Razor Family Farms »

Story Start—STILL Untitled—3

If you are new to this story, then you will want to start from the beginning. Click here to do so. And please, help me out with a title. It’s driving me batty. Let me know what you think:

Perhaps it was a tragic chainsaw accident and someone’s finger simply launched through the air and into Miss Helen’s back garden.  Or perhaps it was a lovers quarrel in which the owner of the finger pulled a Vincent van Gogh and lopped it off — ring and all — as a testament of his great love for Helen, the exotic temptress from the photos and sketches.  Evelyn could not stop coming up with scenarios.

Evelyn gazed at the ring and finger bones nestled in the damp earth.  Without really knowing why, she pulled out a Dairy Queen paper napkin from her pocket and folded the ring inside (and bones) to examine when she wasn’t seated in wet bottomed jeans not four feet from the snoozing Miss Helen.

With one eye fixed on Miss Helen, she dug a bit deeper into the hole and set her findings on the ground in front of her.  In just a few minutes time, she’d pieced together a hand and forearm.  This was not the product of an unfortunate chainsaw accident.  She buried the bones, stood up, and began brushing off her jeans.

“Well, I’m off to Mrs. Heatwole’s house, Miss Clifton.” Evelyn said to the still sleeping Helen.  Her lashes fluttered and caught the sunlight.  Good Lord, the woman had lashes like Rita Hayworth.

“Oh, that’s just fine, Evelyn.  You be sure and tell Glenda that I said hello.  Won’t you?  Do you need any spending money?”  Helen smiled up at Evelyn from the Adirondack chair and reached for her purse.  Helen, like many of the retired ladies, carried her purse everywhere.

Eveyln rattled off the usual speech about how the helpers weren’t allowed to take tips and that it was Sheltering Arms policy.  Then a funny thing happened… Evelyn became very aware that tucked deep in her pocket, wrapped carefully in a crumpled paper napkin with mustard stains from lunch was the bone of a person that Helen probably knew and possibly killed.

“Is something the matter, dear?  You look as though you’ve seen a ghost!” cried Helen as she reached her arms out to Evelyn as if she might crumple gracefully like in the movies.

Evelyn didn’t faint gracefully.

She fell like a tree.

_________________________________________________

“Dean?”

Eyes like chlorine pools with golden flecks searched her face.  Eyes that had her dancing across billowing grasses in flowing skirts and belting out Rogers & Hammerstein songs.  If she was sleeping, she didn’t want to wake and possibly loose out on a single second of soaking him in like a pagan sun worshiper with arms outstretched and radiating heat in her veins.

“Evelyn?  Honey, it’s Helen.  You’ve had a bit of a fall and it’s just a lucky thing my son was coming up the walk when it happened.  What’s Dean’s number?  Do we need to call him?”  Helen’s concerned pixie face came into view as she spoke.

As her vision cleared, Evelyn realized that she was laying on Helen’s comfy couch with her feet propped up on a stack of old magazines and the piano cover draped over her.  Seated on the floor next to her was the master of those glorious eyes and on the heavily varnished coffee table perched a very worried Helen.  Son?  Miss Helen Clifton, the former pinup with a skeleton in her garden had a son?

Helen smiled and winked at the owner of the eyes as Evelyn sat up.  “This is my son, Anthony.  Won’t you have some tea with us?”

Anthony wore a brown herringbone tweed blazer and khaki pants with a blue oxford cloth shirt.  Apparently he walked directly out of an L.L. Bean catalog.  With that full head of dark wavy hair and just the tiniest bit gray at his temples, Evelyn knew she needed to get out of there.  If her knees would support her, that is.

She somehow managed to convince them that she was fine and promised to go straight home instead of Mrs. Heatwole’s house.  As she walked up the steps to her condo, she reached in her pocket for the wad of paper napkin.  Finally she was away from Helen, Helen’s dreamy son, and the gossipy ladies of Sheltering Arms.  Seated in her bright little kitchen with its buttercream walls,  toile de jouy curtains, and cheerful potted plants, she opened the napkin with trembling hands — her mind raced with the rush of it all.  She felt like a character in a poorly written mystery novel, the kind where murder victims magically appeared wherever they went and then in Jessica Fletcher fashion they solved the crime and secured a confession.

It was empty.

Evelyn searched all of her pockets and even stepped out of her jeans.  She stood in her kitchen frantically shaking out dirt-stained denim, sending crumbles of earth flying with her mind turning somersaults.  How?

Who?

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  • Story Start—Untitled—Part 2 : Razor Family Farms - […] here to be taken to the next […]ReplyCancel

  • Michele - Well, here’s me waltzing though it is really more of a shuffle.

