My fiction Work In Progress (W.I.P.)
I typically write devotionals, but like most writers of anything, there's a fictional story hidden away in my computer files. So, I've decided to pull those pages out and let you take a peek. I'll post excerpts of my work on the 15th of each month... What did I just commit to?! I'd love to hear your comments...just leave a note at the bottom. Thanks.
"Trick or Treat" - the story of good versus evil in a small
Midwest community where family, church, and school spirit come first.
Seventeen-year-old Melody, a studious, athletic, missionary-wanna-be, has always
pursued the straight and narrow way as her Christian heritage taught her. Her
best friend since forever, Jessica is a 17-year-old wanna-be model and always chooses
her own path. The ties of their friendship are fraying as the choices of adulthood
get closer and childhood mud pie memories fade away. Then, there's Liz, the 15-year-old
new girl in town who is just trying to fit in, who becomes Melody’s
disciple. Before Melody can choose to throw off her "goody-two-shoes"
and go to a Halloween party and hayrack ride without her parents’ consent, Liz introduces
her to a world she or this sleepy little town never predicted.
Chapter Three
The
Sunday morning breeze rustled the yellowed husks. Beer bottles and cigarette
butts lay scattered about. Shoe prints, tire treads, and raccoon tracks
crisscrossed the sandy soil, and tiny paw prints dotted the muddy creek bank.
__________________________________
The alarm blared from atop the nightstand and
the clock flashed 8:00. Melody hit the off button and she rolled to her side. She
lingered under the warmth of the covers and stared out the window. A bright red
cardinal sat on a swaying cedar branch. The blue sky held a few fluffy clouds
while sun rays hid behind the barn waiting to blast her in the eyes with their
brilliance. She laid in wait.
“Melody, are you awake?” Her mom
tapped on the door and called her name. “Your pancakes are ready. It’s time to
come and eat.”
Every Sunday for as long as Melody
could remember, this was the Sunday morning routine to wake her and her older
sister, Sue. And each time they answered in harmony, “Yes, mommy, we’re awake.”
But, now Sue was away at college and her neatly made bed across the room was
empty.
The smell of bacon lured her hand
to throw the warm covers back. The lanky teenager stretched her arms upward before slipping on
her pink fuzzy robe and slippers.
__________________________________
Melody heard her parents talking as she followed the sun casting light through the kitchen windows
and into the stairwell.
Tom Greene sat at the head of the
table with a cup of coffee in his hand dressed in a suit and tie for church.
“Good morning, sleepy-head. Did you sleep well?” He smiled at his daughter as
she shuffled across the tile floor.
Melody smiled and nodded “yes” then
pulled out her chair to sit beside her dad.
A plate of hot
pancakes and crispy bacon with the glass of orange juice awaited her. Her mother turned the Lazy Susan in the middle of the table so the butter and a pitcher of warm syrup
were within her daughter’s reach.
“As I was saying, Grace, Frank said
he found suspicious tire tracks down along the river bed on the north end of
the field. Rumors about odd things happening outside Bargersville are flying
around. He wants me to go with him after lunch to check things out.” Mr. Greene
ran his finger around the rim of his cup.
Grace Greene sipped her coffee and listened intently before she spoke. “Tom, you and your brother, Frank, hear rumors like
this most every fall. Sometimes they’re true, most times not, but always
disheartening.”
“It shouldn’t take us too long.” Tom Greene looked toward his daughter, “Melody, have you heard anyone talk
about 4-wheeling down along the creek by Grandpa’s field?” He stirred his
coffee as he watched her face.
“No, Dad.” Nor would
anyone ever tell me, she thought to herself. She washed down the last bite
of bacon with her juice. “May I be excused? I need to feed the kittens before I
shower and get dressed.”
They dismissed her with a nod.
__________________________________
The tall athletic teenager
tightened the belt of her robe and pulled her long dishwater blond hair out from under the collar. She tucked her warm cargo inside the robe under her arm and then sauntered
across the yard to the barn. The sun, now above the barn, barely warmed the
crisp morning air. She lifted the latch on the old door and went inside.
Three kitties attacked her fuzzy
slippers. “Meow, meow, meow.” She pushed them along to reach the preparation
table.
“Good morning, little ones.” Melody
lifted the lid of the bucket and pulled out an old coffee can with food. “Be
patient; I’m hurrying.” Their surrogate mom pulled out the warmed bottle of
milk hidden inside her robe. She mixed a little dried food and milk in an old
whipped topping bowl.
“Meow, meow, meow.” The
almost-weaned kittens twisted in and out of her feet begging for food and
attention.
“I know you’re hungry.” She
squatted down and they crawled onto her lap. “We need to give it a minute to
soften.” She gathered all three against her chest and stood up. “I don’t think
you understand a word I’m saying.” One crawled to her shoulder; another nuzzled
her robe and the third jumped to the shelf for the milk mixture. She grabbed
the food and put it and her feline babies on the dusty barn floor.
“Three little kittens lost their
mittens,” she pulled the gray one out of the bowl, “or in your case, lost your
mommy.”
A couple of months earlier, their
momma, a beautiful long-haired black cat, wandered on to the Greene’s farm and
soon gave birth to the kittens in the garage. There were two yellow tabby males,
one white-pawed gray female, and one pure black female—like the mother cat. But
last Friday night, the momma and her look alike came up missing. Melody and her
mom then cornered the three orphaned, not-yet-weaned, mischievous kittens in
the garage. They relegated them to the barn and the Greene women established
the three-a-day feeding regiment.
The kittens hopped, rolled, and
wrestled with each other after they licked the bowl dry. “Okay, you’re done.”
She picked up the empty container and cleaned off the table. The small bowl and
milk bottle fit perfectly in her robe pocket. “I’ve got to get ready for to
church.” The kittens slipped out the door when she opened it. As they ran
toward the garden, she sprinted to the house.
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