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Chapter one, beginning July 4, 2006

Posted by jeanne in construction news, Creative Writing, Rough Draft.
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‘Wait. Slow down. I’m fixing to drop it.’ This was whispered loudly, rising above the noise of tennis shoes crushing thru the kudzu.

‘Don’t drop it.’

‘It’s heavy. It’s slippery. I thought I felt him move.’

“You say that every time. Don’t drop it.’ They continued to crunch thru a kudzu-infested ex industrial back lot. In the dark. There was no way to see if they were about to step on broken concrete, a hole, or twisted rebar. It was a faith walk, like going barefoot over coals.

‘Where is it?

They stopped to peer into the darkness. ‘Over here.’

‘Are you sure?’

This was answered by silence. A police car sped by with his lights on but no siren. It was way after peoples’ bedtime, and the cop could speed by if he wanted to.

There was a light thud, as the body dropped to the ground, a grunt and a dragging sound as sheet metal was lifted aside, then the unmistakable sound of a shovel hitting dirt.

Pock pock, pock. It was almost deep enough. Just a couple more inches either way.

They spent some time stuffing the body into the hole. They said some words over the grave. They weren’t nice words. Then they went home.

 

That night, the old man and the old lady had sex. Something roused them in the night and they reached for each other with passion. It never occured to ask themselves why they suddenly got horny for each other. At their age, you don’t question these things.

 

The next day, the old man tinkers in the basement, the old lady sits at her computer, Forman brings the old couple up to date

things 1 and 2  show up telling tales and asking for money.

Meeting. Bribes, don’t care why, start asking for more.

Old couple tour neighborhood speculating about neighbors

 

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