Carolina Crimes by Nora Gaskin Esthimer

Author:Nora Gaskin Esthimer
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: short stories, crime fiction, carolinas, suspense stories, sisters in crime
Publisher: Down & Out Books

That evening, Emmett stepped onto the front porch, rubbing his belly full of steak and baked potato. He sat in his rocker, pulled his pouch out, and rolled his evening cigarette while he looked out over the farm.

The first gloom of night had painted shadows across his two barns, the deserted chicken coop, falling-down smoke-house, and moss-covered root cellar. The land was as neglected as the farmhouse and buildings around it. Abandoned crops lay wasting in the garden, picked clean by the blackbirds who mocked the disintegrating scarecrow. In the field, scrawny tobacco had turned brown and bent back to the earth as if it couldn’t wait to return to the soil. Even the trees near the farmhouse were scraggly and bent, limbs long overdue for trimming, broken from past storms.

The crickets chirped from the bushes near the barn and the night became darker with clouds blocking the moon.

Emmett lit his cigarette and took a long draw. His mouth dropped open, causing the cigarette to fall, “Ouch, durnit.” He snatched the cigarette off his lap. He turned toward the sight that startled him. Off in the distance the silent turbines had lit up and glowed bright as beacons against the black sky.

“Well I’ll be danged. Didn’t know they did that.” He tried to laugh but snorted instead. “Well, guess you can light up the farm as much as you want as long as you keep making me piles of money.”

He sat back and rocked, smoking his cigarette and thinking about the things he could buy now. Maybe one of those fancy new TVs. A new car. His old truck had gone kaput last month forcing him to beg rides into town. “Cain’t spend too much though. Gotta save plenty. Taxes will eat a lot and that electric co-op would take more than their share. Better be careful.” He felt his head droop and thought about going to bed, but the crickets were singing him off to sleep right where he was.

He caught himself before he fell out of his rocking chair. “What the heck?” He strained his neck forward and squinted trying to see out into the fields. The windmills were dark now. A deep rustling came from the turbines nearest the farmhouse, like something large moved in the dark. Whispers carried on the light breeze, across the fields and up onto the porch. Emmett was sure he heard voices mocking him.

He jumped up, opened the screen door, went through it so fast it slapped in protest. He came back with his rifle. “Whoever you are, come out right now or I’m gonna blast you to kingdom come!”

The night returned his threat with silence. Even the crickets fled. He glared at the fields but all was quiet with the sleek, silver turbines lit again and glowing. Emmett rubbed the back of his neck and lowered his rifle. “Must-a-been that shot of whiskey I had. I swear I heard something.” He took two steps down and thought hard about prowling around the farm but decided his feet hurt too much to try.

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