Fear On The Bayou

Dressed in black. Bayou Bartholomew divides the woodlands and farmlands of Southeastern Arkansas. Dark matter filling the hot, sticky air of summer in the Delta. Contorted between bald cypresses rooted in murky water. Perhaps concealing an alligator on the hunt. The mosquitos are certainly out for blood. Other insects comprise a symphony in collaboration with croaking frogs. The aural experience of this wetland both silent and deafening at once. An adjacent field hides nothing yet embodies the spookiness of an English moor. Bordered by AR 11. Equally sinister. Two lanes gray and battered as the surface of Luna above. She and the stars providing the only illumination upon trees and farmland in every direction. The landscape punctuated with the decrepit remains of structures abandoned decades prior. Now inhabited by the ghosts of dreams that died long ago. A depressing thought to many, but a source of inspiration to the few who once again dare to dream.

One new model dream appears a few miles east. Past a cornfield stands an old feed store building. Centered in a gravel parking lot. Ostensibly another relic of days gone by on this stretch of lonely road. The paint on its corrugated metal siding so weathered that the outline of “Rowton’s Feed Store” emblazoned on the side is barely legible. Even less so than the broken yellow line dividing the highway lanes. It’s easy to see this place as a community hub once upon a time. Where business deals were struck, and gossip was spread. And tonight, after years of disuse, it’s that location again. A slice of economic renaissance in the heart of a region that’s suffered so long. Inviting fellow dreamers to stop and see what’s inside.

“You shouldn’t have left the city,” Todd shakes his head at Holly while his eyes constantly take in his surroundings.

She stares at him. Sipping her chardonnay. The dining room is small yet full of life on this Saturday night. Chattering and silverware clinking on plates fill the air along with “More Than This” by Roxy Music. Finding herself wanting more personal fulfillment than she’d ever let herself desire previously. The same is true of the exciting new world around her. Breaking the chains of cultural and fiscal bondage forced upon it long ago by asking questions and finding answers. One at a time. Each bringing liberation from a broken and dying machine closer every day. That someone would have the audacity to take a stab at fine dining while working with so little in the middle of nowhere inspires her to no end. The thought of pursuing her own wildest dreams in the face of so much adversity sparks fear and excitement within her soul.

“Well,” Todd snarks while holding up a piece of cornbread, “At least I can now say that I’ve eaten at a restaurant based around cornbread.”

“It’s good,” Holly enthuses, “And it’s made from corn grown right next door. Doesn’t get any fresher than that.”

“Aw, hell. If I’d know that, I’d have worn some overalls, a straw hat, and no shoes,” he muses sarcastically while glancing around, “Does this place even have a liquor license? Or any government oversight?”

“Don’t be like that, Todd,” she sighs, “You’ve had your shots. What are you worried about?”

“That’s right. I shouldn’t be upset about the idea of you raising our son in this environment,” he scoffs, “I can’t believe I let you have custody.”

“You ‘let’ me have custody when you stepped out with that tramp from HR,” she scolds him, “Besides, Michael loves the open space and freedom to explore nature. He’s having a blast.”

“Good thing his grandmother can talk some sense into him this weekend,” he smirks, “Someone needs to help me keep him grounded. The last thing we need is for him to end up like this.”

Todd motions to a middle-aged couple dining with a man of around thirty. Presumably their son. A tall, burly man who’s no stranger to manual labor. To working the field, perhaps, given his bronzed skin. His calloused hands gripping a double cheeseburger. Taking a healthy bite while glaring at Todd with disgust. Seemingly as out of place within this sleek, modernist interior as the building’s exterior is. An interior that retains the brick veneers, exposed wooden beams, and concrete floor of yesteryear. But it’s the augmentation of it all with ambient lighting, sophisticated music, and sleek tablescapes that adds style and romance to this simple aesthetic. Exposing sexiness where people might not typically think to find it. It is within this context that the man is right at home.

“I think we just found the Boggy Creek Monster,” Todd chuckles as the man looks towards his parents, “This is surely the epitumia that Homer wrote about in The Republic.”

“That was Plato,” the man responds calmly before taking another generous bite.

“Oh my God,” Todd laughs like a jackass, “It can read.”

“Will you stop it!” Holly admonishes Todd before turning to the man, “I apologize for my ex-husband. There’s a reason why he’s an ex.”

The man silently looks Holly up and down while eating. His gaze washing over her repeatedly gives her chills. She’s not sure why. Overcome with a contrast of disgust and flattery. Caution and curiosity. Fear and excitement.

