes never stopped moving, switching back and forth between Lee’s face and his own fidgeting hands in his lap as he wrung his fingers nervously.

Lee was positively vibrating with excitement, she had one hand squeezing on Deeny’s right arm as she was trying to drive. Deeny gave her a sidelong glance that marked her annoyance of her sister’s infatuation with this boy. But, to be honest, Deeny’s feelings were more likely tainted by her encounter with his drunken father two years earlier. She understood that, and by glancing in the rearview mirror, she could and did check out this boy. No, even Deeny had to admit, he was a young man, but maybe he didn’t quite understand that himself yet. It was hard to tell as he was so seemingly, at least, outwardly shy. Deeny knew that would change though.

As for Lee, she couldn’t take her eyes off of Tom. The thoughts running through her mind were a mixed bag of innocent infatuation and a more risqué jumble of desires and longing. She could feel herself tingle in places that shouldn’t, and she was… damp. Her heart raced, and her breathing became, well, labored at times and almost nonexistent at others. If she closed her eyes, she could almost feel his hands on her, his lips on her lips.

Tom, for most outwardly appearances, seemed calm, if a little shy and uncomfortable. Just under the surface however, he was much like Lee, in that his heart was racing and his body was betraying him in other ways. Thank God he was sitting down and his books were in his lap. With an inward groan, however, he realized that he’d have to climb out of the car eventually and his excitement would be quite evident to a casual glance. If only he didn’t let his imagination run away from him like it did. The thoughts and visions of holding Lee close, of kissing her and… and… more. His face was almost purple from blushing so hard.

“My momma already told me she might let me go this year, since I’m eighteen now. That is, if Deeny decides to go too…” She told Tom but looked pleadingly to her older sister, the grip on her arm only barely increasing as if to emphasize her plea.

“Yeah, well it depends on whether or not I get the day off…” Deeny began to grumble but was cut off by Lee’s sliding over and hugging her sister enthusiastically.

The old blue Chevy swerved and threatened with squealing tires to run into the ditch along the side of the road before Deeny straightened it back out again. Now Deeny’s heart was racing, but she glanced over at her sister and couldn’t help but to return the smile that was being aimed at her. Poor Tom, in the back seat hadn’t had a seat belt buckled so he had slid from side to side of the car. He looked a little panicked with his hands clutching at the surface of the seat on either side of him. Deeny couldn’t see it, but Lee certainly noticed the bulge in his jeans. Lee blushed and turned back around to look out the windshield, and smiled even bigger to herself.

It was only a few minutes later that the old blue Chevy squealed to a stop at the end of the gravel driveway to the Branson’s place. Tom opened the door and got out, turning to face the passenger side front window with is book bundle strategically placed in front of his torso. Lee had the window down and was resting her arms on the door and half leaning her chest and head out the window smiling at him but looking a little bashful as well.

“I guess I’ll see you at school tomorrow?” Lee said in way of a question.

“Y… yeah. That’ll be great.” Tom said with a bashful smile.

Deeny rolled her eyes and shook her head at the two of them and revved the engine a bit as she began to let out the clutch and start moving the old car again.

“Okay… bye!” Lee called lifting one hand to wave as the car pulled away in a cloud of dust and thin blue smoke.

Tom stood there for a few minutes until the car vanished around a curve down the road a way. He was still smiling that goofy grin as he turned and began trudging up the gravel drive towards the house… and his father.

In the car, Lee had flopped back into her seat and was staring off into the distance through the windshield, a dreamy smile on her face. Deeny looked over, then did a double take, looking at her younger sister more intently. She slowly shook her head from side to side before for returning her attention to the road as she drove. Deeny knew that Lee was head over heels, even if Lee herself didn’t realize it yet. In a way Deeny felt happy and even a little excited for her little sister, but she also felt wary as to what might become of anything with a Branson. Maybe Tom wasn’t like his father. Deeny hoped he wasn’t anyway, for her sister’s sake.

***___***___

The sounds of frogs croaking and crickets, and the occasional night bird calling were a lonely serenade for Walter. At least those sounds almost drowned out his own groaning and whimpering. He wished he could just go to sleep and wake up to find this had all been a bad dream… a nightmare. How had things gotten so out of control?

Walt raised the bottle in his right hand and took another pull of the harsh liquor it contained. Well, it had contained, it was empty now, just like the other two bottles that were laying on their sides across the floor from where he sat with his back against the wall. He wasn’t even sure who’s fishing shanty this was, it had been dark when he stumbled head first through the unlocked door. There was no electricity in this one, so he had just collapsed in the dark and sat. He sat and tried to think. His bladder had forced him to get up eventually, it had been after day break by then and he could see well enough to rifle the cupboards in this shanty… finding the three bottles of someone’s liquor stash.

Walter was by no means even sober when he began drinking from the first bottle. He was angry, heart sick and to be honest, scared. So many games, so many times he’d played cards with those guys. There was no way he could lose every time, someone had to be cheating, he just couldn’t prove it. Hank’s smugness last night had just been the last straw…Walt had had enough. Fighting wasn’t the answer, but he had lost his head. Then when he and Hank had stumbled outside on the porch… and saw Vivian… with HIM… doing… doing… Walt hurled that last, empty, bottle across the room in a burst of rage.

Walter lowered his head and brought his hands to his face, the hot sting of tears prickled at his eyes as they leaked through his scrunched-up eyelids to run through his fingers. Why had Vivian done that? He knew Duke had some sort of hold over women, some charm or secret to getting in their head or in their pants… But with Vivian? His Vivian. They had been married for over nineteen years and she had never even looked at another man.

Even as he moaned again in frustration, the image of his Vivian on her knees in front of Duke, with her lips around his bastard cock flashed through his mind. The smug look of happiness on Dukes face changing to fear, the startled expression in Vivian’s eyes… as Walter had pulled the pistol from his pocket. Walt had in that heated moment wanted so badly to shoot Duke in the face, to shoot and kill him, dead. But then Hank had charged him, knocking his hand away from his aim as the gun went off.

Time had stood still for that moment. The pistol had sounded so loud. Then there was silence for what seemed like an eternity… before it was shattered by Vivian’s scream of pain! He had shot Vivian… his Vivian… his wife! OH GOD! He just… he just ran. He ran blindly, not knowing where he was going.

The liquor had helped. It had deadened the pain, somewhat. While in a drunken stupor he couldn’t think, he couldn’t remember. Everything was okay. But it wasn’t. The liquor was all gone now and reality was returning with sobriety. Walter began to shake. It was a silent quaking and sobbing as his heart broke yet again seeing in his mind’s eye the look of pain and surprise on Vivian’s face after the gun had gone off. Her scream still echoed in his ears, not even the frogs and the crickets could drown it out completely.

***___***___

Yvonne half sat, half lay on her ratty old couch in her dingy little one-bedroom apartment. The old black and white television droned on and on with some evening game show that was being aired on whatever channel it happened to be tuned to. She was not paying attention to the show really, no her mind was elsewhere. After arriving home to her depressing little apartment, a small detached portion of a regular house that could be described as a mother-in-law or granny house. Her land lord was a nice enough old guy, bordering on senility she suspected, but he pretty much left her alone as long as she paid her rent on time.

The apartment really wasn’t dingy or depressing, it was just, quiet and lonely. Or was it that Yvonne was just lonely. She grimaced and took another long sip of the glass of gin she had poured for herself after changing out of her waitress uniform into a baggy loose cotton gown, more like an oversized tee shirt really. After a long hot shower to get the smell of grease and coffee out of her hair and skin, the gown was all she really wanted to wear. Setting the glass down she reached for another cigarette.

A long pull of the smoke filled her lungs and Yvonne closed her eyes and pictured those lips again in her mind. Deeny’s shining eyes filled with… could that have been desire? She was so, so very close. Yvonne shuddered again and exhaled the long draw of smoke and moaned ever so slightly Oh to have just closed that small distance and kissed those lips. If only… Leaning her head back on the backrest of the couch, her right hand holding the cigarette extended along the back of the couch, she let her left hand drift downwards.

She shifted her legs so that her right was extended along the couch, like her right arm. The left leg unfolded and dropped off the front of the cushions, her left foot coming to rest on the floor. Yvonne teased up the bottom hem of her gown revealing to any who would have witnessed, that she had nothing on underneath. Those long fingers of hers danced ever so lightly across the skin of her abdomen and lower through the carpet of fine hair on her pubic mound. The red nail polish glistening with moisture as she let her fingers slide through the dampness of her folds.

Still with her eyes closed, Yvonne imagined herself kissing and being kissed in return by Deeny. Her own fingers became Deeny’s as well. The gentle, delicate touching and probing as her moist lips parted in anticipation. Yvonne’s thumb traced circles around her proudly erect clitoris. Something that anyone who got to know her intimately found enticing and fascinating in its size and her sensitivity. Another long sorrowful moan slipped from Y’s parted lips. If only…

***___***___

Cam groaned mournfully when his wind-up alarm clock sounded off that evening. It seemed like he had only just laid down to sleep. Reaching blindly with his right hand until he found and silenced the mechanical cacophony, knocking off his bedside nightstand in the process. With another groan of defeat, he threw back the covers and rotated his legs over the side of the bed so that he could sit up. Cam rubbed his tired face and eyes with the palms of his hands before yawning widely and stretching his arms over his head.

Being the least senior on the department roster left a lot to be desired. Cam got all the shit jobs, and swing shifts, and first call for any unwanted overtime by anyone else. Many would think that since Sheriff Potter was Cam’s uncle that he might get some preferential treatment, but they would be wrong. Sheriff Potter was not one to condone nepotism. So, Cam, like any new deputy would pay his dues and put in the hours and legwork.

Cam was just standing up from his seat on the side of his bed, arching with his hands pressed to the small of his back, listening to the bones crack and pop, when his phone rang. He straightened up and crossed the room to his small wardrobe and dresser where the phone was sitting.

“Cam…” He said into the mouthpiece after picking up the receiver.

“About time you woke up. You ARE awake, aren’t you?” Growled Sheriff Potter’s voice through the tinny phone line.

“Yes… Yes sir… Unc… I mean Sheriff.” Cam sputtered standing up a little straighter.

“Grab a shower, then some coffee and a bite to eat. I’ve got something for you to do. It’s official department business but I want it low key and quiet. Got that?” Gerald barked through the phone line into Cam’s ear.

“Yes sir. What…What do you need me to do?” Cam switched the phone receiver from his right ear to his left and held the phone with his shoulder as he reached for a pen and a note pad.

“I need you to go over to the lake, and poke around the shed and the other fishing shanties and look for Walter Wainwright. And for God’s sake, don’t shoot him! He may be an idiot but he’s harmless. He’ll probably be drunk anyway.” Gerald grumbled directions to his nephew.

“Uncl… I mean, Sheriff? Shouldn’t he be considered armed? I mean, he did shoot his wife.” Cam ventured, concerned about his own safety as well as anyone else’s.

Cam heard a heavy sigh on the other end of the phone line as his uncle Gerald ran a hand across his face as he considered what he’d just been asked. After a few more moments, the Sheriff cleared his throat and clarified his marching orders a bit more.

“Okay, good point, you’re thinking like a cop, good. So, here’s what you’ll do. Go to the shed first. According to what information I’ve gathered, the gun in question was last seen skittering off the end of the porch into the weeds. If Walt isn’t in or at the shed, kick around the weeds around the porch and find that pistol. Bag it of course, you know the drill. If you can’t find the thing then be extra cautious approaching Walt if or when you find him. Got it?” Gerald asked finally as he rested his head on and upturned left hand propped on night stand beside his own bed.

“Yes, sir. Shed first, look for the pistol, find Walter and… bring him in?” Cam asked clarifying again.

“Oh, for Fuck’s sake! Of course, bring him in! Lock him up in holding while he sobers up or sleeps it off. I’ll be in in the morning to question him myself.” Gerald barked gruffly over the phone.

“Yes sir, of course, will do.” Cam replied a bit sheepishly

“Right then, get to it. I’m going to bed, don’t call me unless… just don’t call me.” Gerald said as he hung up his phone.

Cam took the phone away from his ear and looked at it as if it were a snake before hanging up his end as well. He tossed the pen onto the dresser top and turned to walk towards his bathroom for a quick shower, pulling his white undershirt over his head as he went.

Fifteen minutes later, Cam was buckling on his gun belt before reaching for his lid. His broad brimmed hat, much like the state police boys wore, only in the brown and tan colors of the sheriff’s department. He pulled the door closed behind him as he headed to his cruiser. Cam thought about stopping in at the diner to get that quick breakfast and some coffee like his uncle had suggested. He knew that Deeny wouldn’t be there this time of the evening so he pulled into the Tasty Freeze at the edge of town and ordered a burger and fries, and had them fill his thermos with black coffee. The coffee wasn’t as good as the diner’s but it would do the job and keep him awake.

***___***___

The sounds of arguing, screaming and shouting really, still bled through the bedroom walls. The usual evening fight could be heard over the sound of the music blasting out of the stereo headphones pressed firmly to her ears, even under the pillow that she had covering her head as she lay face down on her bed. Her eyes prickled with tears of frustration and, yes, hurt.

Being an only child could be a curse some times. It meant that all the attention, wanted or not, fell on that child. Attention could be affection, or encouragement, even love… Yeah, that would be great, wouldn’t it? More often than not however, it was anger, derision and spite. A single child in a failing marriage all too often becomes a pawn that gets used. Used by one parent to dig at the other. The result was a broken spirit. A broken child, from a broken family.

The sound of something shattering against a wall, another string of curses, then a slammed door. Moments later the sound of a revving engine and then squealing tires fading in the distance. Sylvia sobbed quietly, her head still buried under her pillow… and the music kept playing.

***___***___

The dinner table was a little quieter than usual this night. It would have been downright somber had it not been for Lee’s exuberance and excitement over the upcoming Wilding dance. Her momma had already said that yes, she was old enough to attend this year, even if she really didn’t like the idea of it all. Caroline hadn’t been to it herself for many years. She had her reasons but she never told anyone what they were. This year, however, she would go too.

Deeny, smiled at the talk, a halfhearted smile at best, more of a polite acknowledgement really. She hadn’t said whether or not she would be going herself. She was still shaken a bit from the dance and the near rape from two years ago. Only her mother knew about that though. Duke remained quiet. His head was down and he didn’t make eye contact with either of the three women at the table. He knew he was in the doghouse with Caroline, but that was nothing new. Fresh on his mind however, was the incident last night, and nearly getting shot. Whenever he thought about it, he had a nervous shiver.

“Momma? Will you help me come up with a costume?” Lee asked, her voice still tinged with excitement and anticipation.

“Why you could go as a gypsy, like your sister did the last time.” Caroline offered before taking another bite of her dinner.

Deeny’s head snapped up, looking first at her mother to see if there were some unspoken message… then at Lee, who seemed to be looking off into the distance, considering. Lee then tilted her head slightly to one side before shaking her head to dismiss the idea.

“Nahh… Something different I think.” Lee said then took a drink from her glass of iced tea.

The look Caroline fired at Duke across the table was not missed by Deeny, even if her mother didn’t realize that she’d seen it. There was fire in that look, and… hurt… and… longing.

Deeny felt she had to say something, or do something to break the mood. This was just too foreboding and heavy to let linger. She could almost feel her mother’s pain even if she didn’t know exactly what was causing it. Deeny had a pretty good idea though, and it darkened her own soul to think it might be true.

“Your costume should depend on how much or how easily you want people to know who you are sis.” Deeny said with half a mouthful of food that she was still chewing as if she were deep in thought.

“What do you mean?” Lee asked, her own fork paused halfway to her mouth.

“Well, do you really want to make people wonder and try to guess who you are under the costume, or do you want them to recognize you easily?” Deeny asked with an impish smirk and one lone raised eyebrow. “Like a certain boy who’s been giving you the googly puppy dog eyes…” Deen added with a questioning tilt of her head.

“Boy? What boy?” Caroline asked, suddenly interested again in her daughters’ conversation.

Lee shot Deeny a withering look. Well, it would have been withering, if she weren’t blushing bright red and her mouth hanging open as if aghast at the scandal that her older sister was trying to start with their mother. Lee’s heart was beating a mile a minute as she thought quickly, trying to cover herself.

“N…No one, momma. I mean… nothing serious anyway.” She said sheepishly, setting her fork down and wringing her hands in her napkin in her lap. Her head down and biting her bottom lip.

“Is it someone you’re sweet on?” Caroline asked, a mischievous grin spreading on her own face as she watched her baby girl flummoxed and embarrassed.

As mortified as she was for Deeny having just thrown it out there, Lee couldn’t help but to smile a little when she thought of Tom and his gentle touch and big beautiful eyes. She could have swooned right there at the dinner table, but she caught herself. Glancing up she saw Deeny’s grin, then looking to her mother she saw the same grin there as well. There was no winning here. With a sigh that bordered on being dreamy, Lee shrugged dismissively before picking her fork back up and intently studying her plate.

The conversation steered away from the Wilding after that, Deeny talking about the Diner and some of the customers she dealt with through the day. She mentioned offhandedly about Cam stopping in and asking where Hank was. Seems that Hank might have been involved in some trouble last night.

Surreptitiously Deeny watched her father out of the corner of her eye, and glanced up at her mother looking for a reaction as well. Her father seemed to hesitate while he was eating. She could almost see him tense up before he resumed eating. Her mother almost gasped, looking up shooting daggers at Duke, but didn’t say anything before returning to her own eating.

“It was probably nothing I’ll bet.” Deeny said as though it didn’t really matter. “I mean, nothing interesting ever happens around here anyway, right?” Deeny added as she set fork down and pulled her napkin up to wipe her face.

Everyone seemed to be done with dinner at that point. Duke stood up and mumbled something about finishing some work in the workshop. Deeny and Lee helped their mother clear the table and started doing the dishes. In no time the kitchen was cleaned up. Caroline poured some more iced tea and stepped out onto the porch to take a seat on the old glider swing.

