#he brought her a dead cockroach and got sad when I grabbed it to throw it away

[kazieka]

gus got a lot on his mind lately

[rabid-wolfchild]

Like A Good Neighbor

Deep in the heart of Texas, two families duke it out for dominance in the hunting grounds. But wouldn't it be easier if the two families became one?

*kathy is the tea lady

The sun-baked dirt crunched under Daisy’s feet as she swayed from side to side, looking down the long, empty road. It was nearly noon and not a soul had come by, which was surprising for the summertime. She leaned back on the heels of her sandals, feeling her skin tighten from what could only be sunburn. ‘I should ask Mama for water next time I do this,’ she thought, ‘And maybe a hat, too. A chair, an umbrella, maybe a nice book…’

Daisy was about ready to call it a day when she heard the familiar rumble of an engine. In the distance, she could see the blurred image of a truck, and with newfound motivation, she straightened out her dress and smoothed back her hair. Maybe today wouldn’t be a complete waste.

~ “Don’t you wonder what they’re still doing here?”

Ludamae stilled in her work at Hoyt’s voice. She knew who ‘they’ were, but she never understood Hoyt’s obsession with them. “I don’t know who you’re talking about.”

Hoyt huffed. “You know exactly who I’m talkin’ about mama,” he said, “Our neighbors. The town’s all dead, ain’t no one buying their sweets no more-- why are they still here? How are they still here?”

Ludamae sighed and put the rest of the dishes in the sink. The neighbors Hoyt was referring to would be the Perkins, a sweet, kind-hearted family who’d moved into town just months before the slaughterhouse was shut down. Ludamae had always liked them, they never stirred up trouble and always brought her cakes and breads whenever they stopped by the station to visit. A cute little family, really.

“They’re just good, hard-working people trying to keep their land, Hoyt.” She explained, wiping the soap and water from her hands onto her apron, “They got as much right to be here as us, and you know it, sheriff or not.”

Hoyt clucked his tongue. “That ain’t what I’m sayin’, mama. How are they living? Ain’t like they’re making any money out here, and if they do it ain’t worth nothin’.”

“They got their farm,” Ludamae said, “Plenty of livestock to keep’em alive, and Miss. Minniejoe says their garden is always plenty full.”

“Yeah? What about in the winter?”

“Maybe they got stuff stored up.” “What about when they ran out of livestock? What’d they live off then, huh?” Ludamae’s patience was running thin with all Hoyt’s pestering. How hard was it to believe a nice family like the Perkins were just a good, hard-working group? That they just did their best with what the Lord had given to them?  “I don’t know, Hoyt.” Ludamae snapped, shoving her hands back in the soapy water to preoccupy her mind with something other than Hoyt’s conspiracies. “Maybe you oughta go over there and ask them.”

Hoyt started to hum under his breath. “Maybe I will mama,” he said, “Maybe I will.”

~ “Should you be out here all by yourself?”

The trucker stared down at Daisy from the window of his cabin, using a hand to shield his eyes from the sun. Daisy smiled, looking down sheepishly to play with the hem of her dress. “I’m afraid I got lost, sir,” She muttered, her eyes flickering between the man and the ground, “I was just goin’ for a little walk, and all of a sudden I’m out here. This heat makes you real confused, y’know.”

The trucker nodded in understanding. Daisy always liked the dumb ones, there were easy to lure and even easier to trick. She smiled her prettiest smile, showing off all her dainty white teeth, and cooed; “I sure would appreciate a ride home. I’m sure my Ma and Pa are worried sick about me.”

For a moment, the trucker frowned. Maybe he was one of those people who didn’t pick up hitchhikers, Daisy thought. She could break out the waterworks, but she was already so dehydrated she was afraid she’d have no tears to give. Maybe a deal? Offer to pay him for the trip, or let him stay the night? Daisy could try using her ‘womanly charms’ as Ma called them, but she always found that a bit awkward--

“Sure, hop in.”

Daisy perked up as the trucker swung the passenger door open. She thanked him kindly and crawled into the seat, already relaxed when the air conditioning hit her hot skin.

As the trucker started the engine back up, Daisy placed a delicate hand on his. “I’m afraid you’ll have to turn around,” she said, “I live back the other way. I hope that’s not too inconvenient for you?”

The trucker shook his head. “Of course not. I’d hate to leave a pretty girl like you standing out here all alone.”