    I’m at a conference, Arizona Newspaper Association. I’m promoting the project that I’m the coordinator for; Arizona Memory Project. http://azmemory.lib.az.us.

    But mostly I’m trying to think up a clever title for this amazing piece of work. Which I’m loving BTW! So far I’m thinking along the lines of “Pocketful of Posies”ReplyCancel

  • Linda Sue - Love it – we old broads have more tricks up our sleeves than you young’uns ever thought of! I am identifying with the elderly ex pin up in the story rather than the first person young woman (obviously). Being honest – I am so NOT an ex pinup – well I have played pin the tail on the donkey but that’s another story. Fun time here – no title for you either – I think “Fall from Grace” has probably been used someplace.ReplyCancel

  • Barbie - Arrgh! I hate cliffhangers! Lacy, how could you do this to me? Title, title, title…I’m thinking……..Nope, nothing yet. Need to know more. 🙂 Guess you’ll just have to write more if you want a title.ReplyCancel

  • Rosa - I’m getting hooked ;-P! Great style!

    I love that pin-up picture!

    Cheers and have a great weekend,

    RosaReplyCancel

  • Leah - Ugh, sooooo good Lacy! Can’t wait to find out what happens next!

    And thank you for the little bit of a distraction, and the grin (that Anthony sure does sound like a total dreamboat!) – it was much needed tonight.ReplyCancel

  • amyb - LOVE IT!!!

    you are so talented!ReplyCancel

  • Julie at Elisharose - Love it! I’m usually better at titles than the actual story, but I don’t have one yet. Guess you’ll have to keep writing! : )

    Why aren’t you showing up on my Bloglines?ReplyCancel

  • Fishing Guy - Lacy: I can hardly wait to find where this is going.ReplyCancel

  • Paulette - ohhhh, I love it! Really, really good Lacy.

    Are you writing this as you go? I can’t imagine doing that, you have such a talent.

    I can’t wait for the next installment.ReplyCancel

  • Kath - What a pic! LOL

    Lacy, I’m loving the story!!! The pics. The cliffhangers….. Love it ALL!! Impatiently waiting for the next installment.ReplyCancel

  • Momisodes - You’re KILLING me with these cliff hangers.

    This was awesome. Sorry for the lame choice of words, but it was awesome.

    Are you going to make this a weekly installment? I love the title suggestions from the comments above: Pocket full of posies and Fall from grace.ReplyCancel

  • CrossView - I love this! =D

    Did Dean get killed?
    What did she get arrested for?
    Is there romanace lurking with the son?
    Did the ring fall somewhere or did the woman and/or her son take it?
    Did the woman even know it was buried there?

    I can’t wait!ReplyCancel

  • Sheri - This is fantastic! I can’t believe I have been away so long and missed your debut. I am all caught up now though and can’t wait to read some more.ReplyCancel

  • marky - Each installment gets better!!
    I’m still thinking on a title.ReplyCancel

  • Tipper - Love the finger part and the disappearing part! You are so good at this Lacy-a real talent you have.ReplyCancel

  • thehollytree - WELLLLLL….. !! Okay, I’ve read the whole story to date, and I have to agree with the other posters here about the finger and its disappearance being absolutely fabulous. 🙂

    Since the story seems to be about a woman with a secret past, it seems to me that the title should reflect that in some way. *hmmm* What about something like “The Pin-up” – as a working title? Depending on the direction the story is taking, that would at least give you something to start with. 🙂

    I’m very interested in the direction this story is going to take, Lacy. So far, it’s pretty doggone awesome! 🙂ReplyCancel

  • Ann - Oooooooo, who? What? How? More, more, MORE – me want more!!!!ReplyCancel

  • Dawn - You know, I don’t read books because I can’t read them in their entirety in one sitting. I have a good mind to stop reading your story until you are done, so I don’t have to be in suspense.ReplyCancel

  • Lynnie - Ah, shoot, the whole time she was passed out I was thinking, “Oh no! Someone’s going to take the finger!!!!!” and someone darn well did! Well, I certainly hope you intend to finish this story now that you have all of us hanging on! Sorry, I am totally bad at suggesting titles. I have a hard enough time titling each post on my blog and, let’s face it, some of them are pretty bad!
    Can’t wait until the next installment!ReplyCancel

  • gingela5 - Oh BOY! THis is getting good! 🙂 Keep going Keep going!ReplyCancel

  • Barb - OMG Lacy! You are really setting the pace of intrique here! We need more! This is getting wonderfully ‘spooky’! (course it is close to your favorite day of the year! Oct 31! )
    I’ve missed coming over for a visti…will try to be better!
    Momma BarbReplyCancel

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