Deeny watched her mother, noting the sadness that seemed to radiate off of her. She told Lee to go on upstairs and get to her homework or get ready for bed. Pouring herself some more iced tea, she joined her mother out on the porch. She sat quietly beside her mother for a few minutes before reaching her hand over and taking a gentle grip on her mother’s hand. No words were spoken, but the love in her mother’s watery eyes melted Deeny’s heart.

***___***___

Lee brushed her teeth after changing her clothes and getting dressed for bed. She studied herself in the mirror over the sink after rinsing her mouth. She tried to see herself as Tom might, or as other boys… but mostly Tom. Her curly blonde hair never seemed to do what she wanted it to do. So many times, she had tried to style it like the models in the magazines, but it never turned out the way she had hoped. Those freckles. Ugh! Lee pouted at the reflection. Then she smiled ever so slightly as she knew that her lips were maybe her best feature. Deeny said that she had a cute face, with pretty blue eyes. But Deeny was her older sister and prone to be biased anyway. Still though, Lee had to admit she felt good whenever Deeny did say something like that.

“Oh Tom… What do you think? Am I pretty enough? Would you want to kiss these lips?” Lee asked out loud and then her eyes got big with surprise and she looked about to see if anyone heard her.

Blushing and biting her bottom lip she giggled at herself, turned off the water in the sink and headed back down the hallway to her and Deeny’s bedroom. She only had a little homework to do tonight, but she knew she had best get it done before Deeny came upstairs. It would be lights out and time to sleep when she did.

Lee opened up her biology textbook and turned to the chapter that the class had been assigned to read before the next day. Lee had always liked science classes and biology in particular. The human anatomy had always fascinated her. The full body diagrams in the book detailed both male and female human bodies minus the outer skin. The male form definitely held her attention, or at least her eyes as her mind wandered trying to imagine Tom’s body under his clothes. Just the thought made her body tingle and her heart speed up.

***___***___

Tom lay on his back on top of his blankets. His head was cradled in his crossed arms atop his pillow and his feet crossed at the ankles. He was staring at the ceiling but he wasn’t actually seeing the paint or plaster, his focus was internal. His mind’s eye was seeing her. That curly blonde-haired angel. Those bright blue eyes, that sweet little nose and those… those lips. Just thinking of them made Tom wet his own lips with his tongue, completely unaware that he even did so.

He so desperately wanted to hold her, hold her hand… wrap his arms around her waist and pull her to him. To put his forehead to hers, to rub his nose along hers… to press his lips to hers. He knew he could get lost looking into her pretty blue eyes. The sound of her voice was like music to his ears.

Tom smiled to himself as he closed his eyes and imagined Lee by his side at the Wilding in two weeks. Sharing laughs and holding hands, maybe even dancing. Sitting with her by the bonfire… or even… holding her tight and… kissing… touching each other… exploring… The smile was still on his face as he drifted off to sleep.

***___***___

Trina pulled her momma’s car, the old Buick station wagon into the driveway leading up to the house. Except for a couple of naps throughout the day, she’d been awake since… well… she wasn’t even sure what day this was at this point. She was so tired, but more than tired, she was worried sick for her mother. She had heard what her momma had told the Sheriff in the hospital room, when they thought that she was out of the room. She had gone to get her mother a glass of ice water, but upon returning she had heard the whole story.

Her momma and daddy had been fighting a lot lately, and she knew they were unhappy for some reason. But Trina was not prepared for… for this. Trina loved them both of course, but hearing what her mother had done… well it was shocking. She really didn’t know what to think about that. She was so tired, too tired to be trying to figure it all out right now. She brought the big car to a halt not far from the back porch of the house.

There was no sign of her daddy’s truck, and the house was dark other than the light on over the back door. Trina got out of the car and went around to the passenger side to help her momma out of the car and into the house. It had been a long drive home with the awkward silence between the two of them. Especially when her mother cried off and on as they drove home.

Inside, the house was quiet. It was apparent that no one had been in the house since last night. The bloody shirt that Hank had put down on his car seat to drive Vivian home to her house was still in the floor beside the back door. Trina helped her momma walk through the kitchen and down the hall to her bedroom.

Once inside the master bedroom, Vivian turned to her daughter and held her. She held her with her hands on her daughter’s upper arms and held her with her eyes. There was a sad, sad smile and her eyes were puffy from crying, and Vivian wanted to tell her daughter how much she appreciated her help and how much she loved her… But the words wouldn’t come. So, with a quivering bottom lip she simply pulled her daughter into a motherly hug and sobbed quietly.

After a short while the two pulled apart and looked at one another again. This time Vivian found the words. In a halting, quiet voice Vivian spoke to Trina.

“Baby… I’m so sorry that you’ve had to go through this. No child should ever have to see such things.” Vivian sobbed, and the tears began again.

“Momma, I’m not a child anymore.” Trina said plaintively, her head tilting to one shoulder as she crossed her right arm over her chest to hold her left arm above the elbow.

“Oh, I know baby, you’re a young woman now. But you will always be my baby, my precious girl. I’m just so sorry you had to be part of this… this ugliness.” Vivian said hanging her head in shame.

“Why… Why did daddy shoot you momma?” Trina’s question came out in almost a whisper, but it sounded like a blaring horn in Vivian’s ears.

The tears really began to flow now, her face a mask of embarrassment and shame. Vivian backed over to the bed and carefully sat down, never taking her eyes off her daughter’s face. She sighed heavily and with her left hand patted the bed beside her, and her right hand reached out for Trina’s. Once she had settled next to her, Vivian began to tell Trina about the card game, the drinking and her… indiscretion. She told of her father’s drunken fight and his discovery of what Vivian was doing on the porch, the struggle, the gun firing and all of it. In the end, they held one another and cried together.

***___***___

Cam slowly pulled up to the shed with his cruiser. There didn’t appear to be anyone there. The bare bulb shown its jaundiced yellow light on the porch. The battered and broken screen door hung awkwardly from the frame of the door. The door itself was still open.

After coming to a stop with his headlights still playing on the porch of the shed, Cam climbed out of the cruiser. He drew his heavy-duty utility flashlight from his belt and turned it on. Approaching the porch and the open door, Cam held the flash light with his left hand and his right hand rested on the butt of his service revolver, still in its holster.

He warily closed the distance from the car to the porch, shining the light into the shadows around the porch and through the doorway into the shed. Cam was on edge, but he sensed that there wasn’t anyone here, at least now anyway. Stepping onto the porch, he saw the blood stains on the floor boards in front of the glider bench.

Going through the broken door, Cam shined his light about the interior. He noted the empty bottles and cans on the floor and various side tables and chairs. There was broken glass from several bottles on the floor as well. Near the door was a green glass ashtray laying upside down. The table laying on its side with cards scattered everywhere spoke of a violent end of the previous night’s card game. Cam shook his head and stepped back outside.

Remembering what his uncle, the Sheriff, had told him, Cam stepped off the porch and began searching the weeds around it. There were more empty bottles and few empty cans, but mostly just weeds. A black snake slithered away from his light after Cam nearly stepped on it. He followed it with his light and there it was. The pistol. It was a small pocket semi-auto .22 caliber. What many would call a Saturday night special.

Cam drew a pencil from his breast pocket and picked the small pistol up by sliding the pencil in the barrel so that his hands didn’t touch the gun. He then stood up and walked back to his car and opened the trunk. After slipping his flashlight back into the holder on his belt, he pulled a plastic evidence bag out and opened it up. Cam carefully placed the small pistol into the bag and put it in a box in the trunk. Now… to find Walter.

***___***___

It had been a long day mending fences and patching the roof of the old barn behind the house. The work was hard, but it was honest and it was for himself. It had to be done though. Rich had just taken over the old farm this past spring. Rich was an only child growing up, so he was quite familiar with working by himself. Now, he was working for himself. The farm, once was a beautiful and productive piece of land, some of the best in the county. Of course, that had been decades ago when his uncle Pete and his aunt Minnie ran the place.

Richard’s uncle and aunt had three girls, all older than himself. Richard’s mother was uncle Pete’s younger sister. She moved away from Helton when she got married to Rich’s dad. Rich was raised on a farm half a state away from where his mother grew up. Uncle Pete never did like Rich’s dad, as such they rarely visited, and so, he hardly knew his mother’s family.

Family is family however, blood ties run deep even if they don’t get along. A string of tragic events led to where he found himself today. First, several years of failed crops and dropping market prices led to his father over extending himself to the bank… until they called in the note. When it couldn’t be paid, he lost the farm.

Oh, he managed to hang on by becoming a sharecropper, doing the work for someone else. It crushed his father’s spirit. Sadly, it was short lived as a faulty space heater caused a fire that took the lives of both his father and his mother. Richard was away at college at the time. The news ended his college career. Rich had to sort through his parents’ affairs and tend to funeral arrangements and all the things that survivors do for those who pass. And grieve… That might have been the hardest part.

It’s said that when one door closes, another opens… it’s also said that fate is fickle… lastly, that blood is thicker than water. Richard learned all of these to be true over the next year of his life. The night after Richard had his last meeting with his court assigned lawyer for settling his parents’ estate, having signed the last documents, he was hit with more bad news. He’d been wondering what he was going to be doing after the last paperwork was finished. He technically was homeless and out of work. Richard had seriously considered joining the army. That didn’t happen though, because of the news.

In a weird twist of fate, Richard’s uncle Pete and his sweet aunt Minnie had both perished in a wreck on the interstate on the way home from Kansas City two days prior to him receiving the news. His cousins, two of them anyway, had sent word to him asking him to come to Helton. Of course, he would go. Richard’s father and uncle Pete might not have gotten along well, but uncle Pete and aunt Minnie had always been kind to him and his mom.

The house on the farm looked a lot like he remembered it as a kid. Arriving late in the evening, the rest of the farm was in the dark so he didn’t notice anything amiss right away. He was greeted by the youngest sister and her husband. She and the oldest sister had been going through their parents’ things. The funeral had already been arranged and it would take place in two days from that point in time. They were waiting on the middle sister and her husband to fly in from Oregon where they lived.

The two sisters insisted that Rich stay at the old house rather than rent a room in town. Not that there were many places to rent in Helton anyway, still, he was family. The oldest sister and her husband worked and lived in Kansas City. The youngest and her new husband lived in Indiana, where her husband was a veterinarian working in a small town. The middle sister and her husband arrived the next day and it was a somber reunion at best. There were a few smiles and laughs remembering childhood antics, some even included Richard from some of his many visits. But mostly it was sad and there were lots of tears.

The day after the funeral, the three sisters and their husbands met with the lawyer their father had retained for his legal affairs. The lawyer read the Last Will and Testament. No surprise that the farm had been left to the three girls to do as they wished with it in the event that both he and his wife passed at the same time. There were no arguments, no bickering or demands. The three girls loved the old place but none wanted to take it over and run it. Still, they hated to think it would leave the family completely. The thought of selling the farm and splitting the money just wasn’t appealing either. Instead, they thought of Richard.

The day after the reading of the will, the three sisters sat Richard down at the kitchen table in the old farmhouse. Their husbands were all outside, at the behest of their women folk. Richard felt a little awkward and uneasy, not knowing what his cousins had in mind. So, he was stunned when they told him.

They knew that Richard had recently lost his own mother and father, so they all shared the same loss and were all in mourning. They also knew that Richard’s father, and mother, had run into a world of bad luck, having lost their farm and were nearly destitute when they had died. Leaving Richard with little or nothing at all really. Each of the three girls were happily married and comfortable in where and how they lived with their husbands… so they suggested, or rather, asked Richard if he would consider taking over the old farm.

At first Richard didn’t understand what they were asking. He thought they might have meant to be a caretaker until it was sold. Yet, when they finally made him understand that they were giving the farm to him, free and clear…he just… he broke down and cried. They all cried. The oldest sister pulled him into a hug and explained quietly into his ear that her father, his uncle Pete, had always thought of Richard as the son he never had. He would have been proud to know that Rich had taken the reigns and ran the farm after him.

It took a couple more days working with the lawyers and lots of papers signed and waivers endorsed before finally and legally Richard’s uncle Pete’s farm… was his. Richard was a land owner and a farmer. As such he also inherited, not only the farm, the house, but a small fishing shanty on the shore of Arrowhead Lake. That’s where he was headed this evening, after another long day of roof repairs and fencing. Rich needed to relax, he loved fishing and fishing at night for some tasty catfish was what he intended to do.

Richard had only been to the shed twice since he became the new owner of his late uncle’s farm. The first time, he had discovered that uncle Pete had a nice little getaway in the fishing shanty. It was rough, no heat or running water or plumbing of any kind really, just basically a shed with some cupboards, a small gas stove, a few pots and pans and dishes to eat off of, a kitchen table and chairs. The linoleum on the floor was faded and brittle where it wasn’t curling up. There was a fly strip hanging from the bare bulb over the kitchen table. While there was only a little flour and cornmeal along with salt and pepper and a few other spices in the cupboard, there was a little stash of liquor behind all that. Three bottles of assorted rotgut, nothing expensive or even good as far as Richard considered. Judging by the amounts in the bottles, his uncle Pete didn’t drink much of it anyway. Still though, the little shanty was neat and clean.

Was… that night as he rolled up to the shanty, his headlights shining on the porch and door, Richard thought something was amiss. First of all, the screen door was open, not closed like he had left it the last time he was here. Rich turned the key off on the old truck and rolled down his window. The sounds of crickets and frogs, almost overwhelmed the ticking of his truck’s engine cooling. Not hearing anything out of the ordinary, Rich shrugged his shoulders and opened the door and climbed out of the truck.

Walking around to the back of the truck and dropping the tail gate, Rich reached for the old Coleman lantern. He lifted it up and shook it next to his right ear to see if he had any fuel left in it. The sloshing sound let him know it was fine. Rich pulled out the little plunger and pumped it a dozen or so times to pressurize the white gas fuel in the tank. He then pulled out a box of wooden matches from his tackle box and drew one out to scratch it on the tail gate. Holding the ignited match up under the edge of the lantern’s glass globe lighting the mantles as he slowly turned on the gas. With a POP the mantles ignited and the glow grew to a bright white light pushing the shadows back in all directions.

Richard reached into the back of the truck and picked up his tackle box and two fishing poles in one hand and the lantern by its bale in the other hand. He was just turning to go back around the truck and towards the shanty when he heard tires on gravel coming from behind him. Rich stopped and turned to see what the noise was and saw a pair of headlights cutting through the darkness, bouncing along the gravel road.

***___***___

Walter groaned and reached up with his right hand to brush at his right ear. Damned mosquitos he thought, buzzing around his ear. Can’t let a damned fool sleep. He was just about to fade back into unconsciousness when he heard what he thought was a car door close with a thump. Sitting up a little straighter from where he was collapsed on his butt on the floor against the wall of the old fishing shanty. Walter blinked a few times trying to clear his foggy eyes.

At first, he thought he heard what sounded like light rain on the roof, but as he listened it dawned on him that it was more like tires, on gravel… and it was getting louder. Walter’s heart started beat a little faster, and his mouth ran dry.

***___***___

Cam saw the old pickup truck drive slowly past the poker shed. He didn’t recognize it from any of the locals that he knew to frequent this end of the lake and the fishing shanties, so he decided to investigate. He put down his clipboard that he had been writing his report on searching the poker shed, and started his cruiser’s engine. He backed around and turned to follow the old truck.

***___***___

Deeny sat on the old glider holding her mother’s hand. At some point her mother rolled her hand over and clasped Deeny’s hand in return. The two women leaned their heads towards each other, one older, one younger, both gently resting against one another savoring the intimacy of a mother and daughter’s love.

“Why does he do it mamma?” Deeny asked in a voice so soft that only her momma could hear it.

Caroline almost gasped with the quick inhale of night air, almost as if she had been holding her breath. She squeezed Deeny’s hand a little more firmly for a few seconds as she searched her own mind for an answer to that question. Deeny could feel the warmth of her momma’s tears on her own collarbone and it made her heart trip a few beats.

“He… He was…” Caroline began, still struggling for words. “Your daddy wasn’t always this way. When he was a boy, he was very shy. People thought he was dumb or touched in the head. The other kids, even his brothers and sisters made fun of him and picked on him. They were so cruel.” Caroline spoke haltingly as she dredged her mind for memories.

“Daddy? Shy?” Deeny asked in surprised disbelief.

“Yep. Shy as a mouse.” Caroline professed with a slight nod of her head. “I knew him even then, he lived on the next farm over from where I grew up. We were neighbors. I was the youngest of my brothers and sisters, I often snuck off to see your daddy. We would wander around in the woods between our two farms, exploring. He didn’t seem so shy when it was just him and me. He would talk to me and tell me stories that he had read. You didn’t know your daddy was a bookworm when he was younger did you?” Caroline asked her daughter… a heartwarming touch of pride in her voice.

“I know he likes to sing when… but, a bookworm?” Deeny stumbled and almost brought up the drinking.

“Those songs he sings? He read them before he heard anyone sing them. They once told him he had what they call a photographic memory. He could read something once and remember it completely, forever. He always made good grades in school, which made the other kids hate him that much more. Well, most did anyway. Some of the other girls started to realize, like me, that there was something there worth getting to know.” Caroline said as she slowly pushed with her legs to set the old glider in motion, gently forward and back.

“So, he has always chased girls…women…?” Deeny quizzed.

Caroline harumphed quietly then sucked in another long beath before going on.

“No. Not exactly. He was still shy, but… as he got older, like we all do, he started paying more attention to girls. All girls, not just the pretty ones. He had a way about him that just drew them to him. He wasn’t chasing them or being rude or vulgar like most other boys do. Some never grow out of it. Your daddy never was that way. As he got older, he grew out of his shyness, slowly. Learning to talk to girls and even to flirt. It wasn’t until his older sister made a man out of him that he started to change into what he would become.” Caroline spoke as if in a bit of a trance, remembering things, about her husband, and herself.

