Into My Own

Three

No sir I ain't been drinking

I ain't even had one beer

This sweet thing's got me buzzing

From whispering in my ear

Groaning loudly, I unlocked my phone to silence the alarm.

I squinted at the bright screen. Monday, June first, six a.m.

It took some motivation, but I eventually rolled myself out of bed and got dressed for work.

Downstairs was pretty busy. Mom, dad and Charlie were already up and there was a large plate of pancakes on the table.

"Thanks, Mom," I grinned, stealing one.

She made no move to reply as I headed out the door to feed.

By the time I got back in it was a little past seven. I drank a cup of coffee with Charlie before retrieving my stuff and heading out the door.

My little purple 1995 Nissan pickup was sitting in the driveway, ready to roll. It was both the cutest and ugliest little pickup on the planet, mainly because of the color. The boys had christened it the Purple People Eater.

Fifteen minutes of gravel roads brought me to the town of Hauser--population five hundred.

I passed a few cars on Main Street, waving at each one because I likely knew them.

Though we went to school in Fairview, I had gotten a job in Hauser since it was closer.

I carefully parked behind the local feed and implement store and stepped out of the rig. Several people were there already so I hurried to check in and help open up.

Most of my morning was spent restocking the shelves. Around noon Laura, my supervisor, headed out for a lunch break while I stayed behind and worked the counter. I would get my chance to eat when she got back.

Several farmers came in asking for feed, fertilizer, baling twine, etc... The stereotype that everybody knows everybody by name in a town this small proved true more and more. As the days went by I began to know the farmers by name and usually ended up chatting with them about the crops and weather for longer than one would deem normal.

Getting a job at the feed store was the best thing that happened to me all year. It was the perfect mix of farm work and store work, and I could wear whatever I wanted. Definitely a dream come true.

The store stayed quiet for a few minutes, giving me time to zone out into my own little world.

The squeaking of the front door interrupted my thoughts. Two guys walked in. The fact that I'd never seen them before had my interest piqued.

"Hi, how can I help you?" I greeted brightly.

"You guys got any salt blocks?" The older man questioned. He looked to be in his late thirties.

"Yep, they're out back," I replied. "I'll have Jake bring them around. How many do you need?"

"Can I get four?"

"Yes sir. Just one second." I typed the order into the cash register and radioed Jake. "He's gonna have them out front in just a minute. Is that it?"

"Yeah."

I rattled off a total and counted out his change.

Out of the corner of my eye I noticed the other guy staring at me intently. He looked to be around my age. He was tall and wiry with curly red-brown hair that peeked out from under his CAT ball cap. His blue eyes were piercing, making the stare I was getting all the more creepy.

"Are you guys new in town?" I surprised myself by asking.

"Yeah, kinda. Here for the summer I guess," the older guy replied, his tone neutral.

"Well, good luck. Let me know if you ever need anything," I smiled at the pair.

"Yes ma'am, we will. Thanks."

Jake was just coming around with a handcart of salt blocks. The man nodded pleasantly and walked out the door. The kid gave me a small smile and followed.

A few minutes later, my supervisor breezed in. "Did I miss anything?" 

She was a really nice lady but she loved to know about everything that happened around town. Honestly, she was more nosy than the ladies at the hair salon, and that was saying a lot.

"Kinda. I mean, there were the usual farmers getting fertilizer and stuff. And then a guy I'd never seen came in and bought some salt blocks. Said he was here for the summer."

"Oh really? I wonder who that would be..." She muttered, more to herself than me.

I knew she would find out and let me know by tomorrow at the latest. That was Laura for you.