Five Days Before
Sheridan County
Nathan's Parish, USA
Sheriff Leeta Pendergrass reluctantly opens her eyes. She immediately shuts them again. An unhappy groan escapes her lips.
"Ohhhh, man. I do not want to get up today. Damn."
Turning over onto her stomach, Sheriff Pendergrass grabs a pillow and presses it against the back of her head. She groans louder, balling her hands into fists.
"Why, Leeta? Why? Why did you even want this job? Why? You couldn't just be satisfied watching kindergarteners eat glue...Or third graders stick paper in their ears? Anthony...You son of a bitch! I hate you! Why didn't you stop me? Oh hell."
The sheriff finishes ranting and abruptly sits up on the bed. With a frustrated sigh, she hurls the pillow in her hand across the room. The pillow ricochets off of the opposite wall and knocks over a tiny metal trashcan in the corner. The trashcan's contents spew onto the floor, all twenty-one tear-stained facial tissues. Almost immediately, the Sheriff's foul mood evaporates. Inhaling deeply, Leeta throws off the covers.
"Now, I'm ready to face the day," Leeta exclaims with an odd grin.
Climbing out of bed, Leeta doesn't even bother to slip on her shoes. She heads barefoot for the bathroom, grabbing her drab brown uniform from a circular wooden table to the left of the bathroom door. Her eyes linger on a photograph lying facedown on the table's surface. She considers turning the photo over, one hand hovering above the frame. Shaking her head, Leeta decides against reopening old wounds. Not first thing in the morning.
-
-
Forty minutes later
Sheriff Pendergrass emerges from the bathroom clean and refreshed. She stops to admire her reflection in the full-size mirror on the front of the door. Turning from side to side, Leeta configures her thumb and index finger into a pretend gun. She clicks her tongue, winking and crooking her finger as if pulling a trigger.
"Go get 'em, Tiger!" Leeta says, attempting a self-peptalk.
The sheriff's visage twists into an unhappy scowl and she stares blankly at her own reflection. Leeta solemnly shakes her head.
"Nah. Ain't working."
Throwing pretense to the wind, Sheriff Pendergrass exits her bedroom. She grabs her campaign hat from the living room table and heads out to face the world.
-
-
Two Hours Later
Lucas Feed, Tack, and Grocery
"Morning Sheriff!" Samuel Lucas chirps, exiting the backroom.
"Morning, Samuel," Leeta says with a tiny wave, moving towards the left sidewall.
Reading on Amazon or a pirate site? This novel is from Royal Road. Support the author by reading it there.
Samuel Lucas, the proprietor of Nathan Parish's solitary feed store, looks Sheriff Pendergrass over from head to toe. My, if she isn't the best looking sheriff they've had in a long time. Really, ever. Men aren't really his thing, but to each their own. A female sheriff. Whoo wee. And young too?
"Slow day? What you hunting for, Sheriff? Bullets are behind the counter now. Some numbskull kids tried to steal a few boxes out of the case the other day. I tell you, Sheriff...I don't know what's gotten into kids these days. No respect. For me...Or the law."
Samuel slides the last part of his statement in, hoping to curry favor with the attractive sheriff. He receives a warm smile from Leeta as reward.
"Well, kids are kids. They have to learn. Sometimes, the hard way. Like we all did."
"That's true, Sheriff. But why can't they do their learning someplace else? I don't like finding empty packages all over my store. Empty packages mean I lost money. Lose enough money and I lose the store."
"Not gonna happen, Samuel. Most of our kids are good kids. I should know...I taught most of them. Try to be a little more understanding, Samuel. Life is hard for some kids."
"That's a pretty strange philosophy for a sheriff to have, don't you think? You're job is to clap these rabble-rousers in irons when they step out of line...Not coddle them."
"No...My job is to protect the community, Samuel. And sometimes, that means giving out a little constructive criticism...Before things reach the point of no return. Everyone makes mistakes. We were all kids once. If everyone we'd run into failed to see the goodness in us...Where would we all be today?"
"Hmmm. Guess you're right, Sheriff," Samuel says glumly.
"I know I am," Leeta responds, puffing out her chest and grinning. "Now, I came in for a treat for Isabella. Something special. She's out of food."
"Again? Sheriff, you and that darn goat! You're always buying exotic stuff for that she-goat to eat. Just set her loose on the lawn. Let her be a goat."
"I don't think so, Samuel. I am not feeding Isabella grass!"
"Why not? She's...A...Goat! Goats eat grass, you know?"
"Not my Isabella," Leeta protests. "My grandfather gave me that goat. She's special to me. As such, I want her to feel special. Do you have any of that freeze-dried fruit? The vacuum packed stuff? I think it was like twenty pounds or something."
"Yeah. How much you want? I've got five bags. About a hundred pounds. You and Chef Harper are the only ones who buy the stuff. Susy uses 'em in the homemade cereal she sells online. Horrible stuff. I've tried it. Only thing good about it is the fruit. Too dry."
"Haha. I think it's because her cereals are gluten free or high protein. One of those," Leeta chuckles, grabbing a can of Spam from the shelf.
"Whatever it is...It's gross. I'll be back with your fruit. Give me a minute."
Samuel disappears into the back of the store. Leeta continues to look around, stuffing things in her tiny hand basket, a wistful expression on her face. One wall in particular interests her. Numerous framed pictures adorn the top of the rear left wall. A tall deputy holds a tiny screaming baby cradled in his strong arms, handsome face covered in grim and soot. Thanks to Deputy Anthony Pendergrass, mother and baby girl had come to no harm when the bus they were traveling on caught fire. Every passenger had made it off alive.
Leeta is still daydreaming when Samuel resurfaces from the backroom. Samuel silently watches as Sheriff Pendergrass strokes the glass covering the photograph of her estranged husband.
"Got your goat food, Sheriff," Samuel says softly, hating to rouse the sad woman.
Leeta moves to the counter and places her basket on top. She offers Samuel a thin smile.
"Thanks, Sam."
-
-
That evening
Leeta pulls her Jeep into the yard and shuts off the engine. She stares at the darkening sky with sorrow filled eyes.
"Where are you, Anthony? Are you alone tonight? Or are you holding someone tight?"
With a dejected sigh, Sheriff Pendergrass climbs from her vehicle. She goes around to the back, removing the bags of freeze-dried fruit she purchased for little Isabella. A scurrying behind her causes Sheriff Pendergrass to look over one shoulder. A large pale bulk makes its way down a nearby grassy hill, obscured by the dense foliage.
Sheriff Pendergrass watches the weird shape for a few seconds more before returning to what she was doing.
"A coyote? I better make sure the chickens are locked down tight tonight. Last thing I need is a coyote enjoying a buffet of my egg-layers. I'll grab some more traps tomorrow. Hopefully, it'll be another slow day."
-
-
As is her usual custom, ever since Anthony moved out of their shared home, Leeta chokes down a lukewarm tv dinner while watching the late news. Once the nighttime infomercials start airing, Leeta drags herself to bed. Around three a.m. a lone chicken squawks loudly in protest. And then, it squawks no more.