“Wait! What? Daddy’s sister? Are you saying that he… he had sex with his sister?” Deeny gasped pulling her head back to turn and look at her mother’s face full on.

Caroline bit her bottom lip and her brows furrowed in thought. Perhaps she shouldn’t share that part with her daughter just yet… but it was done, the cat was out of the bag so to speak. It was true, it happened. Caroline saw the whole thing… she was… part of it. Another long deep breath and she leaned her head back as if to stare at the ceiling of the porch overhead.

“Your daddy’s sisters were… well… bullies in their own right. They picked on him and teased him endlessly. But, when he started to mature, and fill out, growing from a frail gangly boy into a man, they began to see him as something else. A temptation. He was a boy they could toy with, they could boss around and dominate. By the time we were in high school, your daddy and I, there was only himself and two older sisters still living at home on their farm. The older brothers had all gone off on their own, getting married and starting families. One older sister did the same.” Caroline recounted.

“We were in our senior year of high school just two days after my eighteenth birthday and two weeks after his. Neither of us had any money or worked anywhere other than on our farms so the only gifts we exchanged were… favors. We always helped each other with chores and things but birthdays were special. They required extra effort… or fun. Like fishing. We both loved to fish back then.” Caroline smiled at the memory, then frowned as she continued with her story.

“One weekend afternoon your daddy and I had planned on going fishing. We had dug up some worms and got our fishing poles and I packed some sandwiches for lunch. We were just about to leave for the big pond on the back of the farm when the youngest of his two older sisters caught us in the barn… kissing.” Caroline said with the hint of a dreamy smile on her lips.

“We were… well… getting a little carried away. I had pulled my blouse up so that he could touch my breasts. He was always so gentle and kind. His lips… they were magical. We were both startled when she started laughing at us. I was so embarrassed. I couldn’t pull my blouse back down fast enough. Your daddy stepped in front of me as if to protect me from her.” The words tumbled from her mouth as the memory replayed itself in her mind.

“She… she laughed at me. I was mortified. She taunted me and your daddy telling us, telling him, he needed to be with a real woman, not a girl. I was shocked when she pulled up her own shirt, and bra, to show us her tits. Compared to mine, they were huge! At least they were in our eyes. She held them in both hands, pushing them together and shaking them. Her fingers and thumbs pinching her nipples and pulling and twisting them. I… I couldn’t take my eyes off of them.” Caroline stuttered a bit, her blushing face not able to be seen in the darkness they were sitting in.

“She flashed her tits at the two of you? That doesn’t sound so bad really.” Deeny stated with a questioning lilt in her voice.

“Oh, she didn’t stop there. No sirree! She sauntered right up to us, still groping her tits, watching her younger brother’s eyes as he watched her hands on her nipples. Standing face to face, she asked him if he wanted to touch real tits… to know what they felt like.” Caroline paused, another deep breath and a slow sighing exhale.

“He did. Awkwardly and hesitantly. He raised his hands and touched them, ever so lightly. Until… his sister grabbed his hands and mashed them to her tits. His hands stayed there when she let go. She touched the side of his face, a caress really, with one hand. Her other hand grabbed his crotch. Your daddy was so surprised he let go of her tits and nearly jumped out of his shoes. She had a hold of his cock right through his jeans. I… I almost ran away… but I was stuck in place like my feet had grown roots.” Caroline explained.

Deeny sat there next to her mother, mesmerized. If she closed her eyes, she could almost see her mother and father in that barn. Her heart was beating a little faster and… and she felt a warmth and all too familiar itch between her legs.

“His sister shot her hand out and grabbed me by my wrist and pulled me a step closer to her and your daddy. She bought my hand to his crotch to rub his growing cock through his jeans. She taunted him, and me, asking him if I had ever touched it before. If he had even showed it to me before. Of course, I had seen it, but when we were both younger, just kids really. Until we both got as old as we were then, it had not crossed our minds to… to explore each other. I mean we were, but we hadn’t gone that far yet.” Caroline half giggled and half sighed.

“So, she rubbed your hand on his crotch… and?” Deeny asked with baited breath… surprised that she was so interested in her mother’s story.

“Well, your daddy and I both were a little confused when his sister got down on her knees in front of us. In a flash, she had his belt unbuckled and his fly open. Before either of us could even think of what to do, his sister had his pants and underwear down to his knees. It was the first time I had seen your daddy’s cock since we were kids. I think it was the first time his sister had seen it as well, because she stopped talking. No taunting, no teasing, no words at all for a little bit. She just looked at it and slowly brought her hands up to touch it.”

“She touched it?” Deeny asked almost breathlessly.

“She did. And it was growing. Girl, I was young, but I had learned in school what happens. I grew up on a farm. I’ve seen animals of all kinds. I wasn’t entirely clueless, but… I was just as awestruck as his sister.” Caroline said wistfully, remembering that day like it was yesterday.

“Daddy was getting hard? Imagine that, two girls letting him feel them up and… but his sister?” Deeny asked again.

“Yes. His sister. When she got over her surprise, she shocked the two of us. I had never even heard of kissing a cock. I had no idea what a blow job was… until that day. When she put her lips on the head of his cock and sucked him into her mouth, I think I wet myself. I couldn’t look away. I didn’t want to look away. Part of me wanted it to be me who was kissing and… and… sucking on his cock. His sister just looked up at him and looked into my eyes… and winked. She took her mouth off his cock and just stroked it up and down with her hands. All the while talking, questioning, taunting and teasing. Somehow, I found myself on my own knees, in front of your daddy, next to his sister. She was still stroking his cock with one hand. Her other hand was on the back of my neck urging me, pulling me towards his cock.”

Deeny fought the urge to squirm, the itch in her wet kitty was turning into a fire. She could feel herself flushing, her face warm. The soft voice of her mother, telling her this story was unbelievable. Yet, it was so real, so… entrancing. She almost held her breath, waiting on her mother to continue.

“I did… I kissed your daddy’s cock, for the first time in my life. It was so… soft… and yet so hard, and… alive. It twitched when my lips touched it that first time. When I let it slip between my lips and into my mouth, I could feel it pulsing with my tongue. It was like his heart was beating in the head of his cock. Oh, if I had only known how true that would be for the rest of his life…” Caroline sighed, her mood darkening just a bit.

“As I was licking and… sucking… on your daddy, his sister sat back on her behind and undid the buttons of her jeans. Before I knew it, she had pushed them down and off her legs. Legs that she spread wide and both of her hands went to her kitty. A dark hairy bush covered all if it, but she used her hands to push the hair aside to show it to your daddy, and me. She asked him if I had ever shown him my kitty. If he had ever touched it. She asked if he had ever touched any girl before. Teasing him with the lewd display. Her lips spread wide and her fingers going in and out of her hole making a wet sloshy sound.” Caroline recalled, almost dreamlike in her speech.

“It was like… a dream? No. It was real, but it didn’t seem real at the time, it was like I was watching from outside my own body as it happened. Your daddy’s sister reached out to him with one hand, beckoning him down to her, there in the hay on the floor of the barn. He… he took her hand and knelt down. His eyes were locked on hers, she pulled him down to her face and kissed him. I froze. I wanted to scream that he was mine. I wanted to pull him away from her, but… I couldn’t. I watched as he returned this kiss. Him kneeling over his mostly naked older sister, her legs spread wide, her tits bare to the world and his… his cock… throbbing… just inches from her wet hairy gash between her legs.”

Deeny couldn’t help it, she let out a soft moan as her abdomen drew tight. Her own thighs rubbed slowly against one another as she and her mother gently swung back and forth on the glider. The heat in her own crotch was now a steamy inferno.

“So… he… he, did it?” Deeny asked with a stutter.

Caroline’s grip on Deeny’s right hand grew intense even if she hadn’t realized she was squeezing so hard. Her head nodded absent mindedly before she resumed speaking.

“Yes. He did it. I think they were both shocked. His cock pushed into her hairy mess with a squishy sound. She moaned and her eyes got big with surprise. Your daddy groaned. It was like he was in a trance. Then he started moving, his bare ass clenching and his legs shifting him back and forth. It was slow at first but he got faster and faster. Then he just seemed to freeze up when he was all the way inside of her. He grunted then a long low groan came from somewhere inside of him. I didn’t know what it was at the time but he came. He came inside his sister. I think she was shocked too. Her eyes grew wild and she shoved him off of her and scrambled away from him a few feet. She stuck her fingers into her gash and they came out sticky with his cum. She screamed at him and cursed him. She got up and grabbed her clothes and ran from the barn.” Caroline recalled in her trance like state.

“Wha… what happened then?” Deeny could barely get the words out to ask, her heart racing, her throat tight.

“I was still kneeling there. I had one hand down my pants…touching myself… Your daddy… he was laying on his side, a look of disbelief on his face, his mouth was hanging open. His hands were on his cock, just holding it. It was still wet and sticky from… from the two of them. He was sweating and panting. He seemed to snap out of it then. He pushed himself up to his knees then stood up and pulled his pants up hurriedly. He was having a hard time looking at me, he wouldn’t look me in the eyes… When he finally found his voice, he told me he didn’t much feel like fishing anymore. I should go home. I asked him what he was going to do and he said he didn’t know.” I didn’t know what to think either. I had just witnessed a boy and a girl… a man and a woman, have sex. It wasn’t making love… it was raw and nasty and fast. And I took part in it too. Well… part of it. I was confused and had more questions than answers. I wasn’t even sure what questions to ask yet.”

They both sat in silence for a while. Deeny absorbing the story her mother had just told her, Caroline lost in the memory, almost reliving it again. The sounds of the crickets and the night birds sang their nightly lullaby the cicadas adding their noise to the mix. The glider gently swinging forward and back, forward and back. The itch and the heat had gone out of Deeny, now she just felt frustrated and full of questions and uncertainty.

“Your daddy and I were close… but I didn’t see him for three days after that. I didn’t know if he had gotten into trouble with his parents because of what he and his sister had done. He didn’t go to school that Monday or Tuesday. I was heart sick. Finally, I saw him on Wednesday, on the bus to school. We would usually sit together, but when I went to sit down next to him, he turned away from me to look out the window. He wouldn’t speak to me. He wouldn’t even let me hold his hand.” Caroline told Deeny, her voice almost cracking with emotion that she recalled from long ago.

“Was he ashamed? Was he angry? Was he upset with you?” Deeny let the questions tumble out before she could stop them.

“I think it was a little of all them, plus he was scared. He was scared his sister would tell his momma and daddy. He was scared that his sister would blame him for it all.” Caroline admitted.

“So, what happened?” Deeny asked with a tinge of frustration in her voice.

“His sister never did tell their parents about it. Even after she came up pregnant. She never did let anyone know who the father was. Your daddy’s parents sent her away to relatives out of state. We never saw her again. He and I worked through it all together. He told me I was the only one who knew the whole story and that… he was glad it was me.” Caroline said with a touch of pride, squeezing Deeny’s hand gently again.

“So how… how did that, turn him into…” Deeny started ask, but couldn’t quite finish the question. She knew how much her mother had suffered over the years, even if she were just beginning to understand it.

“It changed him. It was like he was split in two. Part of him was still the same sweet boy, man, who loved and cared for me, and later, you girls. But part of him, turned into an addict. He was addicted to the thrill of discovery, of conquest… of sex… especially when it was wrong. Oh, he fought it. He denied it and tried so hard not to let himself go, and mostly, he succeeded. But if he gets some alcohol in him… he’s like that story of Jekyll and Hyde.” Caroline lamented with a touch of derision.

“So, somewhere out there I have a brother or a sister?” Deeny asked enthralled by the possibility.

She jumped when her mother barked a sarcastic laugh. She turned her head to study her mother’s face, a look of shock and curiosity on her own face. Her mother had her chin almost on her chest as she slowly shook her head from side to side as in disbelief.

“No, that would be a half-brother or half-sister… or maybe a cousin… I guess it would be both really. But that would only be the first.” Caroline said rather cryptically.

If it were not such a serious subject and true life, it would have been almost comical how Deeny’s head snapped around with a double take after hearing her mother’s words. “…only be the first.”

“H… How… How many?” Deeny sputtered as if in shock.

“I don’t know if anyone really knows, honestly. It’s not exactly something that gets talked about… publicly anyway. I dare say that there are more than just a few though. They’d range from just a bit older than you, to… maybe infants…” Caroline said the last and seemed to run out of steam.

Deeny could almost sense her mother collapsing in on herself. She did feel the shiver that her mother made before she let go of Deeny’s hand and stood up from the glider. Caroline stepped over to the porch rail and leaned against the post. Her eyes were locked on the workshop across the yard, there was a sliver of yellow light coming from the partially open door. Duke was still in the shop, working on a cabinet that a customer ordered. It was a safe place for him. She knew the man she loved was hard at work both in his artistry and in his struggle to be the Jekyll rather than the Hyde. Deeny watched her momma as she watched longingly for her father.

Deeny’s heart broke just a little bit more, for her mother’s plight. To be so in love, so devoted to someone, but still knowing that they would stray and hurt you with their actions, if not their intentions. Then in a flash, the conversation that she had had with Cam that morning raced through her memory. “Oh my God!” She thought to herself. Had her father been involved in that shooting? And was he the cause of it? She knew that he had been drinking earlier that night.

Standing up, Deeny joined her mom at the rail, placing her right arm around her momma’s waist and leaning her head on her shoulder. She felt her mother take a long deep breath and sigh slowly. Deeny could feel the tension pouring out of her mother’s body with just the simple act of the hug from her daughter.

“Deeny… you mustn’t say… anything. I shouldn’t have told you what I did. People just wouldn’t understand.” Caroline spoke quietly, her body regaining some of its tenseness as she awaited her daughter’s reply.

“I won’t, momma. Your secret is safe with me.” Deeny professed to her mother just as quietly, and she meant every word.

Deeny felt her mother relax into her, and she leaned her head against her daughter’s. They both saw the sliver of light around the door of the workshop go out, it would only be a moment or two before Duke emerged from the shop. He was finished working for the night.

“Now why don’t you run along and go to bed. Tell that sister of yours that it’s time to go to sleep. And Deeny…” Caroline said turning to look her daughter in the eyes. “Thank you.” She added then kissed her daughter on the forehead before turning her and swatting her on the backside to get her moving.

Deeny smiled to herself as she pulled the old screen door open and went into the house. “Wow!” she thought to herself as she climbed the stairs on the way to the bedroom, she shared with her younger sister Lee.



The small table lamp was still on when she entered the room. But… Lee was sound asleep slumped over her open text book, her head laying on her arms. Deeny reached out a hand and lovingly pushed a stray lock of hair off her sister’s face and back over her ear. “God she’s so pretty.” Deeny thought for maybe the thousandth time. She envied her little sister for her looks, and her innocence. Envied, perhaps, but she loved her even more than that. She would do anything for her baby sister.

“Hey, sleepyhead. Wake up long enough to get into bed why don’t you? Come on, it’s just a couple of steps away.” Deeny spoke softly as she gently shook Lee’s shoulder.

***___***___

The cruiser slowed to a stop just a few yards from the back of the old pick up, now parked out front of one of the old fishing shanties. A man was standing behind it holding a lantern in one hand and a pair of fishing poles and tackle box in the other. Cam didn’t recognize the tall lanky fellow, but he knew instantly it was definitely not Walter Wainwright. After her turned off the engine, Cam grabbed his hat and opened the cruiser door and climbed out. He placed his top on his head and then reached in and turned off the headlight of the cruiser. Now the only source of light was the old lantern the man was holding.

“Evenin’ deputy.” Richard spoke first.

“Hi there.” Cam returned as he slowly walked forward, his eyes searching his peripheral vision for shadows or movement that might suggest anyone else was around.

“Can I help you with something?” Richard asked, curious as to why the young deputy was making a visit out here at the lake, in the dark.

“Actually, I’m looking for someone. The Sheriff would like to talk to him if we could just find him. You haven’t seen anyone around here, have you?” Cam asked, coming to a stop just a pace away from Richard.

“Well, I’m just getting here myself. I’ve not seen anyone though. You’re welcome to look around if you want.” Richard said in his relaxed rumbling deep voice.

Cam relaxed a bit, not sensing any threat from this tall stranger. He did tense for a moment as Richard bent over and set the tacklebox and the fishing rods on the ground before straightening back up and offering his hand. Cam reflexively extended his own hand and shook the large calloused hand that was extended to him in greeting.

“Richard, Richard Alva Burton. I kind of inherited a small farm here in Helton from my late uncle Pete. Pete Winslow.” Richard offered by way of introduction.

“Yeah, yeah… the Winslow place. I remember hearing something about that. I’ve been out there a few times. I actually dated one of his daughters when I was in school a few years back. I hear she got married after I went off to join the army.” Cam said while still shaking Richard’s hand.

“That’d be Sissy, I’d venture. Cecilia… we all called her Sissy though.” Rich said as the two men released their hands.

“Yeah, that’d be her. I called her Sissy too. She wouldn’t have it any other way.” Cam added with a chuckle. Cam cleared his throat and in a more serious voice continued speaking.



“Sorry for your loss… Rich?”

“Thanks. It was hard to lose my uncle Pete and aunt Minnie, especially so soon after losing my own folks not long before that.

Cam could see the tightening of the skin around Richard’s eyes at the mention of the passing of his aunt and uncle, and his parents. He decided to change the subject. Cam reached down and picked up the tackle box and fishing rods for Richard.

“Gonna do some night fishing, I take it.” Cam said flexing the tip of one of the rods as if to test the sensitivity.

“I can see why you’re a cop, you’ll make detective in no time.” Richard retorted with a grin.

