Sample from my latest, We Are Mist, live on Amazon.
“Macy girl, did I ever tell you about the time I wiped out a whole cornfield with an Indian motorcycle?” Pops said.
She’d heard the story probably a hundred times. Always told with different variations. Sometimes there had been oil on the road. Sometimes Pops had been chased by a motorcycle gang called the Lords of Darkness. Once Pops had even told her that the motorcycle had been so hot, it made popcorn. This particular one Macy had loved the most because it was the wildest one, and it was the one he told the loudest. Pops would act out the slide of his crash and then pretend he was the corn popping under the heat of the motorcycle. He’d fling his arms all over the place and jump up and down until Macy would laugh so hard no sound would come out of her mouth.
“No pops never heard that one,” Macy said. She shielded her eyes and looked up to her grandpa. Her head felt a little dizzy as she did it, but she put a smile on her face all the same.
“Well, it was back in 56…”
Pops’ voice was sweet to her ears, and Macy sat down cross-legged in the shade of the large raspberry bushes. She was only half-listening, so she was startled when his voice changed from a comforting drone back to his low, gruff voice.
“I’m going to get a soda, Macy girl. You want one?”
“Yes, Pops!” Macy said. At home, Macy’s mother had a no soda policy. Mom is in Hawaii, Macy thought. Just another one the perks of staying with her grandparents. Macy watched as Pops disappeared around the back of the house. The heat was starting to get oppressive even in the shade of the raspberry bushes.
Macy heard the screen door smack shut in the front of the house. She looked that way, expecting to see Pops with two cold sodas. Instead, her grandmother stood on the steps. Grams bent back, craning her neck towards the sun. The old woman sniffed the air like a dog would when it has caught a scent. Her head swiveled back and forth, and Macy found herself moving deeper into the shade of the bushes. Something about the way her grandmother was moving made her look unnatural. Her grandmother was twisted back so far, Macy was waiting for the woman’s back to snap in half.
In a motion that was so quick, it didn’t seem possible for a woman her grandma’s age to complete, the old lady turned her head towards Macy. Grams straightened her head and swayed from side to side as if she were contemplating something. Macy had seen her dog, trapper, do the same thing when he was confused.
Grams mouth opened, and her eyes had a vacant look in them like a doll. Macy thought about her mom’s porcelain dolls she kept in the front room hutch. Her grandma’s mouth turned up in the corners into a smile that didn’t fit with the woman’s eyes. Grams showed her teeth, and Macy could have sworn that all of them were pointed and sharp.
“Here ya go, Macy girl.” Macy jumped at the sound of Pops’ voice.
Read the rest here https://amzn.to/2yvfnvM
Reblogged this on Ernie Howard and commented:
Sample from my latest, We are Mist.