Arachne's Sin

Chapter 2: . . . Dream

"Don't cry because it's over, smile because it happened." --Dr. Suess

LYDIA looked out the window at the inky black. The rumble of the car and the tinny radio were barely enough to keep her awake. Sometimes a pebble smacked the car side and startled her. She could hear Marge humming along to the radio over the racket the car was making. The woman could almost carry a tune.

At the end of a particularly twangy love song, Marge turned off the radio.

"Now, honey," she said. "I don't want to pry, but that guy looking for you was a fraud. I know Washoe Sheriff like my own family, and that fellow wasn't. I don't cotton on to folks who lie as a line of work."

Lydia just looked out the window, she watched the road disappear at the edge of of the headlights.

Marge continued, "I mean to say that those boys, er, men and women, are good folk. If you need something by way of the law, they'll do their level best for you. OK?"

Lydia nodded but didn't turn her head.

"Here we are dear," Marge said as the car pulled into a gravel drive. "I bet you'd like to take a load off, so let's get you inside."

Lydia followed Marge to the front door.

Marge said, "Oscar's my dog. He's big and stupid, but he loves folks. So, don't worry about him.

She opened the door, and a bear sized ball of fur practically lept into her arms. Moments later, the shaggy mass dropped back down to sniff at Lydia.

"Come on Oscar, this is Lydia, be nice!"

Oscar answered with excited panting and face licks.

The house smelled a like a mix a Pine-Sol, wet dog, and a touch of old cigarette smoke. Lydia looked around. She saw another exit in the living room across from where they just entered. The windows were pretty large, facing the drive and the street further down the hill. It was too dark to see anything outside. They had vertical blinds, but they were tied up on either side of the windows. There was a hallway to the right, she guessed bedrooms and bathroom that way. A kitchen was to the left of the living slash dining room area. She liked Marge well enough, but the house made her frown.

"Something wrong, dear?" asked Marge.

"No. Just thinking. That's all."

"Okay, dear. I'm going to make some tea. Does that sound nice?"

Lydia smiled and nodded.

"Nice to see you smile. Now make yourself at home. Sit anywhere you'd like," Marge said as she scooted behind the kitchen counter.

Lydia took a chair at the table. "You live out here all alone?"

"Well," Marge said,"since my husband died."

"I'm sorry."

"That's okay. We had a great run together. He was a young hobo riding the rails, back when you could do those things, and I was like you, doing my own thing, damn the torpedoes, and damn the rest of the world!" Marge laughed. "But, time marches onward. The kids are gone, George passed away, and now I've got Oscar. Really, it's kind of peaceful 'cept when the squirrels get him excited. Isn't that right, Oscar?"

The dog yawned.

"It sounds nice," said Lydia.

"But you're too young to want to live in the boonies, aren't you?" said Marge.

"Still, I've had enough excitement. I can see being here."

Marge came to the table with a tray full of butter, jams, various tea bags, a big teakettle, and a cup for each of them.