They both laughed as they walked towards the porch and the front door of the shanty. Richard raised the lantern to shine light on the door so he could unlock it with the key he had just pulled from his pants pocket. As he stepped up to the door, something crunched under his boot. Looking down, both men noticed the sprinkling of broken glass in front of the door, just a few pieces really, but still it was out of place.

Cam touched Richard’s arm to stop him from opening the door. Then he held his finger up to his lips signaling for Richard to remain quiet. They both stepped back off the porch a few paces, all the while carefully watching the old door.

“Are there any firearms in there?” Cam asked while setting down the tacklebox and the fishing poles.

“Not that I’m aware of anyway.” Richard said, then added. “There are some knives for cleaning fish and eating though, and a small axe for chopping firewood for the stove.”

“Okay, so we don’t just go in blindly. He might not be in there, but better safe than sorry.” Cam said.

***___***___

Walter had seen the glare of the headlights when the old truck had pulled up to a stop out front of the shanty. There was no electric to this little hideaway, so it was dark, but his eyes had long since adjusted to the ambient light coming through the dirty windows of the shanty. When the lights had gone out though, he began questioning his mind if he had actually seen the light in the first place. He’d almost convinced himself that it was a dream when the lantern flared to life.

Someone was outside. Walter nearly panicked. There was a back door leading out onto a porch and then down to the edge of the lake. But the door had a hasp and a padlock on it on the inside of the shanty. There was no way he could open that door to escape out the back. That left only the front door that he had unlocked by breaking the glass with his elbow and reaching in to unlock the door.

Walter had nearly psyched himself up to bolt out the door and take his chances that he’d surprise whoever it was and be off and away before they could react… that is… until he heard the sound of tires on the gravel road for the second time. Peeking around the doorway from the small kitchen into the front room and the front door, Walt saw that a second set of headlights had come to a stop outside, just before they went out. In a moment he heard voices speaking but it was too far away to hear what they were saying.

Now what was he going to do? Was it the law? Were they going to shoot him? Isn’t that what they do to fugitives wanted for murder? Shoot first and ask questions later. Walter’s heart was pounding in his chest and he had broken out into a cold sweat. His legs felt weak and his hands were trembling. What was he going to do? Pulling back from the doorway, Walt stumbled on an empty liquor bottle that went spinning across the linoleum floor to shatter against another empty next to the wall by the back door.

***___***___

Cam and Richard both heard the breaking glass and looked at one another. Cam drew his revolver and used his other hand to motion Richard to set down the lantern and get back behind his truck. Cam scooted closer to the shanty and pressed up against the wall just off the front porch where he could lean out and see the door. With his free hand, he drew his flashlight out and readied to turn it on. His heart was beating, and his adrenaline was pumping through his system. Not even strong coffee could quicken his pulse and sharpen his concentration faster than this.

“Walt? Walter Wainwright… Are you in there? Cam called out loudly.

There was silence. Well… figuratively speaking anyway, the frogs and crickets and cicadas and night birds were all still making their racket. Cam looked to the truck and could just make out Richard poking his head around the side to watch. Just as he was about to call out again, a voice rang out from inside, muffled by the wooden frame and the door of course.

“Wh… who’s out there?” Walter shouted, his voice tight and hesitant.

“Walt? Is that you? This is Cam… Deputy Cambrick.” Cam shouted in response.

“What do you want?” Walt yelled back.

“We just want to talk with you, Walt. The Sheriff wants you to come in to the station and sit down and talk with him about… about what happened last night.” Cam said then bit his lip.

“L… Last night?” Walt stammered trying to think, trying to stall maybe.

“Yeah, Walt. Someone got hurt. I’m sorry, it was your wife Vivian, Walt. We need to talk to you about that. About what happened.” Cam shouted, trying to tone it down so that it didn’t seem so threatening.

Walt slid down the wall until he was sitting on the floor again. His eyes were squeezed tightly closed but the tears still found their way out and down his cheeks. His chest felt tight as if an elephant were sitting on him. He had shot Vivian instead of Duke. How could he hurt her. He loved her more than anything in the world… even if she had been doing… that…to Duke. It had to be Duke’s doing. He’d cast his spell on other women that he knew of. Why did he have to go and do it to his Vivian?

Walt choked back another heartbroken sob, pressing both his hands to his face as if to hide his anger and his shame from the shadows there in that small shanty kitchen, in the dark.

“Walter? Could you come out here where I can see you to talk to you? It would be much easier to talk without all this shouting.” Cam offered, hoping to get Walt to come out. He would know if he was armed with anything if he could see him.

Walter considered that for a moment. If they were going to shoot him, maybe it was for the best. Just stand up and walk out and it would all be over in an instant. But before he did that, he had to know. He had to know about Vivian. Did he…

“Walt?” Cam chanced one more shouted prod, crossing his fingers mentally.

“Vivian? Is she… is she dead?” Walt shouted the question, his voice faltering and breaking, just like his heart.

“What? No! She’s okay Walt. I mean she’s a little sore and all but she’s definitely not dead!” Cam shouted back, a little alarmed by what Walter had asked, until he realized that Walt had been drunk at the time and had run off before the dust had settled.

Walt’s hands dropped away from his face. His eyes were wide open and his heart skipped a beat when he heard the deputy shout that Vivian was okay. A surge of adrenaline coursed through his veins and he stood up. Walt ran his hands up across his face and back over his greasy head of hair as he pulled himself erect. Still leery about possibly being shot, he went through the doorway into the main room of the shanty and over to the front door. Peeking around the edge of the door to look out the broken glass, all he could see was the lantern shining brightly where it sat on the ground in front of the old pickup truck.

Cam heard movement behind the door and raised his flashlight, ready to turn it on to blind Walt when he stepped out. His other hand held his service revolver but his finger was not on the trigger, and it was pointed down towards the ground.

“I… I’m coming out.” Walt called nervously, before slowly turning the door knob and drawing the door inward to open it.

The door opened and a shadow separated itself from the darkness within. Walter stepped hesitantly out onto the porch. When he had stepped fully out of the shanty, he was blinded by a flashlight shining directly into his eyes. Instinctively his hands shot up as if to surrender and partly to block the light from his eyes.

Cam had his flashlight trained directly into Walter’s eyes. When both hands came up to block the light, it was clearly evident that Walter was not armed, or at least didn’t have anything in hand.

“Walt. I want you to stop right there. Keep your hands up where I can see them, okay buddy?” Cam called out forcefully, but no longer shouting. This was command tone, clearly enunciated and spoken.

Cam watched Walter freeze on the porch. His cheeks were wet from tears recently shed, his eyes were bloodshot and reddened. He was a physical wreck, dirty clothes, greasy hair, a two-day growth of beard. Cam lowered the flashlight from Walt’s eyes to shine on his greasy filthy tattered shirt.

“Walt… step forward and off the porch, carefully, mind that step.” Cam commanded.

Walter kept his hands up and slowly stepped forward a couple of feet and this stepped down off the porch onto the gravel. His chest was rising and falling, his heart still racing. Any second now he thought, but then would he even feel it if he was shot?

“That’s good, Walt. You can stop there. Now, turn around slowly, that’s right all the way around. I just need to see that you don’t have any weapons on you.” Cam said a little more softly this time.

Walter obeyed the command and spun around slowly in place. When he got back to where he started, the flashlight clicked off and it seemed like it suddenly got darker. For the first time since waking up a little while ago, he thought there might just be a glimmer of hope.

“Is… Is Vivian really okay?” Walt stammered uncertainly.

“Yes, Walt. She’s okay. She’s home now. I’ll take you there after we go in to the station so you can talk to the Sheriff. Maybe we can get you fed and cleaned up a bit. You hungry?” Cam asked as he quietly re-holstered his revolver and slipped the safety strap back over the hammer.

This was not missed by Richard who came slowly, maybe a little warily, around the back end of the truck and approached the lantern and picked it up. Walter watched him as he distractedly answered Cam’s question, fully aware that his stomach just growled.

“Y… Yeah… I could eat something I guess.” Walter said bashfully as he looked Richard up and down.

“Walt, this is Rich… Richard Burton, He’s just moved here recently. Rich, this is Walter Wainwright.” Cam said in way of introductions.

“I’m… I’m sorry I broke into your place here Mr. Burton… I’ll pay to replace the broken glass and well to clean up a bit.” Walt said sheepishly.

The introductions were awkward, for sure, but they went quickly and soon Cam had loaded Walter in the back seat of the cruiser and said his thanks and good byes to Richard. He promised that he would come see him for information to make his report. If he wanted to press charges, he could do so then. Richard declined to press charges, saying that we all go through trying times, no need to make it worse over something so minor. He did say he’d like to know the story about what happened though. Cam smiled and said he’d sit down and tell him about it, maybe over some beer and catfish. Both men shook hands again and parted ways with smiles. Richard going inside his inherited getaway fishing shanty, and Cam driving off with Walter in the back seat of the cruiser.

***___***___

Duke took one last look around his workshop, the current piece he was working on was nearly finished by the tool bench. All of his tools had been cleaned and put in their place, the wood shavings and saw dust had been swept up and discarded. With a longing that bordered on that of a man dying of thirst, he eyed the half full quart jar of moonshine on the top shelf of the tool bench from where he stood by the door. His hand on the light switch, about to turn the lights out… Duke had to close his eyes and will himself to turn and exit the door.

Caroline was still standing at the porch rail, now leaning on the post with her left side so that she was at the top of the short stairs. She watched as Duke made his way slowly across the yard towards the house. He had both hands in his pockets and even in the faint light of the stars and the rising moon, Caroline could see that he had his head down in thought. She had seen Duke like this many times before. He was fighting his inner demons. She knew that at heart he was a good man. He loved her and the girls, there had never been a doubt of that, ever. She wished more than anything that she could fix him so that he wouldn’t struggle as he did.

Duke seemed to sense her presence in the dark shadow of the porch so he stopped at the base of the stairs. With her standing on the porch and he on the ground, they were nearly eye to eye when Duke looked up from his feet. Caroline had her hands clasped in front of her at her waist, probably to keep from wringing them or making a fist he thought to himself.

With forlorn expression and sad eyes, Duke looked into the face of the woman he had married some twenty years ago. He saw hurt and pain, and stubborn resistance and a glimmer of hope… and something that melted his heart. Duke saw the eyes and the love of the girl he grew up with, and had loved more than his own life.

His eyes clouded with tears blurring his vision, his bottom lip and jaw trembled even as he clenched his jaw muscles tight to keep from blurting out a stream of apologies and promises that he knew she wouldn’t believe or even listen to. Caroline’s face was a feminine reflection of his own, her lip trembling as well. She reached out her hands, bringing them to the sides of his face to draw him to her chest. His face nestling in the hollow of her throat, just above modest neckline of her dress and apron.

The act was so motherly that Duke couldn’t help but to catch a sob in his throat as the tears began to spill out of his eyes and onto her neck and collar bone. He shook in her hands as she ran them to the back of his head and caressed his neck and shoulders. Caroline’s own tears were streaming down her face and running into Duke’s hair.

“Baby… I’m so… so…” Duke began, but was shut down by his diminutive wife.

“Shh… Shh… Shh… Don’t speak… I know… I know… Shh…” Caroline cooed.

“I… I love you babe. I’ve always loved you…” He managed to get out before she quieted him again.

“Shh…” She said as Duke wrapped his arms around her waist and squeezed her fiercely.

They remained standing there in that embrace for a few more minutes before Caroline pulled back and took Duke’s hand in hers and drew him up the stairs to lead him into the house. The door was closed, and the kitchen light soon was turned off. The old house grew quiet as the four souls inside it lay down to sleep.

***___***___

Cam opened the back door of the cruiser and shook Walter’s shoulder to rouse him from sleep. They hadn’t been on the road from the Shanty to the sheriff’s office five minutes before Walt had either passed out or simply fell asleep. Cam curled his nose and turned his head as he got a good whiff of the reeking odor coming off of Walter’s body.

“Wh… Huh?” Walter grunted, slowly opening his bleary eyes.

“We’re here, at the Sheriff’s station Walt. I need you to climb out of the car and turn around, okay?” Cam instructed Walt in a friendly voice.

“T… turn around?” Walt asked even as he did so.

“Yeah, procedures. I need to put my cuffs on you till we get you inside. I’m sorry, but that’s the rules, Walt.” Cam explained as he clipped on his handcuffs, maybe a little more loosely than was regulation.

“Now, I don’t think the sheriff is in just yet, so why don’t we get you cleaned up and fed and find you a place to lay down and sleep for a bit?”

“Oh, okay… that sounds good. Can… Can I maybe call home… to talk to Vivian?” Walter asked apprehensively.

“I’m sure we can arrange that, Walt. But we might ought to wait till morning. Wouldn’t want to wake anyone up in the middle of the night, would we?” Cam assured Walt and opened the door to the station for him.

Looking up from her little oasis of light coming from her banker’s style desk lamp, Old Betty leaned back, taking the dangling cigarette from her mouth and blowing out a cloud of smoke. With the same hand she flicked a finger on the stems of her pushed up glasses so that they fell into place on the bridge of her nose. The lenses flaring and reflecting the light from the lamp.

“Well, what in the hell do we have here?” Betty asked in that gravelly voice of a heavy smoker.

As they neared the desk to sign in, Betty recognized Walt, and her weathered heavily made-up face drew into a smirk that might have scared most men. She replaced the cigarette to her lips and took the log book with both hands and spun it around so that it was facing Cam.

“Walter? Walter Wainwright? Is that you?” Betty asked, in a condescending tone, as if teasing him.

Walter looked more embarrassed than frightened though. One of the things about small towns is that most folks know most everyone else. Some know others far better than they have call to actually. Old Betty used to be a younger woman once upon a time. As such she was often employed by various families in the area to be a babysitter. Betty used to babysit Walter and his younger brother and sister quite regularly in fact.

“Betty, Walt here will be our guest, until after the Sheriff speaks with him in the morning. I’m going to take him back to the showers and let him get cleaned up. Maybe we can find him a jumper to wear after he gets out.” Cam said calmly, giving Betty a sidelong look to let her know he was being diplomatic.

Betty harumphed and almost went into a choking coughing fit, having to take the cigarette out of her mouth again to get a handle on her breathing.

“Yeah, pup. I think we can find him a jumper to wear. Maybe we should find him a bed to use so he can lay down and sleep a while too.” Betty said with poorly disguised mirth as Cam spun the log book back around to face her.

“Are there any sandwiches left in that vending machine in the break room?” Cam asked as he took Walter’s elbow and began leading him around the side of the desk towards a door to a hallway going deeper into the station.

“Why? You feeling lucky… or suicidal maybe?” Betty chortled pushing her glasses back up to the top of her forehead, already bending her head back down to the book she was reading.

Cam took the cuffs off of Walter and had him strip down. He showed Walt the shower room and went to get him a jumper, while he bathed. Most “guests” of the Sheriff’s lock up were issued the bright orange jumpers that most correctional facilities used. While Walt had not technically been arrested, he was still being detained for questioning and would be spending the night in one of the lock-ups.

When Walt had bathed, and dried. He dressed in the jumper and a cheap pair of flip flops for his feet. Cam led him to the staff’s break room and had him take a seat at the table. A handful of quarters later, Walt was eating a questionable egg salad sandwich and a bag of potato chips and washing it down with a can of ginger ale. By the time he’d taken his last sip of the soda, Walt’s eyes were nearly closed. Cam got him to stand up and led him down the corridor to an empty lock-up. Walter didn’t argue or complain, he simply sat down then leaned over and stretched out on the bench style bed and was out like a light.

Cam shook his head and stepped out of the room closing the door behind him and locking it. Looking through the little viewport window once more to check Walt, who hadn’t moved a muscle Cam shrugged and smiled. Cam returned to the bull pen out front and sat at his desk. He pulled out a report form and inserted it into his typewriter. He began filling out his report, detailing what he had done and how he had located Walter.

Twenty minutes later, after going out to his cruiser to retrieve the small pistol from his trunk, Cam pulled the door to the evidence room closed again and locked it. He stretched his arms wide and rolled his shoulders while yawning. Looking at his watch, he realized that He still had several hours on shift yet before he could call it a night and go home to sleep. He could either go out and sit with Betty and share some wonderful conversation… yeah right! Or go drive around on patrol. He waved to Betty on his way out.

***___***___

It was raining. The sound of it falling on the tin roof outside of Tom’s bedroom window was like a murmuring lullaby. So soothing and comforting… He just kept his eyes closed and was adrift on that warm soft quiet place between sleep and waking. That all changed when a flash of lightning lit the curtains around his window and the crash of thunder that followed it seemed to shake his bed.

Tom groaned and threw his covers back before turning and sitting on the edge of his bed. Rain was never welcomed first thing in the morning. So much to do and so little time already, but rain… well… it slowed things down and complicated everything. Another flash of lightning and the following thunder roused Tom to stand and begin getting dressed for the day.

J.D. was sitting at the kitchen table with a cup of coffee in one hand and a cigarette in the other as Tom came down the back stairs and headed for the door. The old man looked at him crossly with one eyebrow raised in silent question, but he refrained from saying anything to Tom. His mother, on the other hand, called to him from the stove where she was cooking, to put on a slicker before he went out, lest he catch his death of cold from the rain.

Tom grabbed the heavy rubber impregnated canvas poncho from the coat hook next to the door before stepping out onto the back porch. He held the poncho in his hands as he looked out across the yard towards the barn and out buildings, watching the heavy rain fall. The ground looked more like the surface of a pond than solid ground. Tom groaned again and pulled the poncho over his head and shoulders and stepped off the porch at a run towards the barn.

