Welcome to Doom Farms by Karsten Knight

Author:Karsten Knight [Knight, Karsten]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2018-09-17T22:00:00+00:00

15

I opened my mouth to scream but only a hoarse wheeze came out. The figure lumbered forward one step, two steps. His apron was splattered with a dark orange substance. His menacing eyes peered out from the slits in a plastic mask. The saw blade gleamed in his hands.

Then he reached up with his free hand and ripped off his mask.

The tall gangly man had floppy red hair that matched the constellation of freckles across his cheeks. He grinned a blindingly white smile at the two of us. Without his mask, he looked far less sinister. “Hello!” he greeted us with a big wave in a warm, booming voice. “I knew a crowd would gather to watch me carve the Cannonball! I just thought there would be more of you.”

Now it all made sense. I glanced between the chainsaw and the giant pumpkin. Of course, you would need more than a puny knife to carve one of that size.

While I gawked silently, still at a loss for words, Yvonne cleared her throat. “Of course, Mr. Slade,” she said, pretending as though this man hadn’t just scared us half to death. “I wouldn’t miss the carving for the world!”

“Mr. Slade?” I repeated. “As in Ezekiel Slade?” Could this jolly giant somehow be the same nemesis that tormented my father as a kid? And also be the father of my tormentor? The longer I stared at him, the more his resemblance to Charlie became obvious.

Their personalities could not have been more different, though.

“You’ve heard of me? I didn’t know I was so famous in these here parts!” Mr. Slade threw back his head and laughed from deep in his belly. When he was done, he stuck out his hand for me to shake. “My friends call me Zeke, and you are a friend. Pleased to make your acquaintance.”

“Kayla Dunn,” I said as his hand enveloped mine. “I think you grew up with my father.”

Zeke held me out at arm’s length and studied my face. “Well I’ll be darned—I’d heard Jimmy was back in town.” He gave me a troubled frown, an expression I bet this happy-go-lucky man rarely used. “I’m ashamed to admit that I wasn’t the nicest person to your dad back in the day, but I hope he’s forgiven me. I suppose I was always envious of him.”

“It was a long time ago. I’m sure he doesn’t even remember,” I lied.

Zeke’s contagious grin returned. “Tell Jimmy you’re all invited over for a big dinner at Slade Farms next week, to formally welcome him back to the neighborhood. Have you met my boy Charlie yet?”

I glanced sidelong at Yvonne, who wrinkled her nose. “Once or twice,” I said emotionlessly.

“Yvonne, you and your dad should join, too,” Zeke added. “Charlie will be elated to have company.”

As nice as Zeke was, I was concerned by how little he seemed to know his son.

Still, Yvonne and I both graciously accepted his invite. For the next half hour, we watched as Zeke revved up the chainsaw and cut the top off the thawing pumpkin.

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