Small town Secrets, the demise of Sara

Kyle pulled the trigger of the shotgun, numb to the recoil as the tears streamed down his face. "I'm sorry Sara." he says to her corpse. Thankfully, it doesn't answer him.

^{Photo by Yuri_B}
It was a long ride back to the ranch; Kyle held the reins of his wife's horse to guide the beast behind him, as the sun set the sky ablaze. "Nothing for it Shadowfax." he tosses over his shoulder. Sara had liked fantasy books, naming her horse after a wizard or some similar nonsense.

The horse loved her far more than he ever had, he thought regretfully. He just never did have it in him to do right by her. For ten years he carried the weight of the woman around his waist, everywhere he went. A burden that never asked to be picked up.

It was Kyle, who had approached her daddy. Promising to take care of his little girl in his request for her hand, he might've even meant it. Who's to say now. He'd at least kept her fed and warm, right until the moment he put her in the ground, to shovel dirt over her blonde curls.



Sherriff Macabee didn't like city folk. They came out in droves every summer to cause trouble, leaving their garbage all over the woods. This one though, she could stay here as long as she likes he thought, eyeing the pair of legs that walked into the general store.

"OOOOOweee! Now that's some quality trim!" he yips in his empty squad car, as he pops another can of Coca-Cola open. Tossing the empty one he had just finished onto the floor of the passenger seat, he checks his teeth in the rearview mirror.

Satisfied with what he saw, he nodded to his reflection. He grabbed his hat, ready to pull his door open, when the call came in. "Code 0, I repeat code 0. We need you over at the Wilkins farm Sherriff." Wanda's nasally voice thumps through his radio.

"God bless it." he mutters under his breath, before pressing the button to reply. "Yep. Headed there now." he says, shaking his head. In a cloud of smoke, he peels off from the gravel parking lot, leaving the bombshell behind.

^{Photo by geralt}
"So, what exactly are you trying to say Nancy?" the Sherriff's voice is gruff as he doodles on his notepad, attempting to recreate the rear end of the city slicker he had seen in front of the general store. "You think Kyle did something to Sara?" he eyes her over the frames of his aviator shades.

"Like I said Sherriff, ain't a day that goes by without a phone call from Sara." Nancy is stunning, her full lips and shining chestnut hair have no effect on the Sherriff, however. Years back she had been an exotic dancer while she made her way through college, condemned as a worthless woman by the same men who enjoyed watching her dance.

Sherriff Macabee was no different, stroking with one hand, and pointing with the other. He speaks to her like she's slow, despite the fact he never did a day of university, and she was an engineer. "Well maybe Sara got sick of hearing you go on and on Nancy." he spits black onto the ground, adjusting the wad of chewing tobacco in his lip with the tip of his tongue.

"Can you put aside your fat ego for just a minute Stan, and do your damn job? I told you Kyle lied about where she was!" Nancy's voice trembles in the anger that surges through her body. "I'm telling you, something isn't right!" Emotion chokes her words, as tears brim in her big eyes.

"Folks with respect tend to refer to me as Sherriff Macabee, but you're not very decent, are you sweetheart?" he sneers at her, unfazed by her crying. Without waiting for an answer, he turns away. "Now, why don't we wait for her husband to feel concerned, as surely he knows where his wife is."

With clenched fists and a brisk shot of determination, Nancy watches him drive off with hate seething in her heart. "I guess it's up to me." she says to the trees.

^{Photo by RonaldPlett}
Kyle stumbles a bit, as he walks the familiar path through the woods that sit at the edge of his property. A bottle of whiskey in one hand, and a cigarette in the other, he makes his way to the meeting spot. It was vital that no one ever saw the two of them together.

He had been drunk since he lay his wife to rest four days ago. Slugging shots as soon as he got home, to ease the pain he felt as he scrubbed her blood from his hands. He had never loved Sara, but that didn't mean he didn't care for her. She had been by his side in every way that she could be, without any encouragement or appreciation from him for doing so.

She always had a hot meal, a kind word, or a thoughtful undertaking to soothe each trouble he faced in life. Loyal, sweet, and unfortunately madly in love with him. Poor Sara, her mistake had been her earnest interest in him. Leading her to follow him one night, when her heart couldn't shake the feeling he was being unfaithful.

