The squeak started in September. My mother called me on a Sunday night to tell me about it. She calls every Sunday at seven. She has since I left for […]
“Owen. Give that back to Grandma.” My son said it the way you’d tell a boy to take his elbows off the table. Easy. Almost pleasant. He didn’t even set […]
“Eighty-five thousand,” my brother Steve said. “Dale will take it as it sits. House, barn, the forty, all of it.” He wrote the number on the back of an envelope […]
The third ready-mix truck was coming out of my lane when I turned in. I had to pull my Buick half into the ditch grass to let him by. The […]
“They were going to be mine someday anyway, Mom.” My son said that to me in my own yard at dusk on a Friday, with his hands shoved in his […]
“Two dollars,” my sister said. “Any duck on the table. Two dollars.” She was saying it to a man in a seed corn cap who had one of Dad’s mallard […]
The grass told me before anybody else did. I came home from work on a Monday with a sack of groceries on my hip, and there was a long yellow […]
The shelves were bare. I stood at the bottom of Mama’s cellar steps with my hand still on the light string and looked at them, all five rows, floor to […]
The saddle rack in Dad’s shed was empty, and for a second I honestly thought I had walked into the wrong shed. I was forty-four years old, standing in the […]
There were four dents in the carpet where the cabinet had stood. That’s what I saw first. Four little square dents, each one about the size of a postage stamp, […]