Keep Me Safe

Chapter One

The third Saturday of June, like every other summer day before it, started bright and early. There was no humidity during the time between first light and the cresting of the sun over the distant horizon. From there, however, everything went downhill. The mugginess soon overwhelmed Pausel, Mississippi, and even standing outside for more than five minutes left one feeling like they had just been submerged in water.

Now that it was noon and the sun was high in the sky, the humidity and heat were downright oppressive. Heat waves were everywhere, rippling over the roads like small waves in a lake. The only mud in the area was on the banks of rivers and lakes; only dry, dusty dirt was to be found everywhere else.

With every breath, Agnes felt as if she were inhaling some of Mama's soup. Her lungs protested against the air they were being offered, and her legs quickly joined in on the whining. The uphill trek from the pond to Main Street was an arduous one in the summer, and it never became easier no matter how many times she made it. The basket full of freshly caught fish was digging into her calloused palm and was so heavy it leaned her to the right. Her gait was staggered and uncomfortable.

Agnes felt no need to complain. She appreciated this kind of weather. In the tedious winter months, when all the trees lost their leaves and the grass died, she would yearn for the summer. Crisp, clean air was something for people who lived up north; her air was sticky and hot and always smelled vaguely of whatever was being cooked at the Pausel Cafe.

After twenty minutes of walking, she finally left the dusty road behind her and entered onto Main Street. The familiarity of it washed over her like the first rain of spring.

Tim and John were hurling pebbles at Ms. Finnigan, who was passionately yelling about the sins of alcohol on the sidewalk in front of the church. Were it not for the basket of dead fish in her hand, Agnes would have joined them.

Sheriff Williams and Bill Johnson were playing their regular game of chess in the shade of the post office. For as long as anyone could remember, those two had spent every Saturday afternoon there, rain or shine.

Agnes watched with a smirk on her lips as the sheriff took advantage of Johnson's momentary distraction at a barking dog and moved his piece two spaces. If Johnson noticed, there would surely be a fight. If he didn't, Williams was destined to win the nickel they always wagered.

The rumble of a car engine alerted Agnes to the presence of a Model-T Ford behind her. She stepped out of the road as the preacher whizzed by in his new ride. If he kept buying the latest cars, she thought with a frown, people might start questioning where all the church donations were going.

Daryl, broom in hand, was standing on the porch of the general store when she walked by. "Hey, Red!" he hollered. He gave her a friendly wave before continuing on with his sweeping.

Agnes ignored him and continued on her way. It may have been over a week, but she was still angry with him for hiding her favorite overalls in the outhouse. A good form of revenge had been consistently eluding her, so she simply settled on the silent treatment.

She passed Doctor Smith as he was speed-walking down the street, clothes disheveled and medical bag clenched tightly in his hand.

"Gladys?" she asked, noticing his exasperated expression.

He pushed his hat down further on his head and sighed. "Gladys," he confirmed and continued on his brisk walk.

Agnes laughed. If Gladys Johnson- of no relation to Bill- didn't stop letting her cats violently claw her face, she was going to die of some horrible disease. That is, if Smith didn't kill her first.

She was still chuckling to herself when she rounded the corner in front of her house. She instantly noticed something that made her stop in her tracks.