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Authors: Stanley Gordon West
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faces. “I’ve dreamed of that day,” he said.
They traded high fives, laughing and hooting. Soon they fell silent, looking into each other’s eyes. Tom felt a vow had been taken, a bond formed, and they paused for a minute, letting it sink in. He knew he’d have to buck his dad about this, but he couldn’t wait for the season to begin, when he could start kicking ass.
Willow Creek had four basketball players.
CHAPTER 9
The blacktop highway goes to Willow Creek to die.
During her stay in Willow Creek, Diana had sensed an invisible flag of surrender fluttering over the town. Though there were more than a few well-off and even wealthy ranchers on neighboring land who coffeed and socialized in Willow Creek, a dark pessimism had firmly entrenched itself into the daily lives of its citizens like ticks. Here, people resigned themselves to a mediocre life, to an uneventful, aimless existence.
For every house that was maintained, one had been left to the whims of sun and weather. For every yard neatly trimmed, one had gone to seed. For every trailer house spruced up with pride, there was another surrounded by discarded junk decaying and forgotten.
Some people had journeyed here only to see their carefully woven dreams unravel, their once bright hopes fade or rust. Others, who had already given up on living, migrated to Willow Creek to settle into the dust, a place at the end of life, a place where their personal abandonment and isolation could be fulfilled.
Diana wondered if Sam Pickett was one of these. Perhaps he was secretly drowning, up to his ears, struggling but losing, soon to become another Willow Creek casualty. As for herself, Diana believed she knew what she was doing. She was in Willow Creek for a brief detour on her personal journey of healing and regaining her balance. But try as she may she couldn’t ignore the graveyard crouched across the tracks to the west like a predator facing the withering herd, watching and waiting.
After rummaging for half an hour into cupboards and a near-empty refrigerator and finding only a reluctance to cook after a long day at school, Diana drove from the old farmhouse she rented into Willow Creek. Traveling directly into the falling sun, she flipped the visor down and slid on her sunglasses.
Suddenly, out of the blinding glare, a large rabbit appeared on the road.
Oh God! Brakes! Don’t swerve! Don’t swerve!
At the last second, the rabbit bolted to safety and the Volvo skidded and squealed to a dead stop. Diana’s hands were tightly locked on the steering wheel. Her face, her whole body, was damp with perspiration. She could feel her heartbeat in her temples and she struggled to catch her breath.
Oh, God, she thought, it’s just a rabbit, happens all the time, just let it go. Her leg was locked rigid, her foot still jammed on the brake pedal. Her arms and hands trembled on the wheel and she forced herself to breathe deeply, a trick she’d learned to calm herself just this past year. She glanced in the rearview mirror for any cars or trucks. Then she slowly moved her foot onto the accelerator and crawled down the road, trying desperately not to lose it altogether.
When she entered the Blue Willow’s dining room, Axel took one look at her and came barreling over.
“Are you all right, girl?” He pulled out a chair at an unoccupied table and she dropped into it. “You look kind of pale. Are you feeling okay?”
“I’m all right. I just about hit a rabbit on the highway and it scared me a little.” Diana hadn’t planned on telling anyone; she scolded herself and didn’t want to give her fear any power.
Axel laughed. “Don’t give it a thought, happens all the time around here. If you nail a nice big jack, haul it in here. We can always cook up some
road kill.”
His words cut her like a razor. She felt queasy and faint.
Vera, Axel’s wife, pushed him aside. “You leave her alone, you old coot. Can’t you see the girl is upset?”
Vera sat with her
They traded high fives, laughing and hooting. Soon they fell silent, looking into each other’s eyes. Tom felt a vow had been taken, a bond formed, and they paused for a minute, letting it sink in. He knew he’d have to buck his dad about this, but he couldn’t wait for the season to begin, when he could start kicking ass.
Willow Creek had four basketball players.
CHAPTER 9
The blacktop highway goes to Willow Creek to die.
During her stay in Willow Creek, Diana had sensed an invisible flag of surrender fluttering over the town. Though there were more than a few well-off and even wealthy ranchers on neighboring land who coffeed and socialized in Willow Creek, a dark pessimism had firmly entrenched itself into the daily lives of its citizens like ticks. Here, people resigned themselves to a mediocre life, to an uneventful, aimless existence.
For every house that was maintained, one had been left to the whims of sun and weather. For every yard neatly trimmed, one had gone to seed. For every trailer house spruced up with pride, there was another surrounded by discarded junk decaying and forgotten.
Some people had journeyed here only to see their carefully woven dreams unravel, their once bright hopes fade or rust. Others, who had already given up on living, migrated to Willow Creek to settle into the dust, a place at the end of life, a place where their personal abandonment and isolation could be fulfilled.
Diana wondered if Sam Pickett was one of these. Perhaps he was secretly drowning, up to his ears, struggling but losing, soon to become another Willow Creek casualty. As for herself, Diana believed she knew what she was doing. She was in Willow Creek for a brief detour on her personal journey of healing and regaining her balance. But try as she may she couldn’t ignore the graveyard crouched across the tracks to the west like a predator facing the withering herd, watching and waiting.
After rummaging for half an hour into cupboards and a near-empty refrigerator and finding only a reluctance to cook after a long day at school, Diana drove from the old farmhouse she rented into Willow Creek. Traveling directly into the falling sun, she flipped the visor down and slid on her sunglasses.
Suddenly, out of the blinding glare, a large rabbit appeared on the road.
Oh God! Brakes! Don’t swerve! Don’t swerve!
At the last second, the rabbit bolted to safety and the Volvo skidded and squealed to a dead stop. Diana’s hands were tightly locked on the steering wheel. Her face, her whole body, was damp with perspiration. She could feel her heartbeat in her temples and she struggled to catch her breath.
Oh, God, she thought, it’s just a rabbit, happens all the time, just let it go. Her leg was locked rigid, her foot still jammed on the brake pedal. Her arms and hands trembled on the wheel and she forced herself to breathe deeply, a trick she’d learned to calm herself just this past year. She glanced in the rearview mirror for any cars or trucks. Then she slowly moved her foot onto the accelerator and crawled down the road, trying desperately not to lose it altogether.
When she entered the Blue Willow’s dining room, Axel took one look at her and came barreling over.
“Are you all right, girl?” He pulled out a chair at an unoccupied table and she dropped into it. “You look kind of pale. Are you feeling okay?”
“I’m all right. I just about hit a rabbit on the highway and it scared me a little.” Diana hadn’t planned on telling anyone; she scolded herself and didn’t want to give her fear any power.
Axel laughed. “Don’t give it a thought, happens all the time around here. If you nail a nice big jack, haul it in here. We can always cook up some
road kill.”
His words cut her like a razor. She felt queasy and faint.
Vera, Axel’s wife, pushed him aside. “You leave her alone, you old coot. Can’t you see the girl is upset?”
Vera sat with her
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