Unfinished Short Story 4

Written In Name And Blood

Daniel’s bowler hat lay atop the oak table beside his glass of whiskey, no ice. A man who drinks whiskey never drinks with ice, this, Daniel would often comment, was because ice is used only to destroy the flavor. He propped his legs up on the table, threw his head back and finished the last of the whiskey in his glass.

The homestead was built by hand in 1878 by Daniel’s father and little more than broken boards was all Daniel could claim to be his own in the house. A black soot had settled into the thin cracks that ran along the veins of the wood until deposited in the knots. Through the stained black windows, poorly painted and with chips of wood continually breaking along the seams, Daniel noticed someone approaching with haste. He snatched his hat and made for the door.

“Can I help you boy-o” said Daniel, reaching the front steps of the porch before the young man. Daniel held in his hands a .22 caliper rifle that was stored next to the door.

“Is this Daniel Evergreen’s house?” the boy wearily inquired. He couldn’t have been more than twelve years old but the gun in Daniel’s hand shot the fear of God in the boy long before a bullet could ever be fired.

Now, I suspect a lot of things out here in these woods. I suspect that any man dressed nicer than myself ain’t from around these parts. I suspect that the scarcity of rodents around here to be a direct result of this .22 in my hands. I suspect a man who reached first to be disrespecting anything I might offer him. What I don’t suspect, boy-o, is a boy your size to give me any trouble. That right, boy-o?”

“Right, of course, sir.”

“Good, cause I am the man you’re looking for and this better be worth me leaving my chair.”

“I only bring news from the Dudley household.”

“Yes, that may be family albeit from my wife’s side. Continue.”

“Right, of course, well, they are concerned as to why they have not received any letters from their daughter in the past nine months and have filed a missing persons report with the sheriff. He has sent me here to call you down to town when you have a moment.”

“Did I hear you wrong when you said you only bring news from the Dudley household?”

“Right, sorry, I meant word from the sheriff that he got from the Dudley family.”

Daniel raised the barrel of the .22 to the boy’s eyes. “You’d be best to run boy-o. Ain’t no room for a liar in this homestead.” The boy double-clutched and nearly fell from his exertion towards where he came. Daniel hollered, “And tell your sheriff if he has something to ask me he’d be wise to get off his ass, grab that copper badge of his and come ask me himself.”

He passed through the kitchen, resting the .22 back against the side of the door. He entered into the dim-lit bedroom. Nancy Evergreen’s back rested against the center beam, mouth agape and eyes clouded over. He removed his bowler hat and hung it on the nail he drove through his wife’s forehead. “Looks like they’re playing our song, love. Do you remember the outro or are you still stuck at the crescendo?”