We waved him away and continued to walk very slowly, as it was obvious Robin wanted to avoid any conversation with him. I wasn’t particularly interested in talking to him either. Now fair food, that was another story.
“Hey, let’s go get funnel cake,” I suggested. We made a beeline for the funnel cake stand. A few minutes later, funnel cake in one hand, fresh squeezed lemonade in the other, we searched for a place to sit down. A row of picnic tables under a shady maple tree was our choice.
I scooped up a piece of powdered sugar delight and shoved it in my mouth. Mmmm… it had been a long time since I ate fair food. It was so good.
“You’re eating sugar today,” Robin remarked; powdered sugar clung to her lips.
“Oh, yeah, the food is the main objective of any fair,” I replied. “I mean, what else do you do at a fair?”
“Right on,” she agreed. “Hey, look.” She pointed to the center of the picnic table where a flyer had been stapled. A picture of our realtor, Angela, smiling, wearing a dark blue dress, her hair neatly done, a friendly smile directed at the camera, was in the center of the flyer. Twenty-five-thousand-dollar reward for any information leading to the arrest of her killer.
“Wow.” I stared at the paper. “I wonder if they have any leads.”
Robin nodded. “I heard they are looking for a white Honda, four doors. Someone noticed it driving back along the lane of the property she was showing the day she was murdered. Didn’t think it was odd at the time, but called the police after hearing about the murder.”
“Where was the property again?” I asked.
“Jasmine Road, just past the feed mill. It’s very secluded. Long lane, and a lot of trees, no neighbors for a mile or two.”
“That’s right. Archie was telling me it was past the school and down much farther.”
“Right.” Robin took a drink of lemonade. “I hope they find who did this. Still, no real leads, or motive, that we know of, at least.”
“She was obviously targeted. Maybe someone from her past?” I suggested. I knew all too well how the past continued to follow some people.
“Maybe she had dark secrets that nobody knew about,” Robin said cryptically.
I nodded. “Maybe those secrets caught up with her.”
The hot summer night passed as we played some carnival games, coin toss and balloon darts, ate all kinds of junk food, fresh cut fries, juicy cheeseburgers and chocolate milkshakes. I drew the line when Archie walked over to the fried Oreo booth. No thanks.
We even took a ride on the rickety Ferris wheel, barely moving as we traveled to the top. I don’t know why I even got on the contraption. I hated heights and gripped Archie’s hand tightly until we reached the ground again. My wonderful husband held me gently, his presence calming me better than any drug. Part of my issue was the person I saw at the cotton candy stand while we were waiting in line for the ride. The man who stood with his back to us, long flowing dark hair and a loose white shirt, seemed too familiar to me. Brother Jim? Then he turned and I didn’t recognize him. I was getting paranoid.
Now we sat on a large blanket in an open field, a wide black sky above us dotted with white twinkling stars. We sipped milkshakes, our second ones of the night.
“Perfect night for fireworks,” Archie remarked. “Endless stars.”
“So much different than the city skyline,” I replied.
Archie grew up in the Old Kensington area of Philly. He was a city kid. Living in a rural area like Poplin was much different than he was used to, but he loved it. All the space, the wildlife—two deer walked through our yard this morning—everything here appealed to him. I was so glad. I knew country life was for me, but I didn’t know until now if it was for him. Thankfully, he was willing to give it a try for me and enjoyed living this lifestyle together.
“Room for one more?” a voice asked. We look up to John’s smiling face.
“Sure, buddy,” Archie said, moving closer to me. “Have a seat.”
“Thanks.” John sat next to him. Robin sat next to me and nudged my arm. I raised my eyebrows.
The field was a sea of bright colored blankets, children running around, parents trying to quiet them, and couples cuddling close under the moonlight.
“Fields looked good,” Archie said to John. “When will you do the rest?”
“Probably finish the alfalfa fields on Monday after work,” John replied. “The cornfields will be beginning of September. They had a late start this year.”
Archie nodded. “Sounds good. I love looking at the farmland when everything is cut. It’s so vast.”
“Yeah, I wouldn’t live anywhere else,” John agreed, sneaking a glance at Robin. “This is the place where I’ll marry and have kids. I love it here.”
I nudged Robin, but she didn’t look my way, avoiding John’s remark. Fireworks popped in the sky, taking my attention away from her and John’s words, obviously directed at her. A brilliant display of red, blue, and white lighting up the dark humid night.
The crowd silenced as the fireworks captured their full attention. Pop. Pop. Pop.
I wondered if that was the last thing Angela heard.
She was killed by three gunshots, according to the news.
Pop. Pop. Pop.
EIGHTEEN2016
The Commune
Dream
Brother Jim was a well-muscled man, his workout routine one he followed religiously, of average height with an early receding hairline, long, dark hair that hung past his shoulders, and cunning eyes, who looked older than his thirty years. What he lacked in looks he made up for in charm and speaking skills, a charismatic individual who could talk you into almost anything, and for some people, absolutely anything.
I had the looks, at least that’s what everyone in our family said, and girls always preferred me to Jim Bob, but I am five years younger than him. What I didn’t have were the people skills, the manipulative ways he possessed. When I was younger it angered me that he could talk his way out of most situations, even though at times this benefited me, as well. As we aged, I realized that anger didn’t serve me well and I chose to embrace what his skills brought to me, instead of being jealous. This was a much more optimal state of being in my world. Even though Jim Bob and I were cousins, in many ways we were almost brothers. Grandmother raised both of us right here in this house during different periods of time when our parents weren’t around to care for us. Sometimes only him, sometimes only me, and sometimes we lived here together, as we did now. We didn’t always get along, then or now ups and downs are normal for any family.
Today the family planted carrots, tomatoes, and peppers in the garden, adding to our already lush Eden. Gardening was Sunny’s passion. She loved getting her fingers into the soil, lovingly placing a delicate life source into the ground. When I attended Berkeley, years ago, I studied Philosophy. In a way I found its teachings intertwined with the act of gardening. Belief in something so minuscule in the beginning, some barely a seed, or an idea, depending on which subject, and confidence that the tiny speck will develop into a blooming plant, or thought, producing bounty for you and others. Doesn’t this show the truth in both an intellectual and physical state? Every good thing in life starts with a thought and then the follow-up causes said thought to become a reality. There may be no strong logic in the beginning, only a lingering thought which does not diminish, urging us on to create, or initiate creation, of something beautiful.
Brother Jim watched us planting in the expanded garden from his second-story bedroom. Nobody else noticed him as they were busy with the task at hand, and he stood back from the window, so his presence wasn’t obvious. I felt his beady eyes boring into me.
And I stared back at him.
NINETEEN2023
Aimee
Archie and I sat at the kitchen table eating western omelets and fresh fruit for breakfast. I speared a chunk of honeydew and mindlessly chewed it. Archie’s phone beeped.
“Who’s that?” I asked.
He read the text. “John. He’s stopping by to help me fix that leaky sink.”
I raised my eyebrows. “You two are becoming best friends.”
He laughed, his eyes crinkling. “Kind of like you and Robin.”
“I like her,” I replied.
