End of the Road: Ghost Stories Trilogy, #1

By E.J. Fechenda

The year was 1935 when Lawrence watched his family die before he took his own life on the side of the road in the high desert of Arizona. While his wife and children crossed over, Lawrence did not. Decades pass and more people die by various circumstances along this same stretch of highway. For some, their spirits remain earthbound. Confined to this area, the ghosts form a community. Over time they learn to channel energy and move objects, communicate with the living and even assist in roadside rescues.

Yavapai County Sheriff’s Deputy, Elena Hernandez, is on the scene of a dangerous wildfire when she mistakes two spirits for civilians. She attempts to save them, but instead succumbs to the smoke and they wind up saving her. With a train wreck of a personal life, the last thing Elena wants is the ability to see dead people. Indebted to the ghosts who rescued her, Elena promises to help the earthbound spirits cross over, despite the risks it may pose to her career.

During the process, Elena meets a psychic medium who provides much needed guidance for her new gift. Helping the ghosts cross over isn't a simple task and Elena finds herself becoming emotionally invested. Unresolved issues with her ex-husband complicate matters even more and she realizes that fulfilling her promise to the ghosts will either further derail her life or maybe, just maybe, through the dead she can learn to live again.

*Contains mature content such as a sexual assault and drug use.

• Language: English
• Publisher: E.J. Fechenda
• Release date: May 15, 2016
• ISBN: 9781533753984

E.J. Fechenda

E.J. Fechenda has lived in Philadelphia, Phoenix and now calls Portland, Maine home where she is a wife, stepmom, and pet parent all while working full time. Crazy is how she likes it. E.J. has a degree in Journalism from Temple University and her short stories have been published in Suspense Magazine, the 2010 and 2011 Aspiring Writers Anthologies, and in the Indies Unlimited 2012 Flash Fiction Anthology. In addition to writing The New Mafia Trilogy, she is working on The Ghosts Stories Trilogy. E.J. is a member of the Maine Writers and Publishers Alliance and co-founder of the fiction reading series, “Lit: Readings & Libations”, which is held quarterly in Portland. E.J. can be found on the internet here: Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/EJFechendaAuthor Twitter @ebusjaneus (https://twitter.com/ebusjaneus) Tumblr: http://ejfechenda.tumblr.com/

Book preview

Chapter One

Lawrence Sheldon Cranston

b.1899 – d.1935

I STOOD AT THE END of the walkway a broken man. Our once lush, manicured lawn had long faded to brown. We were unable to afford the water to maintain it and in Phoenix, that required a lot of the precious resource. The shirt underneath my speckled gray suit jacket was soaked and the pungent odor of sweat wafted up, but dead grass and body odor were the least of my worries. Helen stepped out onto our porch, wiping her hands on the floral skirt of her housedress. With a heavy sigh, I walked up to meet her.

How did it go? she asked.

I looked at her, noticing the fine lines around her eyes and mouth were deeper since our troubles began.

Where are the kids?

They’re downstairs playing in the basement trying to stay cool.

I nodded and turned to face the street. Please sit with me.

Helen moved beside me with a fluid grace indicative of her childhood ballet lessons. We sat next to each other on the porch steps. I took a few moments to survey our palm tree lined street, our house was one of the few not for sale or under foreclosure. We had avoided losing our house so far, but couldn’t any longer.

Helen began before I could. What did Mr. Keeley say?

He can’t afford me anymore either. He offered a horse to pay off the debt he owes.

A horse? That won’t feed our children or keep a roof over our heads! Helen’s hazel eyes welled up with tears and the defeat I felt was clearly etched on her face.

I know. He suggested I sell it.

Right, buyers will be lining up.

With a sweep of her arm, she gestured at the vacant homes surrounding us before she leaned against me and sobbed. I put my arm around her slim waist and held her close.

What are we going to do? she whispered.

I imagined countless couples were having the same conversation at this very moment. Millions already had after Wall Street bottomed out on Black Tuesday. Here it was, four years later, and the country was practically bankrupt with no end in sight. Even my parents were struggling and couldn’t help us. With our families in Boston, we were basically stranded.