Tom made quick work of feeding the animals and mucking the mule’s stall. As he was putting away his rake, he felt a drip of water fall from the roof of the barn. Tom sighed knowing that it would be left up to him to climb up on the roof and fix that leak, but not this morning. He had to get a move on or he was going to miss his bus. Dashing from the barn to the back porch shouldn’t have been a big deal, but as luck would have it, he slipped and ended up sliding on his ass for a third of that distance. Thoroughly soaking his jeans and the back of his shirt as the poncho trailed out behind him. Tom was disgusted with himself as he stood up and trudged the remaining distance to the porch.

Peeling off his boots, just inside the back door and hanging the poncho back up on the coat hook, Tom heard his mother exclaim under her breath. She was reluctant to say much with J.D. still sitting at the table, again glaring a hole through Tom as he forked in another bite of his breakfast. Tom nodded his head to his mother in acknowledgement and then darted up the back stairs to his room. As fast as he could he peeled off his soaked clothes and redressed with dry ones. He knew in his gut that he was going to be late… but he still tried.

Tom’s mother handed him a paper sack as he stood up from putting his boots back on by the back door. There were no words exchanged but the sad smile let Tom know that she cared and that she loved him. Grabbing the poncho again, Tom stepped out onto the back porch and though it had slacked up a bit, it was still raining heavily. With a sigh, he darted off the end of the porch and trotted down the gravel drive towards the road. He was almost there when he saw the old yellow school bus ramble past the drive, never even slowing down when the driver didn’t see him standing at the end of the lane.

Tom slowed to a halting disbelieving walk as he watched the bus go around a curve down the road and vanish, the sound fading in the distance. Tom shifted his bundle of books from one arm to the other under the poncho and in doing so the paper bag that his mother had given him fell out of his hand and landed in a muddy water filled rut by his feet. Looking down at the bag as it slowly submerged, Tom sighed and kicked at it in disgust. Turning in the direction that the bus had vanished, Tome began walking.

***___***___

Deeny silently cursed the rain as she once again reached up to wipe the condensation off the inside of the windshield so that she could see the road ahead. The wipers were slapping back and forth but they just didn’t seem to be able to keep up with the falling rain. Lee was running her fingers through her curly hair trying to prize out some of the water that had soaked her. She and Deeny both had gotten wet when they dashed from the back porch to the old Chevy under the big oak tree.

Lee had an umbrella, but the both of them couldn’t have fit under it, and besides, the rain was almost falling horizontally, so why bother? Lee had worn her fuzzy pink angora sweater this morning… that had had to come off as soon as they climbed into the car. It was soaked through, definitely fuzzy no more. Luckily there had been an older beige cardigan left in the front seat from the day before, she slipped that on over her damp white button up blouse that topped her gingham skirt. Her penny loafers were going to be squeaking when she walked at school today.

The two girls were running a little later than usual today, between the rain and the foggy windshield, going a little slower only seemed prudent. Even at the slower speed however, they were probably going much faster than would be safe. The heavy rain obscured the road ahead, especially going around the curves in the twisting turning road they were on.

Tom trudged along through the rain. His boots already soaked through to his socks and skin, slapped wetly on the pavement. The rain hitting the hood of his heavy poncho almost masked the sound of tires hissing through the standing water on the blacktop… almost. Sensing imminent danger, Tom half turned in the direction of the fast-approaching sound behind him.

Deeny had just swiped her hand across the inside of the windshield again when she caught the watered down splash of dull yellow almost right in front of the old Chevy. Reflex alone caused her to yank the steering wheel to the left to cause the old car to swerve to avoid the yellow blur. This caused the car to careen over towards the ditch on the other side of the road, Deeny yanked the wheel back to the right while she stomped both feet on the clutch and brake pedals.

Despite the age of the car and worn tires, the old Chevy rolled dutifully back to the right even if the back end started to swing out of control to the left. If a car was going to fishtail, this was the weather for it. Inside the car it seemed as if time had slowed down to a crawl. Deeny’s shocked but determined expression contrasted to her younger sister’s abject terror. She had not seen the yellow ghostly figure in front of the car. All Lee had seen was the world turning radically sideways, not once but twice and now it was changing again, in barely more than the blink of an eye.

The hissing of tires changed to an almost terrifying drowned screech, then into a choppy barking sound as the fast-approaching car swerved at the last moment to avoid him. Instinctively, Tom leapt backwards towards the side of the road, but it was too late, the car careened from side to side of the road before…

Realizing that the car was going into the ditch, Deeny’s arm shot out in front of her sister Lee, as if that small motion could save her. Lee’s own hands both shot up and her arms crossed in front of her face as she too realized that impact was NOW.

Call it luck, call it fate, call it just plain weird but it whatever it was, it was definitely miraculous considering the situation. The car did run into the ditch, on the correct side of the road, or at least the driver’s side front wheel did. The driver’s side back wheel was just inches higher on the shoulder. The Chevy had shuddered to a halt looking like Deeny had tried to drive into the ditch going the wrong direction on the road. The front tire had hit an old sign post, or part of one that was sticking up through the shoulder, and blown out that tire.

Tom recognized the car about halfway through the traumatic meeting, his mind flashing instantly to concern for the occupants. He dropped his books and ran to the car now some hundred yards or so down the road. Breathless when he arrived, he slapped his hand on the passenger side window to get the occupants attention. He could barely see inside for the windows being steamed up.

Deeny sat still, her left hand and arm locked on the steering wheel, her right hand clutching the front of Lee’s cardigan. She could feel her sister’s heart beating, and it was every bit as fast as her own. With wide eyes she turned to look at her sister and was about to ask if she were alright when a shadow appeared at her sister’s window and a ghostly hand slapped at the glass excitedly.

Lee jumped under her sister’s hand and recoiled towards Deeny’s side of the seat when a hand pounded on the glass next to her head. She heard a muffled sound and repeated pounding on the window. The adrenaline surge still flying through her veins made it hard to make out what the thing or person was saying.

“Lee! Lee! Are you okay?” Tom shouted breathlessly over the sound of the heavy rain hitting the metal roof of the old Chevy.

There was movement inside the car, but still no response. Tom’s heart was racing and for some reason the thought of Lee in pain or hurt just seemed to add to the urgency. He had to know she was alright. He was just reaching for the handle to open the door when he saw a hand wipe away the condensation inside the window. A shocked and somewhat bedraggled face looked out at him.

Lee heard her name, muffled by the roaring in her ears and the rain drumming on the roof of the car, but it was her name. Fighting her initial fear, she sat back up and wiped at the inside of the passenger side door window to get a better look outside. She saw him. His face twisted in… in fear…and concern? The relief that crossed Tom’s face when he saw her was measurable. It also sparked something deeper inside of her. It tugged at something in her heart.

“YOU!” Deeny roared from beside Lee.

Deeny released her death grip on Lee and turned to open her own door. It took two tries but she managed to finally push the heavy door open, and instantly the rain pelted her. She stopped just short of setting foot outside of the car when she realized that she’d be stepping into a water filled ditch.

“UGH!” Deeny lamented, pulling back into the car. She had to stretch way out to pull the door closed again though.

“Tom?” Lee asked, still a bit shaken, after she rolled down the window on the passenger side door.

“Y…Yeah… Are you… are you okay?” Tom asked again, worry heavy in his voice.

“I’m okay, I think. How…how did you get…” Lee questioned as she tried to make sense of the situation.

“I was walking. I missed my bus…” Tom said, his eyes averting and his face coloring a little red from embarrassment.

“YOU… You don’t walk…in the MIDDLE of the ROAD!” Deeny fumed from the other side of Lee, both hands on the wheel gripping it in frustration.

“I’m… I’m sorry… the rain…” Tom began to explain, but stopped, knowing the it would only sound like an excuse.

Lee then started to understand what had happened, the pieces coming together in her mind. The sudden swerve of the car… Deeny had swerved to avoid hitting Tom with the car. Her heartbeat doubled again and sudden concern for his wellbeing leapt to the front of her thoughts.

“Are… Are you okay, Tom?” Lee asked and then wiped the rain from her face as it was collecting on her long eyelashes.

“I’m… I’m okay. Just wet. Wet and late for school… again.” He added and turned away again embarrassed, again.

Lee laughed and reached out the same hand that had wiped the rain from her face and grasped Tom’s that was still holding the car door handle causing him to look back. First, he glanced at her hand on his, then up and into her face and those eyes… those mesmerizing blue eyes. He was lost. He was so lost in those eyes that he barely even registered Deeny’s comment.

“Yeah! We’re ALL going to be late today!” Deeny said angry and frustrated but also relieved that no one had been hurt.

It was Tom that seemed to snap out of it first this time. He stepped back to look at the old car and how it was situated on the shoulder of the road, partly in the ditch. Since the back wheels were both on solid ground, he suggested Deeny try to reverse out of it. She took a couple of tries but got the engine started again, along with the blue cloud of exhaust of course.

With a groan and a sucking sound, the driver’s side front wheel came out of the ditch. It was immediately apparent that the tire was flat though. Tom asked if they had a spare tire. At this point the rain had slacked off to barely a drizzle, almost a mist really. Deeny turned the engine off and set the parking brake before opening the door and getting out on the shoulder. She handed the keys to Tom.

Tom opened the trunk of the old blue Chevy and found the spare tire, the jack and the tire iron. He popped the hubcap off the wheel, then loosened the lug nuts on the flat tire. It was a little tricky to get the jack situated on the shoulder gravel so he could raise the car up to get the wheel off. With the spare mounted and lug nuts tightened, he lowered the car back down, then put the flat and the tools back in the trunk.

Deeny and Lee climbed back into the car and had it restarted in a flash. Tom had started walking back to where he had dropped his books, thinking that they were going to be a mess. They’d be soaked through at very least. Deeny wiped away at the foggy windshield and paused seeing Tom walking back in the wrong direction. Lee had seen it too, and her left hand reached out and rested on Deeny’s right wrist on the steering wheel. Lee turned her head to look at her sister, no words were spoken, but the silent plea was understood all the same.

Deeny put the Chevy into gear and eased out the clutch while giving it a little gas to get the car rolling along, going the wrong direction for that side of the road. She rolled down her window and leaned her head out as she pulled up alongside of the walking young man.

“Hey… you need a lift?” She asked, causing Tom to slow a bit and turn.

“I’ve probably caused you enough trouble today, haven’t I?” Tom asked, not being sarcastic but undeniably downhearted.

“Well, yeah… You could have been a little more careful walking, but… it wasn’t all your fault.” Deeny said, her face coloring a little as she admitted that it wasn’t entirely his fault.

“Besides, you changed the tire, that’s gotta count towards something.” She grinned at him before continuing.

“Come on, I’ll give you a ride to school… I was going that way anyway.” Deeny said as she nodded her head towards her sister in the seat beside her.

“Yeah! Come on Tom. If we’re going to be late, we might as well be late together!” Lee added from the passenger side.

“Alright then, let me just grab my books up here.” Tom said with a sheepish look, a look that Deeny had to admit was kind of cute. A thought that was reinforced by the excited and thankful grip her sister had on her right arm.

Deeny turned the old car around in the middle of the road with a three-point turn, coming to a stop as Tom ran back up the car on the passenger’s side and climbed into the back seat. The car was rolling again before he even had his door closed.

***___***___

“So, tell me about this Wilding wingding.” Yvonne said to Cam as she leaned forward to cross her forearms on the counter top in front of her, across from his half empty coffee cup.

Cam shrugged as he set down the doughnut, he had just taken a bite of. He brushed the crumbs off his fingers with a napkin as he chewed. He looked across the counter at Yvonne with his head tilted slightly to one shoulder as he tried to figure out her interest in the yearly barn dance. It was almost an institution around these parts. He swallowed, then reached for his coffee to wash it down.

“It’s an annual dance… Big bonfire, costume contest… just an excuse for folks of all ages to gather and let off some steam. Why? You want to go this year?” Cam asked as he gave Yvonne a knowing grin.

“I don’t know… maybe. Do you have to have an invitation or a date to attend?” Yvonne asked rocking her head slightly from shoulder to shoulder and raising one eyebrow.

“I don’t think you have to have a date, and no, there are no invitations sent out. At least, not the last time I attended it anyway. I’ve been away for a few years.” Cam said with another shrug of his shoulders.

“Do you have to wear a costume?” Yvonne asked with a sly grin spreading on her face, chewing on her bottom lip.

“I don’t suppose so, but most people do, it’s kind of fun, people not knowing who you are. For some it’s like a free pass to do things they wouldn’t ordinarily do… like dancing or… other things.” Cam said looking Yvonne directly in the eyes and winking, his own smile more of a smirk really.

Yvonne felt a little tingle at the thoughts that flashed through her mind, the possibilities… then she saw a flash of light blue over Cam’s shoulder. Deeny’s old car came roaring into the parking lot, the gravel crunching under her tires, the ever-present faint cloud of blue smoke trailing the car as it came to a stop.

“Well, it’s about time girl!” Yvonne spoke softly to herself, but Cam heard it and turned to look over his shoulder following her line of site.

Deeny set the parking brake with a stomp of her left foot. She reached beside her to grab her small purse and pushed the driver side door open to get out. She was pretty much soaking wet but there was no avoiding it, she didn’t have time to go home and get a change of clothes. Her shoes squished and squeaked as she trod across the wet gravel to the front door of the diner.

When she first came through the door, the look on Yvonne’s face confirmed that she was much later than usual. Then Yvonne’s expression softened into one of concern as she took in Deeny’s appearance and she hastened to the end of the counter to meet her.

“Girl? Did you drive through a river or something? You look like you’re soaked to the bone!” Yvonne said with concern handing Deeny a bar towel to dry off a little.

After closer inspection, Yvonne shook her head and said that just wasn’t going to cut it. She took Deeny by the elbow and directed her to the back room of the diner. The back room doubled as storage and a break room of sorts. Yvonne went to an old set of lockers in the corner by the door and took out a short uniform dress similar to the one she was wearing. It was one of her own, and would probably be a little big on Deeny, but at least it was dry.



“Here, strip off those wet clothes and put this on. Dry off with some towels before you put it on though. I’ll cover the floor till you get dried and dressed.” Yvonne said, even as she eyed Deeny up and down.

The sight of Deeny in the wet clothes was a jolt to Yvonne. Her heart raced and her mouth watered. It was even harder to turn away and leave when Deeny pulled her soaked dress over her head revealing her tight stomach and perky breasts even if they were encapsulated in that wet baby blue bra. Yvonne felt her breath catch and she had to dart out of the room before she reached out to touch the younger woman.

Deeny hadn’t been completely oblivious to Yvonne’s lustful glances. She herself had felt a surge of… excitement… when she pulled her wet dress over her head. She was nearly naked in front of the older woman. She had the impulse to simply walk up to her and wrap her arms around her and pull her tight… to bring her lips closer… so much closer… She shook her head as if to clear that thought and began toweling off.

“So, what’s the story?” Cam asked Yvonne when she came back to the front of the diner and was refilling his half empty coffee cup.

“She didn’t say yet, I was more worried about her catching her death of cold in those wet clothes. She’ll be along in a few minutes and you can ask her yourself.” Yvonne said in a distracted voice before moving down the counter to refill other cups for customers.

***___***___

Lee had pulled her hair back into a pony tail in hopes the wet hair would at least dry out during class and she wouldn’t look like a drowned rat. She and Tom rushed up the steps to the front doors even as the first bell rang. Other students were rushing about heading to their own classes. Many a squeaky wet shoe on the tile floor making it clear that the two of them weren’t the only ones caught out in the rain this morning.

Aside from his hair being plastered to the top of his head, Tom was mostly dry. The old rubber coated canvas poncho had kept him remarkably dry. His books, on the other hand, were still dripping water as he too rushed down the hall. At the junction of two hallways, he paused to look at Lee. She in turn, also stopped for a moment and looked at him. They both smiled sheepishly.

“See you at lunch?” Tom asked hopefully.

“Okay…” Lee responded with a smile that had her bottom lip being chewed and her eyes crinkling a little at the corners.

They both went their separate ways… Both walking backwards so as to watch the other until Tom had to make a turn down another corridor. They were oblivious to everyone else around them but others took note of the two. In particular one fiery redhead who was red in the face, as well as three girls at her side. Sylvia Redmon was not happy at all to see Tom making such googly eyes at that country bumpkin Lee Simmons. The nerve of that tramp trying to win her Tom over away from Sylvia herself.

“Well, that looked all warm and fuzzy.” Rita Fuller commented in a stage whisper loud enough for anyone to hear.

Delores Bennet had to bite her tongue to keep from giggling. Trina Wainwright didn’t seem to notice, she was kind of off in her own little world really. She was just going through the motions walking with Sylvia and the other girls.

“Rita! I swear to God, if you say another word, I’ll… Just shut it!” Sylvia snarled and turned to go to her first class.

***___***___

Annie stood at the kitchen sink, her hands resting on the front edge, her body pressed against them. Her eyes were looking out the window above the sink, but she wasn’t seeing anything outside. Her mind had wandered as it had so many times in the past. To happier times, when she was younger. When J.D. was younger and… She swallowed and a single tear rolled down her cheek.

He hadn’t always been this hard and cruel. In younger days he had been a sweet kind younger man. The man she fell in love with had made her feel like she was the queen of the world. She had met him after she came home from college in Kansas City. She had wanted to be a school teacher and was working as a substitute teacher here in Helton. They had met at the Wilding dance that year. This tall gangly man dressed as a Union Soldier from the Civil war took notice of her and asked her to dance.

They danced all night. They shared cider and even a couple of harder drinks that were to be found secreted in by more than a few. After the dance was over, J.D. had asked for her phone number and if it would be okay to call her to maybe go out sometime. Of course, she said yes.

J.D. had brought her flowers every time he came calling. He would drive them all the way to Kansas City to see movies every Friday night. Eventually she brought him to dinner to meet her parents in Kansas City and they too fell in love with him. It wasn’t long before there were wedding bells in the air and life seemed magical.