She was right that he was hiding something, but that wasn't it. Trailing behind him on the land that once been her dad's, she stumbled across a much bigger secret. One he couldn't afford for her to know. He took a deep slug from the bottle as he wished once again that it had been another way.

He had never considered that the woman would fall in love with him, he assumed she married from a sense of duty, as did he in his own way. His family's land bordered hers, and it was a natural victory for both lineages for the two to combine. To create great wealth for many generations to come, be a part of local history. But for him it was all about the crop.



As his partner comes into focus in the distance, it's clear he is drunk. The man who sits in the shadows of an elm tree sighs. At least it added credibility to Jake's mourning if Sara was ever found. Still, he would've preferred a straight talk, it had been a long day.

"Put the damn bottle down, you're swaying like branches in a storm!" he says as Jake draws near. "Gimmie a pull, it's been a hell of a day." he says, reaching his hand out for the whiskey.

"I've had exactly the amount to drink I needed, that rat Nancy came by today. She's sniffing about mighty hard." Jake says with a belch, passing the bottle off. "Won't do her much good, I had Sara make plans to visit her aunt before I... did it." he trails off as a blank look takes over his face.

Snatching the bottle back, he continues, "We've got the missing person report in up north, Aunt Shirley is properly in a tizzy. We're in good shape." he takes another swig. "Unless you've heard any different?" Jake asks. Stepping out from the shadows, his partner shakes his head.

"Radio's silent, far as we're concerned, you're an unlucky guy who everyone's rooting for." the Sherriff winks, reaching for the bottle again. "Now, let's move on to numbers. Poppy pulled 2mil last quarter, but I'm hoping for 2.5 this time. What do you say about razing some more space?" Macabee asks.

^{Photo by WebLab24_Siti_Web}
As the two men conclude their talk, and part ways, Nancy watches from a distance. When she is sure they are gone, she creeps over to their meeting place. Noting the cigarette butts that surround the elm tree, she can tell this is a consistent meeting place for the pair.

Thinking over everything she has just heard, her sadness builds like the force behind a dam. She would cry, but now wasn't the time she reminded herself. Sara deserved to be avenged. Ideas race around her head. Should she try to record them next time? She wouldn't know the right timing.

Her feet began to wander as she jabbed at the problem with despair, what could she do to honor her friend, the one who had been much more like a sister to her. Swallowing the lump in her throat that demanded she cry, she scolded herself for being so weak. "Sara... what do I do?" she asks the forest floor as it blurs, the hot tears hitting her cheeks despite her efforts to hold it together.

"The field is nearby Nancy. Right under my nose the whole time, how didn't I notice?" her voice is changed, she doesn't sound like the Sara who called Nancy everyday just to say hello. Her image is unmistakable as she floats in the air however. Her translucent face is filled with pain, "Burn it for me Nancy. I'll show you the way." She doesn't have to ask.



It took some elbow grease to get the old wagon out from the grips of the nostalgia mountain in her garage, but Nancy managed. She had a filled gas can already in her car, an emergency precaution. She places it in the wagon, along with everything else flammable she had- nail polish remover, cooking oil... you name it. Satisfied with her load, she pulls the wagon down the driveway.

It takes her almost two hours to make it to the poppy field, but she doesn't mind. Sara walks beside her, silent but deafeningly loud. Her rage, her sadness, her betrayal; all screams which fill Nancy's head. They scream together in silence, mourning everything Kyle had taken from them.

When she gets there, it's unreal. They must've had 5 acres of narcotic flowers here in these woods. Concealed in the swath of land that Kyle had become part owner of when he married Sara. Nancy sees red. The flowers, the gas can, her rage. They blur together as she stomps through the field, leaving a trail of various liquids in her wake.

When she gets to the other side of the field, she looks to Sara. "Are you ready sis?" her voice is small. The lighter sits in her palm in wait. "Yes." Sara says, nodding to her friend, "Do it." and Nancy kneels down to spark the flames. The eruption is sudden and brilliantly bright in the wee hours of the night. The women stand together and watch it burn.

"Thank you, Nancy. Farewell for now." Sara says, as her image scatters like leaves on the wind. Alone, Nancy watches the field blaze until she hears the sirens approaching. Finally pulling herself away from the last favor she could ever do for her friend, she lets the sobs free as she begins her long walk home. "Goodbye Sara, I love you."