I’m going back downtown tomorrow. The Civilian Conservation Corps is seeking men to help build the Walnut Canyon Visitors Center in Flagstaff.

Construction, Lawrence? But you’re an accountant. Besides, I thought it’s only for men ages eighteen to twenty-five.

It’s a job, Helen, an income we desperately need. I’ll talk to them. I didn’t tell her just how badly we needed money. She thought we were only a month behind on our mortgage, but it was worse than that.

She wiped the tears off her cheeks and flashed a weak smile. We’ll get through this, right?

Yes, my dear. This too shall pass. I gave her a light squeeze before standing up, What’s on the menu for lunch?

You’re in for a treat - BLT’s. There’s enough bacon left over from breakfast. Now, if Mr. Keeley could pay us with a pig like Hal Green did, that would be preferable.

He’s getting by the best he can, just like us. I kissed the top of her forehead and tasted the salt from evaporated sweat. It was mid-June and temperatures already topped one hundred degrees. The summers always reminded me of how glad I was that we had the foresight to have our home built with a basement. Most home designs in Phoenix didn’t come with one and I honestly didn’t know how people managed to stay cool. A few of our neighbors had been envious of our ability to retreat downstairs and escape the brutal heat.

We walked down the hallway towards the kitchen, our footsteps echoing on the hardwood floors. Our home seemed larger since most of the furniture had been parsed out for far less than it was worth. Groceries, utilities and the mortgage payment were more important. A small settee, hutch and a steamer trunk, which had been passed down to Helen after her mother died, were the only furnishings left in the living room. The dining room was empty.

Helen, before Sara comes upstairs, I guided my wife into the living room by her elbow. You know her friend Lindsay Shepherd who lives on East Vernon Street?

Yes.

I walked by her house this morning and her family was loading up their car. There’s a foreclosure sign on the lawn.

Oh no! Helen gasped and covered her mouth with her hand. That’s awful! Sara will be devastated. Lindsay was her only friend left in the neighborhood.

I know we agreed not to tell the children about our troubles, but I think we need to be honest with them. We could very easily be the Shepherds and I don’t want them to be caught off guard.

Yes, that would be worse and they’re not blind, they have to be aware that something is going on. Not all of our furniture can be sent out for refinishing.

I admired Helen’s ability to find humor even in a dire situation. Mae West doesn’t have anything on you. I kissed her forehead again before we walked into the kitchen. With the dining room empty, we ate at an unfinished wood table, large enough for the four of us. Our days of hosting dinner parties had been over for a while.

I have an idea, Helen said. Can you call Teddy and Sara upstairs? I’ll make the sandwiches.

Within seconds of calling their names a stampede of little feet bounded up the basement steps.

Daddy, you’re home early! Sara exclaimed and hugged me. Her blonde curls crushed against my chest and I was quick to return the hug.

Yes and he has the rest of the day off, Helen said.

Really? Teddy flashed a gap toothed grin.

Yes. So, we’re going to have a picnic lunch at the park!

Teddy and Sara bounced around with excitement. Helen wrapped sandwiches in waxed paper and stuffed them in a cloth bag along with four oranges from the tree in our backyard. Our subdivision was built on land that used to be an orange grove. Each parcel came with a citrus tree. This source of free fruit had never been more appreciated.

The kids skipped ahead. Teddy had his baseball bat slung over his shoulder with his glove perched on the end like it was gripping the smooth wood. Sara cradled her Raggedy Anne doll under one arm. Helen and I meandered along behind, holding hands. Her suggestion had lifted the melancholy of the morning.

Unfortunately, the levity didn’t last.

Chapter Two

THE PARK WAS A SMALL square of dying grass a few blocks over from our street. There were a couple of benches and several shade trees, which made for a great picnic location. Usually we ran into one or two families there. This time the park was empty. One of the benches was missing, the glass globe on one of the street lamps was broken and the trees had been picked clean, including the usual scattering of rotten fruit on the ground.

A general sense of unease enveloped me upon seeing our beloved park so barren. Most of the surrounding homes appeared to be deserted. Either abandoned or reclaimed by the banks. There were some homes where the construction had come to a halt leaving behind half-built structures; skeletal remains of what was once a booming industry.