Things changed though, after they were married. J.D. had expected Annie to give up the idea of working and stay home and be a housewife and mother. They had jokingly talked about it, or so she had thought, while they were dating. She thought the idea was cute and… well… quaint. She had no intention of giving up teaching. That’s what she had gone to school to become.

There were arguments. J.D. had insisted that she quit teaching and stay home. She had to cook and clean and take care of the house. She would be doing the canning and preserving of the garden goods. And, eventually raising his children. Not “their” children… “his” children. It galled Annie to do it but in the interest of keeping her husband happy, she gave up her dream of teaching. They tried for children, often. It would have been more enjoyable if J.D. had been the same tender caring man that had courted her. Instead, he was almost cruel. It was never making love, it was just something that had to be done to make her pregnant. It became a chore for her, there was no joy in their couplings.

Two years into their marriage and nothing had taken. Not even close. J.D. began to say that he thought she might be barren. It couldn’t have possibly been his fault. He became more and more bitter. Annie felt the weight of the world on her shoulders, depressed and mistreated. He had never struck her but the abuse was verbal and emotional.

It was at one of the annual Wilding dances that life took a change of direction. Annie had agreed to go with J.D. again. For him it was something that he simply had to do, dressing up in his old Union Soldier uniform every year. He didn’t dance anymore but he sure found something to drink. Every year he got drunk. Falling down drunk. Mean drunk.

That year Annie found herself sitting in the shadows away from the bonfire and all the dancing. She watched the other couples longingly, her heart aching for the love that she once knew and felt. Life was just not fun anymore. Then he sat down next to her and asked her if she were alright.



Duke Simmons. Although Annie didn’t know who Duke was at that point in time, but he was kind to her. Duke joked with her and made her laugh. He even asked her to dance. It was all too much for Annie, she was overwhelmed and she loved the attention. Duke shared a couple of hard cider drinks with her…apple cider with something added to it to spike it up a bit. She was feeling no pain and having a wonderful time… then Duke kissed her.

The world came to a screeching halt around Annie when her lips met Duke’s. The music faded away, the crowds disappeared… her very universe collapsed down to just her and Duke. A dam broke within her and she clung to him as if her life depended on it. He held her tight, but in a loving way. It made her heart beat faster and her insides quiver and shake.

She found herself in his arms in a secluded little dark corner of the hayfield. The clover was fragrant and soft beneath their naked bodies. She opened her eyes and looked up at the stars as Duke kissed her all over her body. He kissed her in places that no man had ever done before. It was magical. Her first orgasm nearly scared her to death… but then when she realized that it was a good thing she wanted more. Duke was happy to oblige and did things to her body that she would never forget.

Eventually he entered her, as her husband would. His cock was far bigger than J.D.’s and even though it hurt at first, from the stretching, it made her feel so… full. Duke had to put his hand over her mouth the first time she climaxed while he was inside of her. Her body writhed and spasmed over and over. If she had died right then and there, she would have been the happiest woman on earth she thought.

All good things come to an end though, and that wild Wilding tryst was no different. Duke climaxed and filled her with his seed. He lay there atop of her still kissing her and making love to her even after his cock shrank and slipped out of her. Annie had fallen asleep in his arms, or passed out perhaps. When she awoke, she was alone, her dress draped over her like a blanket.

After a couple of minutes of panic when she realized what she had done, Annie got dressed and headed back towards the barn and the party. She found J.D. sitting with some other men, all of whom were drunk. She told him that she wanted to go home. He was so drunk that he didn’t even argue. She helped him to the truck and she had to end up driving back to the farm.

Once home, J.D. had passed out as soon as he had been helped to the bedroom. Annie took his boots off but didn’t bother to undress him. Instead, she went to the bathroom to change into her night gown. In the bathroom she took off her dress and found herself covered with small bruises. They were all over her body, her neck, her arms, her stomach, her breasts… even her inner thighs. They weren’t bruises… they were hickies! Oh God!

Annie had cleaned herself up as best she could, when she felt something running down her legs. It was coming from inside of her. It was… She grabbed a washcloth and wiped and wiped and wiped. Eventually it stopped leaking out. She sat on the toilet and wrapped her arms across her chest as if to hug herself. The memory of Duke and the love he had made to her made her swoon. Her heart was torn. Why couldn’t her own husband treat her that way?

The memory of that night stayed fresh in Annie’s mind. Every time J.D. would charge her with her wifely duties, she would lay there and pretend it was Duke. It didn’t help much but it made it tolerable. All that stopped though, one morning several weeks after the dance, Annie came up late. Her period had always been like clockwork before. It was late this time however.

Feigning sickness, Annie made a trip to her doctor. The news was startling. She, Annie, was pregnant. J.D. was beside himself with joy. It was almost as if he had changed back to that kind younger man that had first won Annie’s heart. The pregnancy would be the last time she was happy for a long, long time.

She had a baby boy. A strapping blue-eyed, dark-haired baby boy. The questions began as soon as the baby opened his eyes and the blue was apparent. J.D. had brown eyes, his parents had brown eyes, his siblings had brown eyes. J.D. had blonde hair, his whole family had blonde hair. Annie herself had blonde hair and brown eyes. So, how did this baby boy have black hair and blue eyes?

Poor Tom, he never understood why his father hated him. He didn’t know that J.D. suspected that Tom was not really his son. The cruelty and harshness just seemed to grow with each passing year. Each year as the boy grew bigger and stronger and matured into a man, he looked more and more like his real father. Duke. To his credit, J.D. never asked Annie outright if the boy was his own. Instead, he just grew more and more bitter and hateful.

It was thoughts of this that went through Annie’s mind as she looked out the kitchen window over the sink that afternoon. The boy’s eighteenth birthday was just days away. He would legally be a man then. He could choose what to do with his life. Annie suspected that He would be leaving the farm, leaving the hatred and bitterness that J.D. heaped upon him at every turn. He would be leaving her as well though, and that would hurt worse than anything she had ever had to deal with. It broke her heart.

***___***___

Caroline hurried the last few steps through the rain to the workshop and pushed the door open to enter. It took a few moments for her eyes to adjust to the low lighting inside the workshop. It was puzzling to Caroline because usually the shop was well lit. Today, however, it was only lit by a small lamp on a work bench near the back wall of the room.

As she pushed the door closed again, Caroline surveyed the room. This workshop, his workshop, where Duke shined and worked magic in wood and varnish creating furniture. All his creations were handmade and unique. He could make something out of raw lumber with just the skill and his imagination. Or, he could duplicate a piece so closely it would look like it was the original rather than a copy. Many customers sought him out to replace broken pieces of family heirlooms or heritage pieces.

The cabinetry was honest work and it paid well enough that they existed comfortably at least. Duke was always at his happiest when he was engrossed in his work… so Caroline took pause when she saw her husband sitting slumped over on a work stool, his arms crossed on top of the bench and his head laying down on them. A handsbreadth away, in front of him on the bench, was a mason jar, still closed with the lid and ring. It was half full of a clear liquid. Caroline knew full well it was alcohol of some sort. Her gut twisted inside of her… had he been drinking?

The dozen or so steps from the door to her slumped over husband’s form seemed to take forever. Caroline extended a hand out slowly to touch his hunched shoulder as if she were afraid to disturb him, or afraid of what she might feel. Her heart seemed to still, her breath held tight in her chest. Her fingers made contact and were flooded with warmth. Duke jerked slightly as if surprised.

Duke raised his head from his arms and slowly turned to look up at his beloved Caroline. Her heart nearly melted when she saw the mixture of despair and sadness in his eyes… but more importantly, the love. She knew in her heart that he loved her more than anything in the world, save possibly for their two daughters.

Caroline stepped closer and pressed her body to Duke’s back. Her other hand going to the back of his head even as she leaned down and kissed his head. She felt his body shudder as he gasped in a lungful of air.

“Caroline… I’m so… so sorry.” Duke barely whispered; his voice thick with emotion as he leaned back into her.

“I know, my love… I know.” Caroline murmured as she wrapped her arms around his head and drew him tighter into her breast.

Duke’s big strong calloused hands rose from the bench top and settled as gently as a summer’s breeze on Caroline’s forearms. She could feel hot tears leaking from his eyes onto the skin of her arms as she rocked him in a motherly hug.

“I can’t go on like this… I’ve hurt you so many times. I’ve never meant to hurt you. You are the only one I’ve ever loved. I’ve hurt so many over the years. I’ve wronged so many with my… with my weakness…” Duke all but sobbed into Caroline’s arms as she rocked him gently standing behind him as he sat on the low stool.

Caroline felt more tears dripping onto her forearms, but she realized that they were her tears. Duke’s lament ripped at her heart. The boy she grew up with so many years ago still resided inside of this man. He was lost deep inside, but he was there, reaching out, trying to hang on to the only woman that had ever truly loved him… that had really mattered. All the rest were just infatuations fueled by too much drink and carousing. The lust in this man was like a living thing, when unleashed with alcohol it ran wild. If only she could curb that lust.

Caroline gently turned Duke’s head causing him to spin around and face her. She then moved her legs around to sit in his lap and draped her arms around his neck. She looked deeply into his reddened swollen eyes seeing the plea for understanding and forgiveness shining like a beacon of hope. Her lips tightened as her heart melted just a little bit more, then she leaned in to him and mashed her lips to his in a passionate kiss.

Duke felt the fire on his lips even as Caroline’s hands held the back of his head, running her fingers through his hair. Her chest was rising and falling with the heavy labored breathing just as his own did. Her breasts were barely restrained by the bra she had on under her thin summer dress. His left hand was on her left hip, as she was cradled in his arm and on his lap. His right hand drifted up her thighs and across her abdomen feeling her squirm and quiver at his touch.

This was lust… this was love… there was no alcohol involved here, this was love… their love for one another, as it had always been… and hopefully they both thought, as it will always be. They broke there smoldering kiss for a moment to draw back a bit and look into one another’s eyes as they gasped for breath.

Caroline felt Duke’s right hand slide up her chest to cup first one then the other of her breasts through the rain dampened dress she wore. She shivered, not from the coolness of the damp material drying in the woody aromatic air of the workshop, but from anticipation. She longed for his gentle touch. Duke could play her body the same way he worked his tools while creating furniture, artistically, with deft subtlety and finesse.

Caroline’s hands had not been idle by this point either. Her left hand had drifted down from Duke’s neck, across his collar bone to the buttons on the front of his shirt. She deftly unbuttoned them one at a time until she had reached his navel. Her fingers then teased the loose heavy linen material open enough to slide her hand inside and ran against his hairy chest. His breath quickened, at her touch, just as hers had to his grasping.

With an unspoken agreement, Caroline stood up off of Duke’s lap and he grabbed the bottom hem of her summer dress and lifted the damp material up over her hips, higher up over her breasts and finally over her head and extended arms. The dress settled to the floor as it was dropped from fingers that longed to return to her ivory skin that was now textured with goosebumps.

Caroline reached for the remaining two or three buttons and freed Duke of his own shirt. His arms encircled her, drawing her once more into his lap, only this time her legs straddled his own. As she settled on his lap in her thoroughly damp cotton panties, and not from the rain, she felt a familiar bulge growing underneath of her.

Duke had one massive hand on the back of Caroline’s head as if cradling a baby. The other was lower on her back nearly wrapping all the way around her, his big hand warm against her skin as he gently stroked her up and down.

Pulling apart from another long passionate kiss, their tongues dueling for supremacy, darting to and fro… Caroline quickly reached both arms behind herself to unfasten her bra and slipped it off of her arms to join the dress on the floor. A smokey hunger appeared in Dukes eyes as he glanced down at the now bare fleshy orbs that had been presented to him.

Before he could reach for them in any way, however, Caroline mashed them to his bare hairy chest and resumed kissing. Her hips had begun to grind and rock of their own accord, the growing bulge in Dukes heavy denim work pants had grown to painful proportions for him. Each time Caroline ground down on him he moaned involuntarily, only to be muffled by her own groans while their tongues engaged one another.

It may have been seconds, it may have been many minutes, but as neither was watching a clock it didn’t really matter except that it felt like it had been too long. It was time. Duke rose from his sitting position on the low work stool to stand fully up, carrying Caroline with him, her legs locked around his waist, her arms wrapped around his head and neck even as she continued to draw his very life’s breath from his lips, still locked in a passionate kiss.

Once standing, Duke half turned and sat Caroline’s bottom on the surface of the work bench. Her panty-clad rear end bumped the half empty mason jar causing it to tip over and roll to the back of the bench.

Now seated on the benchtop, Caroline brought both arms and hands down to Dukes waist and frantically began to unfasten his belt and unbutton his work pants. She then pulled the front of his boxers away from his waist and they both felt his pants and shorts fall to his ankles.

With his pants and shorts out of the way, Caroline grasped, finally, the object of her desire with both hands. Duke, gasped as his rock-hard manhood was engulfed by his wife’s hot frantic fingers, they seemed to be everywhere. One hand choking the crown of his raging erection with fingers that almost but not completely touched. The other hand, gliding downward, palm flat against the underside of his shaft, her fingers searching for and finding his heavy ball sack dangling below. She cupped them in the palm of her hand, gently wrapping her fingers and thumb around them and squeezing.

They both moaned in unison. The lustful fire was burning in both of their eyes and their breathing was short and fast. Caroline felt those big calloused hands, so gentle, slide up the outside of her thighs and grasp the top of her panties. In one motion, Duke ripped them outward away from her skin and completely off of her body. He then placed his hands on her sides, above her hips and lifted her straight up.

Caroline’s legs shot out and encompassed Duke’s waist once more, as he drew her suspended body to his. He held her just high enough that the head of his raging cock was now brushing at her very wet and distended outer lips. The pubic hair, damp or not, tickled his most sensitive crown as if teasing him, or perhaps guiding him, to where they both wanted to be.

Her head tilted back and a silent scream of passion and joy tore through Caroline as she felt herself being lowered onto that big hard tool. It didn’t matter how many times she had felt this before, it still took her breath away every time. The feeling of fullness pressing in, deeper and deeper, until she thought she could take no more. Then she felt Duke’s lips and tongue on her exposed neck and throat.

There was a brief moment where Caroline wondered, a distant thought, if this was what all those other women felt too, when… but then the thought was washed away with the flood of sensation and emotion that made any thought impossible. Fully impaled on her husband, she felt his hands slide down her flanks to come to rest on her bare behind. His big calloused hands so warm… so… firm and powerful, one hand under each cheek. He held her up seemingly effortlessly.

When she felt Duke’s cock hit bottom, deep inside of her, she gasped. No longer able to breathe let alone kiss, Caroline let her face nestle into his neck and shoulder. Her arms around his neck pulled at him holding her as closely to his chest as she could manage. Her hands splayed on his back only to curl as if they were claws, her fingertips digging into to his skin.

After a few moments of perfect stillness… other than movement from heavy breathing and pounding hearts… Duke lifted Caroline… slowly… oh so slowly. Her mouth opened wide in a forlorn silent scream as she felt his swollen head drag and pull at her insides as she rose in Duke’s arms. Part of her was in near panic as the feeling of emptiness replaced the glorious fullness that had just been there. Out… out… out… then, just when it felt like it was going to be completely removed… Duke reversed.



With the same slowness, Duke began lowering his wife back downward, his penetration going deeper, and deeper, spreading her velvety sheath again. For Caroline, it was like life was returning to her body, her soul rejoiced, her body… her body trembled with excitement. Her open-mouthed silent scream changed to a rictus of intense pleasure. Her bared teeth sought out and found purchase in Dukes shoulder. The biting muffled her scream even as she felt him bottom out again and then start to withdraw for a second time.

As Duke pushed in for the second time, barely going any faster, Caroline released her bite and kissed along his neck to his ear. In a low throaty moaning voice, she barely whispered alongside his ear.

“I am yours, my husband. I always will be. You are mine! Now… fuck me! Fuck me like those other women can only dream of… fuck me like it’s the first time… fuck me like it’s the last time! FUCK ME! FUCK ME! FUCK ME!” Her cries rose from the throaty whisper to a delirious shout as Duke picked up the pace.

Duke was beyond words, his heart soaring and plunging and soaring again as he heard Caroline’s words in his ear. The physical sensations were almost overwhelmed by his emotional response. The shame and guilt he carried for his past transgressions, his cheating so many times with so many other women… was all overshadowed by the love he felt from and for this woman in his arms. His wife. His best friend since he was too young to even know what a friend was… Truly, his soulmate. His pleasure didn’t matter with this woman, it was her pleasure that he endeavored to fulfill. To show her that she owned his heart and soul despite his wandering ways.

Heartbeats turned into seconds, seconds into minutes… minutes into… timelessness. In and out, up and down. The fire of lust turned into a raging inferno… and Duke stoked the fire over and over. He lost count of the number of trembling gasping spasms that came and went when Caroline would cum. Her orgasms varied in length and strength, some harder than some, other’s soft and almost gentle. After a while it seemed to her that they all became just one long rollercoaster ride of physical pleasure. But her body was beginning to tire.

The sweat rolled down Duke’s face, his neck, his back. His arms were burning, his legs were burning, his balls were boiling. He tried so hard to hold back his growing climax… just had to hold on… this was for Caroline, her pleasure. She trembled in his arms yet again, moaning. Duke knew he was nearing his finish, the fire was on the move. He could feel it creeping up from his balls, up the root of his manhood. It was swelling. Caroline could feel it too, somehow even through her overwhelming pleasure and bliss, she could sense his nearing.

“Do it, my love… for me… I am yours always… let it go… give it to me…” Caroline rasped into his ear.

“Oh! Caroline!” Duke exclaimed with a final plunge as deep as he could go.

The floodgates opened and the lightning sprang forth from deep inside of him… to deep… deep… inside of her. Wave after pulsing wave it flowed into her core. It was too much for so little room. She was filled so completely that all of that liquid lightning began to spill out, forced out between their two conjoined sexes.

