Dreams of the Sleepless

Dead Fly in the Soup

The screen door screeched open below. Eli shuffled onto the front porch, studied the cruiser for a moment, and then moved in his slow pace down the walkway toward the idling car. I continued working on freeing a particularly nasty screw from one of the shutters. I was just trying to keep my head down, watching the reflection in the window. Both became more difficult as my hands began to tremble again. I struggled to keep the screwdriver in the groove. As Eli approached the car, the driver's window slid down. The driver called out, "Mornin' Eli, I see you got some renovation underway."

It wasn't a voice that I recognized. It wasn't the deputy from the diner. I exhaled and felt the tension in my arms, shoulders, and back release. I almost lost my balance but caught myself.

Eli called back, "Yep, I thought it was time to spruce it up a bit. I could use an extra set of hands. Want to help?"

There was loud laughter from the cruiser as the window slid up and the car pulled off. Eli watched it disappear and then looked up at me.

I called down, "I was sure the deputy from Duke's was here to nail me."

He looked up the road again and said, "Me too. That's why I wandered out when I saw the car."

"What was that about?" I asked, nodding in the direction of the cruiser.

Eli grinned up at me, "He was checking you out, making sure you hadn't killed me or stuffed me in the trunk of my car. We don't get many strangers in a small town like this. You stand out like a dead horsefly in a bowl of peanut soup."He paused for a moment, staring up at me on the ladder. "Looks like you could use a cold beer." 

I realized that he was commenting on the sweat that ran in streams down my face and that completely soaked my shirt. It was a welcome suggestion, and I hurried down the ladder to take him up on his offer. Eli disappeared briefly but soon stepped out the door carrying two cold bottles. He handed me one and motioned toward the wicker chairs that sat on the porch. Eli and I sat, taking long, slow sips of ice-cold beer as the sun and humidity beat down just beyond the shade of the porch. The cold liquid was refreshing. I wiped the sweat from my brow and held the cold bottle to my forehead between sips.

After a few seconds, I spoke up, "I'm a bit confused. Why didn't the deputy arrest me or at least question me about what happened at the diner?" I looked over at Eli and this big grin spread across his face. He began to chuckle as he offered his theory.

"My guess is that Jeb hasn't told anybody about it. The night shift here can be slow, real slow. Not much happens around here even on an exciting day. Seems like he'd had a few conversations with Sam Adams to pass the time before he arrived at Duke's." Eli paused, tilted his bottle, and took a long, slow sip. He continued, "Jeb's two outstanding characteristics are that he's mean and he's proud. I don't think he would want the other deputies to know that he was drunk on duty, assaulted a waitress, had his gun taken from him and dumped in a coffee pot, and then was handcuffed to a stool." Eli continued to chuckle as he relived the moment.

The theory seemed sound, but I wasn't completely convinced. At any rate, I had survived my first brush with the sheriff's office.

After a moment, Eli took a deep breath and pointed at me. "So, John Smith, what brings you to this God-forsaken little town?"

I paused for a moment considering the question and the potential answers. I liked the old man, but I wasn't sure that I could trust him. I really hated people prying and felt that my business was just that, my business. I took a long swallow of beer and then sighed, "Just drifting. No place better to go." I fell quiet having said everything and yet very little.

Eli gazed out at the sky and simply nodded as if he understood, but I didn't think he could. After, a long pause he asked, "Family?"

"None," That was only partly true. I had no family who would claim me. The end result was the same.

Again, the old man nodded. "How long you been drifting?"

"Fourteen, maybe fifteen months. Days all run together after awhile."

"So, you haven't always been a drifter. What caused you to start?"

I studied the bottle in my hand. Raised it to my lips and chugged down the last few ounces. I set the empty on the wicker table between our chairs, looked up at the ladder and sighed, "Looks like it's time to finish up." I stood and began climbing the wooden rungs.

Eli took the hint. He stood, picked up the empty bottles, and called back as he moved inside, "You be careful out here in the heat."

I thought, How appropriate. In the private inferno that was my life, I did need to be careful.

----- Author's Note -----

I hope that you enjoyed this chapter.

Why do you think the narrator is so evasive?

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