Helen spread a quilt out on the ground, careful to avoid any red ant hills. She laid out our simple lunch fare and the children dove in. Helen kneeled with her dress tucked underneath her knees and I sat down next to her. There was a light breeze that made the heat more bearable.

I was on the second half of my sandwich when Teddy declared he was still hungry. Helen handed him her remaining half. I stared down at mine, feeling guilty. She lightly touched my hand and I looked up at her. It’s okay, she mouthed. I vowed then and there to make everything up to her. I would do my damndest to get on the Civilian Conservation Corps.

After lunch Sara asked to see if Lindsay could play. Helen and I regarded each other. She nodded for me to proceed.

Honey, I walked by Lindsay’s house this morning and they were packing up their car.

They’re moving? Her eyes, the same hazel as Helen’s, squinted in confusion.

Yes. So, I don’t think this is a good time to go over there.

Not even to say goodbye?

Your mother and I wanted to talk to you both about what is happening around us.

When the stock market first crashed and the financial fallout followed, we had told them what was happening in the country, even if parts weren’t comprehended by their young minds. We knew they talked about it with their friends too, especially as families started to move away. Helen and I hadn’t gone into too much detail though because we didn’t want them to worry. We still wanted them to have a childhood, but the time for honesty had come.

Are we going to move too, father? Teddy asked.

We might have to. I’m going to go see about a job tomorrow.

I can get a job. I can help! he offered, sitting up straight to appear taller.

You have job already.

I do? His blue eyes lit up with surprise.

Yes, you’re a student, a big brother and a son. That’s a lot of responsibility for an eight year old. I tousled his brown hair and said, Now let’s play ball!

I pitched to Teddy and he took a swing every time. Every once in a while he’d make contact and I’d put on a big show out of missing the catch, running with my arms pumping in an exaggerated fashion to retrieve it, which caused him to bend over laughing. We were getting ready to finish our game when Teddy whacked the ball, the crack from the bat echoed off of the houses around us and I didn’t have to fake missing the catch that time. I told Teddy to head back to the picnic area before following the ball as it rolled lazily down the street where it was stopped by a man. My eyes went from his scuffed and worn boots and took in the rags he was clothed in. The vagrant picked up the ball and smiled. His smile didn’t reach his eyes, which were a pale, watery blue against tanned, weather beaten skin.

Looking for this?

Yes, thank you. I reached out, but the man held onto the ball, his mouth twisted up in a smirk revealing tobacco stained teeth.

That’s a mighty nice watch, he said, eyeing up my wrist.

I understood his intentions immediately. This was my grandfather’s watch, a wedding present from my father. Helen and I had sworn that family heirlooms would be the very last thing we’d sell. If this is what he was after, I was willing to bet I wanted it more. Crossing my arms over my chest, I hid my wrist from his view.

Thank you. Can I have the ball please? My son and I are playing.

Trade ya, for the watch.

Ha! No deal sir. You can keep it. I turned and started to walk away, but was suddenly yanked back. The man had grabbed my shirt and pulled me against him. Wrapping an arm around my torso and squeezing like a boa constrictor, he then pressed a knife to my throat with his free hand. The metal blade was cool and the tip pinched, threatened to break the surface of my skin.

I’ve killed for less, he breathed in my ear. I’d taken my glasses off to play with Teddy, but in the distance I could make out the blurry shape of Helen. She was starting to approach.

Okay, you can have it. I gave in, desperate to keep my family out of harm’s way. I extended my arm and the man snatched the watch. Pressure from the blade lifted and he shoved me forward.

Here, catch! The man bent down and picked the baseball up from where he had dropped it then he tossed it at me. I trade fair, he said and spat tobacco juice onto the street before walking away.

On unsteady legs, I ran back to my family and urged them to get their stuff together.

What happened? Helen asked. Who were you talking to?

There are too many strangers around. Let’s go.

Sensing the urgency in my tone, Helen shook the blanket and rolled it, not bothering to take the time to fold it neatly. She grabbed Sara’s hand despite a whine of protest.