Duke’s legs began to tremble, maybe not so much from the lovemaking, or the climax, but from the overwhelming emotions that flooded through his heart and mind. On shaky legs, Duke lowered himself to a sitting position on the short stool he had been sitting on earlier. Caroline still with her legs wrapped around him, her arms and body draped limply on his chest and shoulders. He brought his hands and arms up to her back to squeeze her in one long massive hug. She buried her head in the crook of his neck and he in hers as they both wept tears of joy and love for one another.

***___***___

“And he changed the flat tire?” Yvonne asked, her eyebrows arching as if impressed.

“Yeah. I was going to do it myself, but he just sort of politely took over.” Deeny replied softly.

Her arms were crossed under her breasts, her hands holding her elbows as if to hold the oversized bodice of the borrowed waitress uniform closed. Deeny’s head was hanging down a bit and her gaze told anyone looking that she was in deep thought. She and Yvonne were standing side by side across the counter from Cam who was seated in his usual spot. He held his coffee mug in both hands, his elbows on the counter as he had listened to Deeny’s telling of her morning’s adventure.

“Sounds like the kid has his head on straight. Can’t say as much for his daddy though.” Cam declared before taking another sip of his coffee.

Cam caught the shudder and then the nervous glance from Deeny at the mention of Tom’s father. Curious, that. Shaken somewhat out of her stupor, Deeny unfurled her arms and grabbed a bar towel and wiped at the counter. She saw that Cam’s cup was only halfway full, so she turned to get the carafe from the coffee machine to top him up. She then moved down the counter to top off other customer’s cups as well.

Yvonne hadn’t missed Deeny’s reaction to the mention of Tom’s father either. She watched Deeny moved down the counter then turned to Cam with one eyebrow raised and tilted her head towards Deeny. Cam, still holding his cup in both hands, frowned and looked thoughtful himself. He sensed there was something as well, but he didn’t know what it was so he looked at Yvonne and shrugged apologetically.

“Got to be a reason for that…” Yvonne declared softly so that only Cam could hear her.

“Probably is. Damned if I know what it is though. But, a lot of people don’t think much of J.D. Branson. He’s got kind of a reputation hereabouts for being a mean bastard. I don’t know why that is but then who does? Best to just steer clear of him if you can.” Cam spoke conspiratorially to Yvonne even as he watched Deeny move about the dining room checking on customers.

As Cam was following Deeny with his gaze, he noticed the sheriff’s cruiser pull into the diner’s gravel parking lot. Cam sat up a little straighter as he wondered what his uncle would be doing stopping in here at the diner. Then, as the passenger side door opened up and Walter emerged from the cruiser the same time his uncle Gerald did from the driver’s side, it started to make sense.

“Order up!” Hank called from the pass-through window on the back wall behind the counter.

“Hank, sweety, the sheriff is here. You got a minute?” Yvonne spoke through the window just loud enough for him to hear her.

Deeny greeted the sheriff and Walter as they came through the door. Cam looked at his uncle who nodded to him and waved dismissively before following Deeny to an open booth at the far end of the Counter. Deeny poured each a cup of coffee and said she’d be right back to take their orders.

Hank came around the end of the counter through the swinging doors to the kitchen, a towel in hand as he wiped them clean. When he saw Walter sitting across from the table in the booth with Gerald he paused for a moment. Yvonne saw this and turned her head slightly leaning to one side questioningly.

“Give us a few minutes before you come to take their orders.” Hank spoke distractedly, handing the towel to Yvonne as he went around the counter.

Deeny came from the other direction behind the counter and set the coffee carafe back in the machine. She picked up two menus and two glasses of ice water before turning to head back to the sheriff’s booth. Yvonne reached out and touched her arm before she could go.

“Hank said to wait a few minutes… I think he wants to talk with the sheriff.” Yvonne told Deeny even as she watched Hank slide into the booth on the Sheriff’s side.

Hank and Walter, both eyed one another warily. Neither looking like they were very happy to see each other. Gerald was busy lighting a cigarette, he paused as he was putting the pack back into his breast pocket of his uniform. Hank had motioned with his right hand that he would like one too. Gerald grimaced and handed the pack over to Hank, even going so far as to hold his zippo lighter open and lit for Hank to get it started.

From the counter, Yvonne, Deeny and Cam could not hear what was being said of course, but they all noted that Walter looked decidedly subdued. Hank looked just as uncomfortable. The sheriff simply looked tired and perhaps a little pissed at the both of them.

“What do you suppose they are talking about?” Deeny asked softly, still curious if her father had anything to do with the “shooting” that Cam had mentioned the other day.

Cam, knew full well what they were probably discussing, but also knowing better than to discuss it with anyone outside the sheriff’s department. He simply shrugged and turned his attention back to the two waitresses across the counter from him.

“So… Deeny… you going to the Wilding this year?” Cam asked conversationally.

Deeny’s eyes snapped up and locked on Cam’s face, a startled almost panicked look in them for a moment. She realized that she was wringing the bar towel in her hands and set it down, still somewhat flustered.

“Um… Well… I told Lee I would go with her this year… so…yeah, I guess I’ll be going.” Deeny sputtered after a moment of reflection.

Yvonne had caught the look as had Cam and exchanged another questioning look with him as she turned smiling to Deeny and raised her right hand to pluck at some imagined speck or other on Deeny’s uniform.

“You’re going with your little sister? How sweet. Is this her first time… going to the dance I mean?” Yvonne asked sweetly.

“Yes, it’ll be her first time.” Deeny said somewhat more conversationally.

Deeny studied Yvonne’s face for a moment, she thought she saw something there for a moment. Curiosity, hope? Deeny got the impression that Yvonne would like to…

“You’ve never been to a Wilding dance, have you Y?” Deen asked, biting the inside of her bottom lip.

“Can’t say that I have, no.” Yvonne responded with a lilting question in her voice, her pulse speeding up a bit as hope began to blossom in her heart.

“I bet… I bet Cam here would take you if you asked him to.” Deeny suggested, immediately cursing herself for not being able to come out and ask the older woman herself.

“Oh! I’d be delighted to accompany you to the dance Y’, unfortunately, I’ll be working that night. Yeah… someone has to be on duty and I’m the least senior. Sorry.” Cam said apologetically, even as he gave Deeny a questioning glance, sensing that there was more at play here than anyone was talking about.

“Well, I guess I’ll just not be going this year either.” Yvonne sighed as she put all her weight on her left foot, and her right hand on her hip as she leaned onto the counter top.

Deeny’s heart was racing, still. She swallowed a lump in her throat then looked at Yvonne and worked up the courage to speak again.

“Would you like to… go with me… I mean, you know, tag along with me and my little sister?” Deeny sputtered nervously, looking everywhere but throwing furtive glances back to Yvonne’s face… and holding her breath.

Yvonne’s heart stopped beating… for a moment, even her breathing stopped. It was like a bright blinding light had been turned on and it was shining on her like a spotlight. Did… Did Deeny just ask her to the dance? Yvonne’s heart began beating again, more than beating it was racing. She could feel the heat rising in her face as she was sure she was blushing a little too. “Play it cool Y!” her inner voice screamed. “Play it cool!”

“Why D’! I would be delighted to… tag along… with you and your little sister. Thank you!” Yvonne said graciously affecting an air of normality. Her delighted smile and surprised eyes said otherwise however.

“Great! We’ll work out the details later.” Deeny said, all smiles.

“Looks like they’re ready to order now.” Yvonne said nodding towards the booth where Hank was still sitting with the sheriff and the other man.

Deeny, picked up her tray with the ice waters and the menus and headed down the counter to the far end to go around. Cam grinned as he watched her go. Looking up and seeing Yvonne also following Deeny with her eyes, his grin got even bigger. He knew Deeny better than most guys around these parts and he had sensed an interest with the older woman quite some time ago. Seems like things were speeding up a bit. Setting his empty cup down he stood up from his stool and reached for his hat.

“Well, I’m about ready to go off shift. I’m gonna head out and head to the house. Thanks for the coffee and the company Y. Tell Deeny I’ll see her later sometime.” Cam said with a wry smile and waved to the sheriff as he headed out the diner door to the parking lot.

***___***___

Tom came to a stop outside the doors to the cafeteria, backing up against the wall to step out of the bustling crush of other students making their way through the crowded halls. He had agreed to meet up with Lee for lunch, but it was later that he realized that he had lost his lunch that morning when he had dropped it in the rain. The fifty cents he had in his pocket wouldn’t buy much in the cafeteria. The last time he had not brought his lunch, Lee had shared hers with him. That was nice, but he felt like that was not right, she should eat her own lunch. What to do?

The smell of flowers and baby powder shook Tom out of his contemplation when something soft and warm slid next to him on either side. Lifting his gaze from the floor in front of his feet, Tom glanced to either side of him to see Rita on one side and Delores on the other. Then, standing in front of him, in a red and black plaid skirt and a bright red fuzzy sweater, topped by a cloud of bright red hair… stood Sylvia Redmond.

“Why Tom Branson… why do you look so glum?” Sylvia inquired with a playful lilt in her voice.

“Yeah, Tom. You look like someone rained on your parade.” Rita said from his side.

“Poor baby…” Delores added from the other side.

“I’m… I’m fine.” Tom spoke softly, belying his discomfort when around this trio… especially Sylvia.

“Are you sure? You look like you could use some cheering up… I can think of a few things that might help you… feel better.” Sylvia suggested, biting her bottom lip and winking at Tom as she leaned in conspiratorially.

“I’m sure I could put a smile on your face.” She stage-whispered.

Tom, though shy, was not oblivious to Sylvia’s interest in him. She was a good-looking gal, no ifs, ands, or buts about it, but there was the fact that she had history. Sylvia had used her looks to get whatever or whoever she wanted during her time in high school. There was a trail of broken hearts with her name on each and every one. He was not going to be another one on that trail. Besides… he only had eyes for Lee.

“Well? What do you say, Tom?” Sylvia asked as her face was just inches from his, her ruby red lips pursing and the smell of her perfume tickled his nose… the red painted fingernail of her right index finger slowly tracing down the left side of his face from the corner of his eye, across his cheek and down his neck to his collar.

“What would make you smile, Tom?” Silvia purred the question as she looked into his eyes.

To his credit, Tom didn’t flinch or crumble as so many boys had in the past. A smile began to play at the corners of his mouth, and his eyes lit up. To Sylvia’s chagrin, however, his gaze was not into her eyes, but rather over her shoulder.

“Incoming.” Delores whispered, causing Sylvia to pull back slightly and half turn to follow Tom’s gaze.

“Hi Tom! Ready?” Lee asked brightly as she came to a halt almost beside Sylvia, who was shooting daggers at her with her eyes.

“Y… Yeah.” Tom responded as he stepped away from the wall and offered Lee his arm.

Sylvia was still shooting daggers at Lee’s back as the two walked away. Rita and Delores stepped up on either side of her, but both had the sense to remain silent this time. Sylvia had just been denied, again! And… over a country bumpkin. Sylvia was about to explode.

“Sylvia looked like she was ready to eat YOU for lunch. Are you okay?” Lee leaned her head nearer to Tom’s and asked softly with a hint of humor in her voice.

“Yeah… Thanks for saving me.” Tom said, blushing and giving Lee a furtive glance as they neared the front doors of the school.

“Oh great! It’s still raining.” Lee said as they both looked through the glass in the doors.

“We could go somewhere else, inside.” Tom offered.

“Yeah? Like, where?” Lee asked, her head slightly tilted down shyly making her bright blue eyes look even bigger to Tom.

“I kind of like the gym sometimes, at lunch time there’s usually not many people in there, maybe a pickup basketball game or something. Or, there’s the library?” Tom offered, hoping she’d choose the library as he knew that eating there was frowned upon at best.

“I like the library too… but they don’t allow food in there.” Lee said, looking pensive while she considered both suggestions.

Both continued to stand at the doors looking outward. Tom would have been content to stand there for the rest of the day, Lee’s arm in his felt like… like… heaven. Lee was feeling much the same way, but her mind was working feverishly to find a way to expand upon this feeling. She wanted more. Then it came to her. With big eyes and a nervous catch in her throat, Lee turned to Tom.

“I know! We can go to the auditorium. That would be perfect! Plenty of seating, it should be quiet and practically empty this time of day.” She exclaimed with quiet excitement to Tom.

“Why didn’t I think of that?” Tom asked, his sheepish grin growing slightly into a shy smile.

They turned, still arm in arm and practically skipped back down the hallway past the cafeteria doors, deeper into the maze of corridors of higher education. The auditorium, was really just a large lecture room with a few tiered rows of theater style seats that arced in a semi-circle around a central raised stage. The Theatre department and clubs like the debate and speech teams as well as student council meetings. Today, however, as Lee had predicted, it was empty.

After pushing the door open and looking around to see the room was indeed empty. Lee took her arm out of Tom’s and took his hand in hers and led him into the quiet room. Tom followed along willingly, his heart still racing, and his mouth going a little dry.

Lee slowly walked down the steps from the entry door, one, two, three, each a long broad step delineating the tiers of the rows of seats on either side of the aisle. The last tier of seats had a small wall in front of them with a shelflike top. The wall separated the seating from the small raised stage by just a few feet.

At present the room was under full lighting, while not overly bright it was far better lit than when the lights over the seating was lowered and the stage was highlighted in bright contrast to the rest of the darkened room.

Lee slowed at the bottom row of seats and eased over a few seats to finally come to a stop. She gave Tom a questioning look and he shrugged and nodded his head. Lee smiled and released his hand so that she could take her purse from her shoulder and set it and her brown paper lunch bag onto the shelf in front of their seats. As she sat down in the seat, she half turned and drew her left leg under her so that she could face Tom. She smoothed her skirt down to modestly cover her legs. Tom blushed when Lee looked up and caught him watching her every move.

Rather than being put off or angry about it, Lee actually was thrilled to her core. To think that he saw her as attractive and interesting was almost more than she could hope for. She was almost flustered and her face… tinged pink as she smiled timidly and reached over to snatch her lunch bag from the shelf.

Tom had half turned in his seat as well. His right leg bent at the knee, his left leg draped over his right ankle. His eyes followed Lee’s hands as she reached for her lunch bag. Again, he swallowed and averted his eyes, only to be drawn back to her face in the next heartbeat.

“Don’t look so bashful, Tom. I know you didn’t bring a lunch today, remember? I was in the same car this morning. All you had were your soaking wet books. I can only imagine that you lost your lunch the same time you dropped your books.” Lee said with her head tipped down, and her eyes looking up at his face bashfully.

“Y… Yeah… Not my best morning by a long shot.” Tom said but didn’t explain further.

They both hazarded another glance at one another and then the ice seemed to break and they both smiled shyly at one another.

“My shoes are still squeaking when I walk between classes.” Lee said and grinned.

“Mine too.” Tom said and shrugged as he squeezed his boot on his right foot.

“Eww!” Lee exclaimed then tilted her head back laughing.

Tom thought that the heavens had opened up and a choir of angels had begun to sing. The sound of Lee’s laughter was music to his ears. His heart nearly stopped beating… for a moment. When Lee’s eyes returned to his face, she saw that look of awe and it made her own heart pause for a moment as well. They both just sat there looking at one another for what seemed like an hour even if it were only a few heartbeats. It was Lee who snapped out of it first.

Feeling blindly in her lunch bag, Lee pulled out a sandwich wrapped in wax paper. Breaking her eyes away from Tom for long enough to look down to her lap, she unwrapped the sandwich to discover it was cut in half diagonally. This was a ham and cheese sandwich, not peanut butter. Lee smiled broadly and picked up one half and extended it to Tom.

“Share with me. I’ve got more than enough for just myself.” She proclaimed, with an insistence in her voice that would brook no argument.

Tom sensed that there was no point in arguing or pretending that he wasn’t hungry so he smiled sheepishly again and accepted the sandwich. He waited, however, till Lee took a bite out of her half of the sandwich first. Just watching her bite into the sandwich made him feel funny… funny in a good way. He absentmindedly bit into his half of the sandwich, never taking his eyes off of her.

When the sandwiches were all gone, Lee pulled an apple out of the bag and held it up looking at it with a puzzled look on her face. She wondered how she might share this with Tom as well. At home, she would have simply cut it in half, one for her, and one for him. But here, at school, she didn’t have a knife. Then it came to her… and she smiled again. But a small part of her brain was shouting for joy.

Lee held the apple up so that Tom could see it and then glanced at her with a curious look. No doubt he was wondering about sharing the apple as well. But before he could offer any suggestions… Lee brought the apple to her mouth and took a little bite out of it. She then smiled a smile that Tom had not seen before and she held out the apple to him. He reached for it slowly, but stopped when Lee slowly shook her head negatively.

Okay, now he was a little confused. She offered him the apple but then implied that he wasn’t to take it from her hand. Looking again to her face he saw a look of impish challenge, one lone eyebrow raised in question. She was daring him! Taking a chance, Tom leaned forward in his seat and opened his mouth to take a nibble off the side of the apple closest to him. When he did, both of Lee’s eyebrows shot up and she smiled delightedly.

They took turns nibbling on the apple back and forth until it was little more than a core and a stem. They were both laughing and smiling while they consumed the fruit. When it was all gone, it seemed as if reality was marching back in on their little bubble of happiness. Lee reluctantly put the core in the open waxed paper and crumpled it up to put it in the empty paper bag.

As Lee leaned forward to put the paper bag on the shelf again, she half slipped and would have fallen… had Tom not caught her shoulder with one of his big strong hands. He gently pulled her back up to a near seated position. Lee’s hand came up to rest atop of his, a look of thanks on her face, competing with the embarrassment.

“Careful there. You don’t want to fall down.” Tom said kindly, a look of concern in his eyes.

“I’m just so graceful.” Lee replied, her face glowing again as she felt the blood rushing to her skin.