Daisy smiled that coy, bashful smile she always used when she got compliments. She toyed with her dress again and mustered out a “thank you” as the truck roared back to life, and swiftly started down the long, dirt path back to the farm. 

~

The farm was where Daisy and her family lived now. Back when the slaughterhouse was running they had a pretty little house in town, one with flowers growing up the sides and nice, big porch with rocking chairs and daybeds. But once the slaughterhouse shut down and everyone scattered like cockroaches, the family agreed it’d be better to move out to the farm. Living in a ghost-town just made everyone sad.

Still, they kept the house in town clean for special guests, and they all helped out keeping the bakery up and running since you never know when a customer might roll in. But overall, the farm was home now.

“Lewis!” Daisy cheered as she hopped out of the truck, throwing open her arms as she ran towards her brother. He sat on the rocking chair outside, picking at his banjo, and only stopped when he heard Daisy’s voice. He held his arms out in front of him, and Daisy was quick to fill them with a tight hug.

“So, uh… this where you live?”

Daisy paused in her hug to glare at the trucker behind her. Sure, maybe the farm wasn’t much; just a big, fenced-in field with a barn and a little cabin Pa had patched together, but it was theirs and God help her if she was going to let anyone insult it.

“Now listen here, you--”

It was just as Daisy was about to give this man an earful when her Ma stepped outside. With a cheerful shriek, she threw her arms around Daisy and spun her in the air. “Oh, my sweet girl!” She cried, burying her face into Daisy’s hair. “I was so worried about you! Did you get lost again? Wander off to far?”

“Yes ma’am, and I’m--”

“And whose this gentleman?” Ma said, throwing Daisy back to her brother as she approached the trucker. The trucker removed his hat, clenching it between his hands. “Uh, good afternoon, ma’am. My names Tucker, and I just happened to be driving by when I happened upon your daughter--”

“Tucker! What a lovely name,” Ma sighed dreamily, “My name’s Minniejoe. This here’s my boy Lewis Jr., gotta be careful around him cause he’s blind, and this little wanderer is Daisy. My husband’s inside, but I’m sure he’d be delighted to meet you!”

Tucker sputtered. “Oh, uh, I really do appreciate it but I should get going--”

“Nonsense!” Minniejoe laughed, grabbing the man’s hand and dragging him to the house. “After all you’ve done for us, you must meet my husband. In fact, you should stay for dinner! I make a real good pork roast, y’know! Won the county fair once…”

Minniejoe’s chatter trailed off as she dragged Tucker inside, slamming the door shut behind her. Daisy sighed with relief as she knew this meant her chores for the day were done. Beside her, Lewis huffed; “You stink, y’know that?”

Daisy rolled her eyes. “Yeah? How about you try standing in the sun all day?”

“I got better things to do. Besides, you’re good at it. How big was he this time?”

Daisy shrugged, looking out at the pasture exhaustedly. “I don’t know. He’s a big one, probably will give Pa a run for his money once it’s time for eatin’.”

Lewis hummed as he plucked at his banjo, obviously content with the description. “I’m sure Ma’s real proud of ya. Now go up and take a shower, ya filthy animal.”

Daisy huffed and turned on her heel to the house. Before she went inside though, she paused to place her hands on her hips and stick out her tongue at Lewis, playfully scrunching up her face and wiggling her nose.

“I know what you’re doing,” Lewis said, “And you’d better stop before I chop your tongue clean off.” ~

Like most things, Thomas didn’t really have an opinion on the Perkins. They weren’t meat, as Mama had told him, but at the same time, they weren’t friends like Henrietta or Kathy. The Perkins were just there, like the feral dogs that hung around the barn; always around with no real purpose.

The only upside to the Perkins was their bread. He could smell it well before he heard them enter the house, a sweet, warm scent that blocked out the blood and gore he was surrounded with. Next would be the shrill voice of Mrs. Perkins, her insistence that the bread was no big deal and she’d only found it right to bring her neighbors something, and last but not least was the unfamiliar, soft steps making their way towards the basement and Daisy, the youngest Perkins, cooing a hello at him as she set a basket of sweets on the top step.

Thomas would wait until well after they left to go up and get it. His form of ‘thank you’ was letting Mama return it the next day, partially unscathed.

“Tommy! Tommy, you down there? Hey!” Thomas paused in his work when Uncle Hoyt called for him. He was really, really hoping it wasn’t another runner, he was so sick of runners.