Can we stop at Lindsay’s? I want to say goodbye. Sara peered up at me with sad eyes. I surveyed the neighborhood, but didn’t see the transient anywhere.

Licking my dry lips, I nodded once. Okay, but we have to be fast.

The next block over was East Vernon Street and we walked quickly, practically dragging the children behind us. I panted from the exertion in the prickly heat. Sara broke free of Helen’s grasp and ran ahead to Lindsay’s. We caught up to her a few seconds later where we found her sitting on the front steps.

They’re already gone, she said, her lower lip stuck out in a pout.

The front door was ajar and I peered inside. A few scraps of paper and some gray tufts of dust were all that remained behind.

I’m sorry sweetheart, I said and sat down next to her.

Sobbing, she leaned against me and I couldn’t find any words to comfort her, just held her close like I’d done with Helen earlier that morning.

Chapter Three

THE NEXT MORNING I walked a half mile to the light rail line. Thank God this existed as we hadn’t been able to afford gas for our Model T in weeks. I left before the sun was up, so I wouldn’t overheat, and also to be one of the first to sign up for the C.C.C. Others had the same idea for there were at least twenty men already waiting for the doors to open. John Keeley, one of my former clients, stood in line along with several other people I recognized. Many who were considered upper middle class like me were now desperate for labor of any kind. The experience was humbling.

Lawrence, Keeley said with a dip of his head.

John. I nodded in return. I might take you up on the offer of that horse.

I’m sorry I can’t pay you. I’ll bring the mare by this afternoon.

Excellent. My stomach knotted with worry when I realized this meant another mouth to feed and hoped it was easy to find a buyer. John turned back to face the doors. I lifted my jacket sleeve to check the time and then remembered I no longer had a watch; only tan lines to remind me of what I once had. Dropping my arm to my side, I waited.

There wasn’t any shade outside of city hall and the sun baked us while we waited. I stared up at the eagles carved in the stone on each side of the arched entrance. They acted like guardians to the giant building and their frozen stares observing the weary masses lining the steps below. One by one we filed inside through heavy art deco style bronze doors. Cool air caressed my heated cheeks. I had forgotten city hall had been upgraded with air conditioning. Now out of the sun, I didn’t mind the slow progress. I was ushered into a room where a long table had been set up. Three men in crisp business suits sat behind the table. As soon as one man was free the next person in line stepped forward. Finally it was my turn.

Name? the man, who wasn’t much older than me, barked.

Lawrence Cranston, I said and pushed my glasses further up my nose.

Date of birth?

April 13, 1899.

The man set his pencil down and looked across the table at me. You’re too old.

"Please, I’m able bodied. There must be someone I can talk to. Can’t we work around this?’

I’m sorry, but those are the guidelines. Besides, you don’t seem the type that’s used to manual labor. What’s your background, anyway?

I’m an accountant.

Again, I’m sorry, but you’re too old. Just then a man leaning against the wall behind the row of tables straightened up and walked over. Judging by his commanding presence and well-fitted suit, I assumed he was a supervisor. He bent over and whispered something into the ear of the man interviewing me.

Just a minute, my interviewer said and stood up. He walked away with the other man where they conferred in private.

I stayed seated and tapped my fingers on the table top, not taking my eyes off of the two men. A few minutes later the interviewer returned. He actually smiled when he took his seat. I considered this a good sign.

So you’re an accountant? he asked, picking up right where we left off.

Yes sir. I earned my degree at Boston College. I have my own business here, well, I did until recently.

There’s a lot of that going around, he said while scratching the back of his neck with the pencil. He reviewed the form in front of him then considered me again.

I can’t get you on board as a laborer... The man began to shake his head and I knew I only had a few seconds to sway his decision.

Please, I’m a fast learner and great with numbers. Reading the schematics of the blueprints and the measurements will be easy. I held my breath as the man jotted something down on my form, prepared to get down on my knees and beg if that’s what it took.

But, we do need someone with a finance background to oversee payroll and accounts for the job site. His smile was bigger this time. Are you interested?