“This is a dangerous place, Holly. Full of dangerous people,” Todd leans in, “Like our neighbor over here. Who knows what someone like that would do to Michael? Or you if he had the chance.”

Todd and Holly are interrupted by the sound of the man blowing his nose loudly into a red bandana. He looks at them with a sense of personal self-fulfillment while returning it to his hip pocket. Todd lingers briefly on the sight of it hanging out before turning back to Holly.

“Look,” Todd searches for the right words, “I gave you every chance to do the right thing.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” she inquires defensively.

“Nothing,” Todd shakes his head and laughs, “Are we ready for the check?”

“I’ve got it,” Holly motions towards the waitress who walks over to them, “We’re ready.”

“How will you be paying?” the waitress sets the check on the table.

“Bitcoin,” Holly responds.

“I guess it makes sense to spend fake money in a fake restaurant,” Todd snarks.

Holly sighs in disgust while scanning the QR code with her phone. Not just at this remark, but at Todd in general. She should’ve gone and got the rest of Michael’s stuff herself instead of accepting her ex-husband’s so-called generosity in bringing it to her. The guy can’t even graciously accept free dinner at a great restaurant. All she can hope for now is to get out of here before he embarrasses her again.

“Whoa!” Todd stumbles while standing and falls onto the burger man who quickly stands up.

“Are you okay?” Holly asks with more than a hint of annoyance.

“I’m fine,” Todd jumps up, “I think it’s the awful lighting in here. Come on. Let’s go.”

The burger man continues glaring at Todd and Holly as he rushes her outside. The hot and humid air smacks them across the face in stark contrast to the air-conditioned dining room. So does the cacophony of wildlife sounds. Each direction of the highway stretching into pitch-black infinity. Moving further and further from the dim amber glow of the restaurant’s porch light.

“Okay,” Todd unlocks his SUV and opens the door, “I’d better hit the road.”

Holly starts to ask if he’s okay to drive but decides she’s had enough of his attitude for one night.

“Be safe driving back,” she says, “And tell Michael I love him.”

“Of course,” he answers, “You be safe too.”

Todd disappears down the highway before Holly can process his expedient departure. She chalks it up to more of his trademark “Toddity” as she coined it years prior. No matter. She makes her exit on the lonely road. Windows down. Music blasting. “Stranger in Town” by Toto serenading her journey home. The hot and humid air now refreshing as it caresses her face in a cool rush. Whipping her hair into an untamed frenzy. The fragrance of rich soil filling her nose. Dirty and clean at once. The purr of the engine vibrating through her body. She now knows what freedom is. To be free of her obtusely self-important ex-husband and everyone like him. Those who discouraged any hint of individuality she dared express at every turn. She’s not running away from them. Rather, she’s racing into a future of her choosing. One filled with so much promise and potential that her heart races. Her skin tingles. The world is truly hers tonight.

It’s at this point she notices a pickup truck several lengths behind her. Paying no mind until she turns left onto AR 114. The truck follows suit. Maintaining the same distance. Mild concern quickly turns to laughter. Realizing this is nothing more than a coincidence. Excitement and a desire for action causing her imagination to run even wilder. And maybe that’s the point her subconscious is making. That she’s been on the right track since leaving Todd and the city behind. Throwing caution to the wind a little more each day. Taking new chances. Discovering the world around her. Discovering herself. No longer living in fear masked with snark like Todd and her former friends she left behind. Nevertheless, she breathes a sigh of relief while slowing to turn right onto a county road. Surely ending this unwitting pursuit.

She glances in the rearview mirror to see the truck still following. Now feeling spooked, her heart races faster. Thinking how her new home is in a remote area even by the standards of the area. Her neighbors few and far between. Divided by fields, farmland, trees, and wetlands. Her white-knuckled grip on the steering wheel gets whiter when the truck mimics her left turn onto another county road. Panic sets in as she dwells on Todd’s words tonight. What if there are dangerous people here who would hurt her. Her sole relief right now is that Michael isn’t here. But she’s no good to her son dead. It’s the unfamiliarity of the country, the source of her newfound excitement, that unnerves her the most right now. Wishing she’d already purchased her first gun and learned how to use it. Instead of procrastinating on that unfamiliarity.

