Gore in the Garden
Page 20
Shirley did not even look back. She told Constable Dave, “I’m going to need a ride to a woman’s shelter; I will not stay here and be beaten up.”
As Shirley sat in the back of the police car, she heard Landon shouting then screaming at the officers to force his wife to return.
She had done it. She had escaped, but there was no sense of relief. Time was standing still. She felt nothing.
***
Landon was allowed to stay in the marital home for now. He watched the police car drive off with his wife and then stormed back in the house and slammed the front door.
‘She will pay; oh she will pay’ was the mantra going through his mind. His wife had humiliated him and he was going to get even. He ran to her craft room determined to destroy everything in it. He pulled down bookcases and grunted as he pushed over a filing cabinet. He opened the closet and threw all her carefully ordered sewing and knitting projects on the floor. He lifted up her sewing machine high over his head then dropped it.
He was going to tip over her desk when he noticed the drawer. He dumped the contents on the ground and a few of the peony tubers wrapped in newspaper rolled out of the bag.
Landon picked one up and unrolled it.
“Ah ha!” he yelled, “Holding out on me you sneak!” He sniffed the tuber. “What is this? Ginger? No, must be some kind of weird turnip.”
He tried a little bite, but it was too bitter. He stomped toward the kitchen as he hollered, “Oh no lady, you are not going to get one over on me! I found your stash of food and I’m going to eat it.”
Landon was pumped. In his rage fueled brain, he had overcome the defeats of the day with this tiny victory. He found a jar of relish, chopped up the tuber and ate it. With relish. He laughed heartily at his own joke. Just wait until Shirley came home and saw her craft room! She was going to go ballistic.
And Landon would stand there watching her cry. He rehearsed what he was going to say, “You take something from me? I take something from you. Have you learned your lesson woman? Get supper on the table and clean up this mess.”
Landon went back into the craft room and ripped the quilted artwork off the walls and stomped on it. He then picked up all the remaining wrapped tubers and brought them back to the kitchen. He was going to eat them all. That would serve her right.
As he ate another and another, he was finding it more and more difficult to choke them down. But he was determined. He finished the entire jar of relish and the peony tubers at the same time.
***
In Huckleberry that night, several interesting conversations were being held.
Barry Frederickson was reassuring Barbara Shire that she would make a fine mother; they would raise this child together. It didn’t matter what kind of mother Barbara had; they would never abandon their child. And they could name them Bart or Brenda; wouldn’t that be nice?
Anderson Payne had phoned Maureen Smiley to inform her that he had prepared an instruction manual on how to build a Koi Pond and he could mail it to her, if she liked. Maureen let Anderson know that they were going to have macaroni and cheese and would be delighted if he would join her and Tracy. Mind you, she went on to say, he would have to tell Tracy all about his fish; did he think he could handle it?
Fred Downton was sitting in his living room talking to his computer through a dictation program Byron Eggplant had set up for him. Fred was saying all the things he had ever wanted to say to his mother. Byron was prompting him by saying things like, ‘and you were how old at this time?’ and ‘could you explain a bit more about what was going on in your life at the time?’.
Byron was finally calm. Everything was coming together. After all he was helping his idol write and discover his process and life couldn’t get better than this, could it?
Conrad Jeffries was writing poetry and reading out loud to himself. If I nurture grief, does it blossom? Can you only grieve for someone lost? What about heartbeats imagined? I guess this is all part of the process, isn’t it?
Anita Ellis was trying to win over her pro bono lawyer. He didn’t think she was a really bad person, did he? Did he know he had the cutest dimples when he smiled? If she knew where some large sums of money were, he wouldn’t have to report that would he?
Gracie Noseworthy and Ted Bailey were having an animated conversation about their place in Munson. They would need a screened-in sun room for the kitties, wouldn’t they? And how about one of those hot water on demand tanks; it doesn’t make any sense to heat gallons of water year ‘round for a weekend retreat, does it? And we should give some thought to the landscaping, because if we ever did get married, that would be the spot to do it, don’t you think?
Trudy-Faye and William Gervais were going through an old baby album. He really is dead isn’t he? I wonder if he had any children with that woman over in Munson? It’s crazy to hope we could be grandparents, isn’t it? Would she want to get to know us, do you think?
Julia Smith was at the pound talking to a beagle. You will be my little buddy, won’t you? You and I will have great fun gardening won’t we? What do you think of the name Bernard? Oh, you like it do you?
Hazel Froment and Shane Mitchell were watching television and eating supper together. You’re not bored of my stories are you? What if you tell me some of yours? Oh my goodness, you are way more interesting than me, aren’t you?
Jasmine Summan was having her regular evening chat with a man she had known for weeks. No my dear, I can’t do that, it’s completely illegal, isn’t it?
Myron and his Father were discussing a course of action. It’s got to be done, doesn’t it? It’s just about time, isn’t it?
Mrs. Shirley Vallencourt in the Women’s Shelter, holding the threadbare towels she had been given and receiving instructions about meal times, cleaning times and general rules of the house. This was tough but better than being at home, wasn’t it? She still couldn’t see properly out of her left eye; she should go to a Doctor about that shouldn’t she?
Landon Vallencourt wasn’t talking to anyone. He had been in agonizing pain earlier but was too stubborn to phone for help. He died that night, poisoned by the gift of peony tubers given to his wife by Gracie Noseworthy.
As it turned out, Gracie didn’t have to go into the city to investigate after all.
About the Author
Shelley has squirrels in her brain that are constantly running towards shiny things or prying away at hidden things to bring them to the light.
She often finds herself asking the question what if? What if I could invent a villain so compelling, that the reader almost, almost sympathizes with her? with him? What if I don't limit myself to one genre, but go ahead and tell the stories kicking around in my brain? In my heart?
Shelley has really enjoyed some of her varied careers-loans officer, autobody repair, coffee pourer, tree chopper and nurse. However, some of her careers have been less than stellar- night donut decorator, campground cleaner; but even during these, she loved listening to people talk about their lives. Shelley then lets all these experiences percolate and distill into unique characters in her books.
She lives in a little trailer near a lake and finds inspiration in the compassion of others.
If you enjoyed this book, please write a review and tell your friends. Look for other books written by Shelley Dawn Siddall; Chickens in Sweaters and other epic poems and Eating Cupcakes in a Cemetery.
shelleysiddallauthor@outlook.com
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