“Charlie, you leave my poor boy out of your crazy conspiracies!”

“Mama I done told you it’s Sheriff Hoyt! Now hush up!”

The basement flooded with a dingy, yellow light as the door groaned open. In the light Thomas could make out the silhouettes of Uncle Hoyt and Mama, who stared right back down at him. Mama muttered under her breath, ‘Nobody ever listens to me,’ or something like that, before throwing her arms up in defeat and stepping out of view. Uncle Hoyt twisted his mouth and spat.

“Tommy-boy, you gettin’ your chores done?” Thomas nodded.

“Well. I got another one for you, if you’re feelin’ so inclined.”

Thomas raised an eyebrow and huffed. He couldn’t think of another chore he could do. He already watched the livestock, prepped the meat, took care of the ‘guests’ as Mama called them when they got rowdy, what more could he do?

“You know the Perkins, right? Little family living not too far from here?”

Thomas nodded, this time slower.

“I got a hunch ‘bout them.” Uncle Hoyt said, putting his hands on his hips with a grunt. “A suspicion, if you will. But they don’t trust me none, and I got to thinkin’ ‘Hey, Tommy always seemed friendly with that daughter of theirs.’”

Friendly isn’t what Thomas would’ve called it. He’d say it was more cordial, as Mama said once.

“So I need you to sneak on down there and keep watch on ‘em. No huntin’ or nothin’, just watchin’, like when you’re looking at the cows. You see anything suspicious, or if they spot you, you come right back home and tell me what happened. Y’hear?”

This time, Thomas just stared. Rather than acknowledging the confused silence, Hoyt smiled. “Good. Get goin’ now, Mama will want you home before suppertime.”

~ For a fat man, Tucker was fast.

Daisy pressed her back against a tree, taking deep breaths as the cool evening breeze tickled her skin. It’d be relaxing if not for the fact that in her hands was a bloodied sledgehammer and somewhere, deep in the woods, there was a man with a broken arm. “Tucker, please,” she cried, “Don’t make this difficult. You’ll only rile me up, and I really want this to be quick for you!”

In the bushes was a rustle. Daisy held her breath, waiting to hear it again.

“It won’t hurt, y’know.” She cooed as she stepped closer to the sound, hearing a panicked whimper in response. “Ma makes this special lemonade that’ll put you right to sleep. We’ll do all the bad stuff then, so you won’t feel a thing. You’ll wake up and you’ll be singin’ with the angels.”

There, Daisy thought. Her eyes settled on a thornbush that shivered with every step she took. She creeped closer to it, sledgehammer whiteknuckled in her hand, bringing it high above her head when-- “Oh please God, help me!”

Tucker came flying out so fast Daisy almost fell. He struggled to his feet, cradling his mangled arm as he flew towards the silhouette of a huge, hulking man. “This bitch is crazy!” He cried, “Call the police, call the army, do something--”

And then, that wet, ripping sound of flesh echoed through the woods like a bell.

Tucker hung limply from the man’s hand. From what Daisy could see, the familiar curl of hook jutted out from his back. With a shake, Tucker fell in a heap on the ground, unmoving. Daisy looked up from the body to the man in question. “You must be Thomas.”

Thomas recognized Daisy by her voice. He nodded, and she let out a breathy giggle.

“Well this is, uh, this is one way to meet, huh?”

She laughed, and Thomas just stared.

“He was gonna hurt me.” Daisy started to explain, placing the sledgehammer on the ground beside her. “I mean it, I really do. He was gonna hurt me real bad, and Ma too-”

“Daisy! You kill that bastard yet? It’s nearly suppertime!”

Both Daisy and Thomas paused at the sound of Mrs. Perkins. Daisy winced, looking between the body and the general direction of the voice, letting out a long, heavy sigh. “Looks like I better get going,” she said before turning back to Thomas, “Let me just take care of that-” When Daisy reached for the body, Thomas grabbed her wrist. They stared at each other, like two cornered animals, waiting for the other one to move.

“Daisy! Don’t make me come out there! Daisy!”

“Fine.” She hissed, wrenching her hand away from Thomas’ grip. “You take it. Not like it matters anyways, turn’em into your uncle and get me framed up for murder. See if I care.”

With a huff, she shouldered her sledgehammer back on her arm and stomped back the way she’d come. Thomas heaved the body up over his shoulder as he watched her go, a strange sense of victory washing over him as he returned home with more than he’d bargained for.