She enters the homestretch. Turning left onto the next county road. She looks back to see the mystery truck maintaining pursuit. What if it’s the guy from the restaurant? He was certainly eyeing her after Todd caught his attention. If it’s him, maybe he thinks Todd is with her. Or perhaps he wants her. Shaking profusely as she plots her strategy with home being a half-mile up the road. She may not own a gun, but she has plenty of knives in her kitchen. She can rush inside, arm herself, and hide before her pursuer makes his way inside. This will give her the element of surprise. Jumping out without warning. Stabbing him in the gut with her favorite butcher’s knife. Bleeding him out before he knows what’s happening. She can do this. It’s not like she has a choice.

Housekey in one hand as she jerks the wheel left and swings hard onto her long driveway. Pedal to the metal towards the front door. Slamming on the brakes and skidding to a stop. Dirt and gravel still flying when she jumps out and rushes inside. Immediately locking it and looking out the window. Only to see the truck continue down the road at the same pace. As if the driver was oblivious to her presence the entire time. Simply tooling down the road to a destination via a path that happened to mirror hers. Shaking uncontrollably. Heart pounding. She struggles to catch her breath. Cautiously heading back outside to shut off her car. Quickly returning to the house. Leaning back on the front door. She regains her composure which turns to laughter.

“Oh my God,” she sighs, “I’m such a hot mess.”

Holly giggles as she strolls to the bedroom. Wasting no time peeling off her clothes in the moonlight entering through Venetian blinds. Drawing stripes across her naked body that follow her into the bathroom. Foregoing the bright vanity in favor of the overhead light’s dim amber glow. As comforting to her soul as the hot water caressing her skin is to her body. Closing her eyes. Breathing a sigh. Taking it all in. The entire night. Fear and excitement. Her drive home having evolved from terror to self-deprecation. And now into curiosity and intrigue as her imagination once again runs wild. What if that burly country boy had made an awkward attempt to know her better? He’s not the sort of guy she’d have ever thought twice about in her old life. But now finding herself in a moment of clarity. Realizing that her thirst for adventure and trying new things knows no bounds. Fear and excitement once again washing over her.

She removes the handheld showerhead from its clip and leans back against the wall. Moving the head down her torso. Between her legs. Taking in the sensation of warm jets massaging her. Dancing relentlessly upon her delicate sensuality. She stares into the darkness of her bedroom peeking through the slightly open door. Closing her eyes again. Imagining that country boy watching her from the cover of night. Through the opaque shower door and steam. Made steamier by her building climax. The shaking and white-knuckle grip have returned but are driven by a different motivation. A different fear. Chills cover her body in defiance of the heat. She can feel his eyes upon her naked body. Watching as she pleasures herself. His presence seems so real. Feeling his stare penetrate her soul as an orgasmic wave sweeps over her.

Holly ends her bedtime shower escapade. Stepping out and drying off. Wrapping the towel around her. Turning out the light. Returning to her moonlit bedroom. Suddenly, she’s frozen in place. Gripped with fear. A fear she’s never experienced before. A fear that is not accompanied by excitement. Instead, an overwhelming sense of dread fills her from head to toe. A self-awareness of her mortality that couldn’t be any more crystal clear. She feels his eyes burning a hole through her body. His hatred for her so blinding in its infinite blackness. Blacker than his silhouette as he moves around her in the darkness. Deftly avoiding letting his face being seen. His shadow towers over her. Circling her like a predator. And she, his prey. All her senses on high alert. Yet she is powerless to resist.

“Who’s there?” she pleads weakly in the hope that vulnerability will gift mercy.

She’s answered by the blade of her favorite butcher’s knife penetrating her neck from the side. Sliding through her flesh. Slashing her jugular. Piercing her throat. Twisting ninety degrees before pulling out. All in one fluid motion. Quick and painless yet feeling like an eternity of unspeakable suffering. Clutching her wound as blood gushes forth. Even without looking down, and in the blackness of night, all she can see now is red. Dropping to her knees. Knowing the irreversibility of her injury and accepting her fate. All her big dreams for her child and herself now taken from her in an instant. Forever. Her only objective remaining is to know the identity of who has destroyed everything she sought. Taken away the freedom she’d long coveted and was finally making hers. Who would be so cold and callous as to do this to another human being? She gets that answer when her killer steps into the moon’s glow and reveals himself.

“You shouldn’t have left the city,” Todd seethes in the iciest tone imaginable.

Holly spends her final seconds alive staring at him. Processing this revelation in her mind. Debating whether she should be shocked or not. Todd removes the red bandana he stole from the man in the restaurant after pretending to fall on him. Dropping it to the floor and establishing the frame up before leaving. She collapses to the floor. Fear and excitement fade to black.