When she looked back up it seemed as though their eyes locked on one another’s. In an instant, the rest of the world just faded away. Lee felt herself being drawn into his gaze, her body seemed to be floating toward his as his face grew larger.

Tom stopped breathing. That look, the one in Lee’s eyes. He had seen that before, but from only one other person in his life… his mother. That was a look that he longed for… that made him weak in the knees…that made his chest swell. He felt he was falling into her eyes. Eyes that were growing larger with each heartbeat… falling… he went willingly.

Lee felt Tom’s nose brush lightly alongside of her own. Then… their lips met in a soft slow-motion collision. The pillowy softness and tender if somewhat timid touch was electrifying. Lee closed her eyes and was lost in the storm of sensations shooting through her body and brain.

When she felt Tom’s big strong hands gently touch the side of her face, she opened her eyes and drew back a bit just to be able to focus on his face. His hand was still there, feather light on her cheek where it meets her neck. His eyes were just as frantic and searching as her own as they both sought out the answers to the questions racing through their minds.

For some reason that she may never understand, Lee felt her own hands rise up from her lap and reach for Tom’s face. Her slim delicate fingers trembled as she gently touched his face. She could feel the warmth of his skin and she might have imagined it but there might have been a shiver when she touched him.

The next instant they were both lip to lip again, eyes closed and adrift in the maelstrom of emotions and sensations. Gentle kisses gave way to hungry exploration and testing. Each tasting one another’s lips and feeling tongues probe their lips and dance with one another. It wasn’t until both realized that they needed to breathe before they parted again.

As they both gazed into each other’s eyes, both of their minds filled with questions. Before either could think to put anything into words however, the bell rang to signal the end of lunch period. The sound startled both of them as much as a bucket of cold water thrown on a body would.

Snapping out of this unbelievable discovery, they both blushed and smiled sheepishly. Tom rose to his feet first and offered a hand to Lee to help her stand as well. Smiling, she took his hand and rose, reaching for her purse and the paper bag with her other hand. Tom led them to the end of the row of seats and turned to climb the stairs to the exit.

Pulling Tom to a stop just before he opened the door, Lee gnawed on her bottom lip. Her head down bashfully once more, looking up through her lashes. Tom looked at her in askance, and Lee made her decision. She stepped closer and stood on her toes to plant another quick kiss on Tom’s lips. He as a bit stunned but happily so even as she drew back and smiled.

“We’re going to have to do some more of that.” She said quietly. “If… If you want to.” She added hastily.

“Oh. I want to.” Tom smiled and squeezed her hand gently before opening the door and leading them out into the crowded hallway.

They parted ways, Lee going one direction, Tom going the other. Both walking backwards, watching the other and smiling before each got lost in the crowds rushing to class. Neither would remember anything else of the rest of that day.

***___***___

“Damn it! My clothes are still wet.” Deeny said as she took the clothes, she had worn to work this morning, off the hangers she had put them on earlier to air dry.

Yvonne, looked at Deeny through the reflection of the mirror over the sink that she was standing in front of. It looked as though Yvonne was touching up her make up, but in reality, she was just watching the younger woman with a hunger in her eyes. Yvonne longed to reach out and touch Deeny’s face, her neck and shoulders… all of her body. She longed to feel her lips on those of the younger woman.

“Oh Deeny, just wear the ones you have on home. You can bring them back tomorrow or whenever.” Yvonne said with a smile, turning to look over her shoulder at Deeny.

“Are you sure? I mean, thanks… I’ll be sure to wash them before I bring them back.” Deeny said with a shy smile knowing that she was just babbling at this point.

Both women looked into the other’s eyes and the smiles they shared with one another set both of their hearts to beating just a little faster. Deeny actually began to blush a little and she turned away, if a little reluctantly, ostensibly to fold her wet clothes into a bundle to carry home.

“Yeah, no problem, and thanks for thinking to wash them, but that wouldn’t have been necessary.” Yvonne said then tilted her head a little towards one shoulder and leaning her backside against the front of the sink, her hands coming to rest on the sink front as well.

“So, tell me a little more about this Wilding… dance? Is it a costume party kind of thing?” Yvonne asked curious to hear more.

Deeny was still facing the other direction and bent over fussing about with something unseen. Yvonne drank in the view and unconsciously licked her lips with her tongue before biting her bottom lip.

“Well… kind of. They do have prizes for best costumes, and for worst costumes…” Deeny laughed then continued. “Costumes are not required, but most at least make some sort of effort. It’s fun. People get to be someone other than their normal selves. And…” Deeny paused as she turned back to face Yvonne, straightening up holding the bundle of damp clothes in one arm.



“And?” Yvonne mimicked Deeny so as to get her to go on, while tilting her head to the other shoulder and raising one eyebrow questioningly.

“And… Costumes allow people to… “be” someone else… to do… things… that they wouldn’t normally do or are too shy or afraid to do any other time. To… take chances…” Deeny said quietly, her eyes locked on the older woman’s as she stepped closer to her.

“Oh? That does… sound… intriguing.” Yvonne said slowly as if she were lost in thought as much as she were lost in the depths of Deeny’s bright eyes.

Deeny stopped in front of Yvonne, looking slightly upward into the taller woman’s eyes, feeling just as mesmerized in the depths of those eyes looking back at her. They were almost touching, standing toe to toe. Deeny nearly swooned when Yvonne brought her right hand up and delicately ran her fingers along Deeny’s cheek to push a strand of her hair back and over her ear. It was a simple gesture but one so… so intimate… that Deeny’s breath caught in her chest and she felt her insides tremble.

Both women jumped when a loud knocking on the door to the restroom startled them.

“You two about done in there? I gotta hit the head.” Hank declared from the other side of the door.

“Yeah, yeah! Keep your drawers on!” Yvonne snapped towards the door, then turned her head back to face Deeny, but the moment had passed…again.

“I’ll wash these for you, and bring them back tomorrow or the next day after they dry.” Deeny said as she moved towards the door. “I need to git! Gotta pick up my baby sister at school on the way home. Love ya Y! See ya tomorrow!” Deeny pushed the door open and gave Hank a curious look as she passed him in the hallway on her way to the front door.

Yvonne shook her head, and took a long deep breath, they turned and exited the bathroom as well. Hank was leaning up against the opposite wall with his arms crossed, giving her an aggravated smirk. Yvonne just gave him an exaggerated grin and winked at him as she too turned and walked down the hallway towards the front door.

***___***___

Richard pushed the door open and stepped into the hardware store in town. He paused for a moment at the sound of a very angry and very loud voice to his left.

“I don’t give a damn where you had to ship it from, that’s just too damned expensive!” The voice rang out from the tall angry faced man.

The kindly old man behind the counter was struggling to be calm and understanding to this obviously obnoxious customer, but was beginning to lose his control. His hands, both flat on the countertop slowly began to curl into fists, his knuckles were white.

“That’s the price, I’m sorry, but I just can’t sell it any cheaper or I might as well be giving it away. You’re welcomed to buy it somewhere else if you can find it at a lower price. If you do, let me know and I’ll get some too.” The shop keeper told him.

The angry man just snarled and turned on his heel and stormed towards the door where Richard was standing, his hand still on the door handle. Sensing that he was in the way, Richard nodded his head in a friendly gesture and stepped to the side as the dark faced man yanked open the door and stormed out. Richard half turned and watched him go, then shook his head and turned back to approach the counter.

“A little… unreasonable?” Richard asked the older man behind the counter as he tilted his head towards the door indicating the customer who had just stormed out.

“Unreasonable?” The older man scoffed with a bark, then grinned and shook his head. “You might say that… more like a bitter mean old ass hole to be more the truth of it. J.D. Branson… I remember when he was a friendly young man. I’m not sure what ever happened to him, but I wouldn’t wish it on anyone else.” The old man said with a sigh and a sad smile. He shook his head as if to rid himself of sour thoughts and brightened his smile towards Richard.

“What can I do for you… sir?” The shop keeper asked.

“Richard… Richard Alva Burton.” Rich said extending his hand across the counter to the older man.

“You new around these parts?” the older shop keeper asked as he shook Richard’s hand with a warm welcome.

“I guess you could say that. I sort of inherited the Winslow place, from my uncle Pete.” Richard said with a sad smile on his face.

“Pete Winslow?” the older man asked as his smile tempered to something a bit more somber.

“Yeah. My uncle Pete and aunt Minnie.” Richard said. “They left the farm to their girls but none of them wanted to move back home and take it over now that they’ve all married and started their own families. They kind of got together and decided to give it to me.” Richard said sadly, his big hands spread palms down on the top of the counter as he looked down at them, but obvious to anyone he was looking inwardly.

“Good folks, Pete and Minnie. They were long time customers here. Those girls did a good thing passing along that land to someone who would love it and work it right. Been farming long?” The shop keep asked Richard.

“Grew up farming, just not around here. My folks lost their farm to the bank a few years back. I went to school but when they passed away… I decided that school wasn’t for me and I was thinking about joining the army, or navy, maybe. Then… well… here I am. I’m a farmer, again. The old place has a lot that needs fixin’ yet.” Richard said, his distracted face turning up and smiling warmly again.

“So, Richard, what can I do for you?” He asked again.

“First of all, I’m gonna need about 600 yards of that expensive barbed wire the last gentleman was upset about…” Richard said with a grin and he pulled out a handwritten list of items he was in need of for the farm.

***___***___

Gerald, knocked on the back door of Walter and Vivian’s house. He held his hat in his hands and slowly turned it with his fingers on the brim. Walter was waiting in the car. Gerald didn’t want to just let him walk back into the house without checking on Vivian first. If she was alright with him coming home that would be great, but if she was uneasy about it… well… Walt might have to sleep somewhere else tonight.

Walt sat in the front passenger seat of the sheriff’s cruiser looking through the windshield. His hands in his lap, clasped together and wringing each other nervously. He had been through hell, in his mind over the last day and a half. That drunken fight with Hank over a stupid card game, then the rage he felt when he saw… saw Vivian on her knees… doing that… to Duke. He only thought to take his rage out on him. He would have been happy to have killed him with his shot. But instead, the shot had hit his Vivian.

The blood… the scream… Walt had thought he had actually killed his wife. What kind of life could he even hope to have without her in it? Then, later, after he had been found by that deputy, he learned that Vivian was alive. His heart soared. Then it came crashing down again. What if she never wanted to see him again? He would lose her, lose his daughter… he would truly lose his mind. Gerald, the sheriff, might as well just shoot him dead if that were the case. So, nervous… he sat there and watched worriedly… hoping against hope that Vivian would let him come home.

“Vivian?” Gerald called through the screen door, then glanced back at the cruiser to see Walt’s worried face peering towards him, pale as a ghost.

“Give me a damned minute.” Vivian cursed under her breath as she shuffled towards the back door through the kitchen.

Gerald could hear tentative steps and what sounded like a cane, coming towards the screen door. Soon, Vivian appeared at the back door, indeed standing and leaning on a cane in one hand. The pained expression on her face led Gerald to assume that she was still in some pain from the… wound.

“What is it, Gerald?” Vivian asked as she looked through the back door, not being able to see Walt in the front seat of the cruiser behind the sheriff.

“It’s Walt, Viv… he’s in the car. I thought it was a good idea to check with you before I let him come in.” Gerald said and studied Vivian’s face through the mesh of the screen door.

The petite, quiet woman gave Gerald a stoic look that could have made any poker player proud. Ironically, it was a poker game that had brought them to where they were at this moment. Well, the game and all the interactions therein. Frustrations, jealousies, anger, and alcohol… a vile and dangerous combination.



Vivian, leaned a bit to one side as if to look around the sheriff. Gerald got the hint and stepped to one side so that she could see past him and into the car. Even through the screen mesh, Gerald could see the emotions warring on her still stoic face, but her eyes… it’s hard to hide your eyes if someone knows what to look for.

“Is he sober?” Vivian finally asked quietly.

“Yes, Viv. He’s sober. He wasn’t when we found him though. He’d broken into one of the shanties at the lake, not too far from the shed that you all play cards at. There was some liquor in that shanty and he… well… Viv. He thought he had killed you.” Gerald said carefully as he continued to watch her eyes and for her reaction.

“In a way… he did, Gerald. We may never be the same again… but… it wasn’t all his fault either. I…” Vivian spoke softly but broke into tears and her shoulders were shaking as much as her bottom lip was trembling. “I did something I shouldn’t have done, even if I was mad at him. I’m as much to blame as he is.” Vivian concluded and turned her face back to look at the sheriff.

“Nobody is a winner here, Viv. But I think that maybe… maybe not all is lost either. Do you think… you could give him another chance?” Gerald asked tentatively.

Vivian’s eyes softened and her brows seemed to melt along with her heart. She brought one hand with a wadded up, obviously used, tissue to her nose and eyes to wipe the tears from them. With lips so tight that she could hardly speak, and sad hopeful eyes, she asked Gerald.

“Do you think… he can give me… another chance?” Vivian asked in a strained whisper.

“I think he can, Viv. When he found out that you were still alive, he wept with joy. He knows he messed up. He knows that what you did was mostly his own fault. I think… that if you both give each other a chance and work through this, things might be a lot better from now on. You have your girl to think about. I know you both love her to death.” Gerald said… and left the unrepeated question linger between them.

After a long moment, Vivian studied Gerald’s eyes, then turned her gaze back to the car. A decision was made, and she reached her tissue laden hand forward and pushed the screen door open. She stepped carefully out of the house, using the cane, moving with a decided limp. Gerald backed to the two short steps that led from the back porch down to the gravel of the driveway. He extended his hand to Vivian and she took it and eased down the steps.

Walter saw the back door open and Vivian stepped outside. She had her eyes locked on his face as she walked carefully to the steps and down them with Gerald’s help. With his heart racing, and his mouth dry, Walt opened the car door and got out. He stood still, not knowing whether to smile or cry or just… just die. The look on Vivian’s face was clouded with so many emotions.



She came to a halt just a couple of feet from him. Vivian stared into his worried, hopeful eyes. His head was tilted down, as hers was tilted up slightly, she was shorter than he. She might as well have been ten feet tall though, the way Walter felt. He was and always had looked to the diminutive woman that he had married some 19 years ago. Vivian swallowed, and it was the first time that Walt realized that her bottom lip was trembling. But was that from fear, or anger, or something else? They both startled and jumped a bit when Gerald cleared his throat, a pace or so away and behind Vivian.

“Viv… Angel… I…I’m so, so sorry, baby. Never in a million years would I have tried to hurt you… you gotta believe me Viv.” Walter proclaimed with a croaking sound as his throat was so tight with emotions.

“No! You don’t get to apologize. Not for what happened because of something I did. I was the stupid one that night…” Vivian declared and then broke down sobbing.

Walter took the two steps between them and wrapped his arms around hers, enveloping Vivian into a hugging embrace. Her face buried into his neck and shoulder as his was into her hair. They both wept and uttered their apologies repeatedly as they gently rocked side to side.

Gerald smiled sadly and nodded to himself. He placed his hat atop his head and stepped around the two snuffling spouses. He closed the passenger side door of the cruiser and clapped Walter on the shoulder as he walked past and around the car to get into the driver side.

“You two need to sit down and have a long talk. Take care of each other now, hear?” Gerald said before climbing into his cruiser.

Both Vivian and Walter half turned and waved as Gerald backed the Cruiser through a three-point turn in the drive way and headed out to the road. As the cruiser turned at the end of the drive way, Walter eased his right arm around Vivian’s waist and helped her walk back to the porch and up the two short steps. Vivian leaned into Walter, one hand still holding the cane, and the other clasped tightly onto the hand at her waist.

***___***___

Tom had finished with his daily chores and then his homework for school. The homework was a little more difficult as he was distracted by thoughts and daydreams of Lee. The kissing in the auditorium had blown his mind. He had dreamed of Lee before, but now that he’d tasted her lips, nothing he could dream would ever be as good.

He was closing his algebra textbook when Tom heard his father’s old truck roll to a stop outside. Leaning over and looking out his bedroom window, he saw J.D. lean over the back of the truck and pick up a spool of barbed wire. Tom got up and went downstairs as he knew the old man would be yelling for him if he didn’t. Since he was big enough to walk, Tom had been treated as a pack animal, lifting, moving hauling stuff.

Tom had both hands in the pockets of his jeans as he walked with his head down across the yard from the back porch to the barn where J.D.’s truck was parked. The old man had just stepped out of the barn and paused, hands on his hips and a scowl on his face. He grunted and then walked to the back of the truck and dropped the tailgate.

“’Bout time you got your lazy ass down here. Grab those spools of wire and put them in the barn. Then get this box of nails and put it with them. Now you’ll be able to restring that fence around the pasture by the road. I’m tired of those damn cows getting out.” J.D. Gruffed as he continued to scowl at Tom.

“Yessir.” Tom spoke quietly, his voice tight with barely controlled emotion.

Tom knew that any work like that was always left to him to do… his dad was good at giving directions but never one to do any work himself. Tom hefted up a roll of the barbed wire, one in each hand and headed towards the barn. As he was going through the doorway, he saw J.D. slip a bottle out of the truck’s cab and take a long pull from it.

After Tom had unloaded the wire and nails and a few other things that the old man had brought home, he was told to “Git on back up to the house.” Tom stuffed his hands in his pockets so that the old man wouldn’t see them balled into fists as his anger boiled just under the surface. He turned when he heard the truck’s door slam shut and the engine fire to life. The old man put the truck into gear and drove back down the driveway and turned onto the road.

“Where’s your Pa headed to?” Annie asked from the screen door on the back porch.

“I don’t know mom, he didn’t say.” Tom responded as he watched the truck’s tail lights fade as it went around the bend in the road.

Tom turned and continued walking to the back porch. He turned and sat on the steps, his right leg bent at the knee with his foot on the second step, his left stretched out straight, his heel resting on the ground at the foot of the stairs.