Writing Club Nov 19 2013
Exercise #1: A new diner
opens in a little Texas town. The mayor
disappears. A mysterious lady comes to
town. Also 20 people in the town die. Are the items related?
“All I know is that her name is Sarah Something. Never seen her round these parts.” The old
coot spat out a glob of tobacco goo with the precision of a highly honed
assassin. The spittle hit the tin milk
can across the porch with a clang.
A bit startled by the near defilement of her tailored pink suit, but
not enough to drop her pocket recorder, Dina Santanna from the Daily Chronicle,
turned back to the interview.
It was hard to believe the grubby hillbilly in front of her was an
oil baron. He would have done better
taking a bath in the filled rain barrel under the dripping eaves. Trying to
hide her distaste for this miscreant of high society, she plastered on a smile, struggling
to ignore the wafting stench of weeks of sweat, and changed topics.
“Do you know anything about the disappearance of Dale Allen, your
mayor, three days ago?” Dina hoped for
anything, even a tidbit. With a bit of
grease, the codger would open up to her. She
could tell he was lonely for someone to pull up a rocking chair and listen.
Sure enough, the dull gray eyes lit up with her question and his elephant hide skin
animated. With a twinkle, the old coot
began, “Ain’t been seen since then is
he? I gots me my suspicions
though.” He gave Dina a wink and resumed
whittling away at a piece of wood pretending not to be too interested, but she
knew otherwise and settled in for a long story.
“It ain’t my place to say, but that Sarah character took on mighty
fine with ole Dale the day she pulled in.
A definite looker she was, hair like straw golden. Men go to arms for a fine woman like
that. Even sell their best horses. Not that you, my gal, aren’t a purdy piece of
work either. There be always someone
watching around these parts. Be the way
of a small dust bowl town.” He paused
to look up at her with a gaze that churned at its depths like a stormy sea. A moment of unease swept over Dina. A shrewd expression surfaced
momentarily. He had seen the break in
her poker face and was deciding if he would tell her more. Unspoken Mexican standoff. Who would draw first?
“Hal Newton, that be the fellow what owns yon lumber store there, he
says to me that whilst he was having a piece of Miss Mary Midge’s apple pie, that
be at her new diner there, ‘Well Fred,
our mayor be picking out a new plucky one, he be. She be leaning in as close to him as he to
she. I’d be believing that they knew
each other afor, I do." Fred paused to spit intentionally barely missing Dina's shoes. "She’s a purdy one, too purdy for Dale.
I recon old Hal’s right, being as they both be missing as of
yet. They likely took up in Dale’s ranch
just south of here. Dale’s got a place here in town, but his missus is there. The
man’s a dog ye see.” This was followed
by a wry smile. Dina noted Fred was a
sly fox indeed. Perhaps the unkempt
manner was a ruse.
Across the street a door slammed
shut as a portly woman stepped out onto her porch with a broom. As Dina glanced over at the sound, the
sweeper’s gaze darted down to avoid eye contact.
Fred gave a loud wheeze and a graveled cough. Distraction, but why? What did Fred know?
Now this was turning into something. Dina was quite pleased. A gossip piece was good, but she was sensing
there was more to her story. Her gut was
kicking in and usually her instincts were never wrong.
Fred gave a loud sniff, interrupting
Dina’s thoughts “Mmm Mmm, That new place down there on the corner been roasting
up something mighty savoury the last three days out back. Good place to find Dale’s missus, Marissa, if
ye want to speak to her. But I’d be
throwin off those ridiculous pointy shoes and get me some boots. Ye might be running out. Marissa Allen's fuming. The woman's got a mean right hook she does. Marissa be Mary Midge’s best friend and
second cousin. Mary been stoking
Marissa’s flames ever since Dale didna come home last Thursday.
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