At first I thought I had misunderstood him and sat there with my eyes squinted in confusion. Fortunately I gathered my wits about me in time to accept before the man could renege on the offer.

I am - thank you!

Sign here and be up in Flagstaff two Mondays from now at 7:00 a.m. sharp. Here’s the location and work detail. He handed me a packet of papers after I signed the bottom of the form. Oh and good luck, he said and shook my hand.

I wanted to rush right home and tell Helen the good news, but I had one final piece of business to attend to. Harold Garfield owed me for work and he had been avoiding me for well over a year. The last time our paths crossed, he ignored me completely. I learned he planned on attending the livestock auction to sell some of his herd. I also knew he wouldn’t be expecting me to show up there. Now that I had a job, getting to Flagstaff was my next concern. If Garfield paid off any of his debt, we’d be able to afford gas for the Ford and some extra food.

A small crowd had gathered, but the frenetic energy that usually accompanied the auction was missing. The odor of manure and of animals kept in close quarters was a potent and suffocating combination, which made my eyes water. Flies buzzed incessantly around my head, the air thick with them and I kept my mouth closed to avoid breathing any in. I spotted Harold’s red face under a wide brimmed, straw colored Stetson. Beads of sweat dripped down from under the brim. With little effort, I maneuvered through to Harold’s side. He was so absorbed in the auction, he didn’t see me approach.

Good morning, Harold.

He jumped when he saw me, causing his double chin to jiggle. Cranston, this is the last place I’d expect to find you. The last word was drawn out with his drawl. Harold had grown up in Texas and moved to Arizona in order to capitalize on the beef opportunity. Up until the depression he had a successful slaughterhouse business and one of the largest herds in the state. He may have lost a lot of things, but he never lost his Texas accent. Judging by his sizeable girth, he didn’t lack food either. He was one of the few to have actually gotten fatter during lean times.

You’re a hard man to track down, I said.

Gotta keep busy, especially now. Tough times, Cranston, very tough times.

Yes, I’m well aware, I responded. Which is why I am here, you still owe me for services and I need the funds.

Cranston, we’ve been over this, remember? You were acting as my financial advisor and you advised me to put my earnings in the bank. The banks were the first to go belly up and all my money was lost; seems to me like you didn’t do your job. Harold’s face changed to a deeper scarlet, white spots dotted the hollows of his cheeks and he emphasized his last point by jabbing a thick forefinger into my chest.

What happened with the banks couldn’t be predicted. How is that my fault? You know I lost all of my money too!

We’re even then, he sneered and turned his attention back to the auction. Harold intimidated me and he knew it, but I needed the money that he owed me.

Harold, we had an agreement and you’re not holding up your end, I said to his back with a steady voice.

The agreement became null and void the moment you lost my money! He thundered and whipped around to face me again. I took a step backwards and bumped into Buck Carrington, one of Harold’s main competitors.

Is Harold giving you a problem Mr. Cranston?

Please, call me Lawrence, and we’re just resolving some unfinished business. I stood up straighter and smoothed down my jacket.

How much does Harold owe you?

Excuse me, Mr. Carrington, I responded and shoved my glasses back up my nose into place, but it really isn’t any of your concern.

Sure is now, I’m thinking about buying out Harold, you see, and need to know if he has any outstanding debts that will come back and bite me in the ass.

I choked on a laugh at Buck’s candor. For a simply dressed and soft spoken man, he sure didn’t mince words.

Harold had cooled down considerably, but he shifted his glare from Buck to look at me with bitter contempt in his bloodshot eyes.

Oh, well in that case, he owes me two hundred dollars. It’s for services rendered in 1928 and ’29.

Harold, you are a stubborn son of a bitch! Carrington said with a shake of his head. He pulled out his wallet, a worn square of leather and counted out some bills. Consider him settled up. He handed me two hundred dollars.

I will Mr. Carrington, thank you. It had been a while since I handled that much money and I quickly placed it in my wallet before too many eyes observed the transaction.

Once you do business with me, you call me Buck. He held out his hand I shook it. It was rough with callouses and his grip firm; a working man’s hand.

Harold, I said and he leered at me. I can’t say it’s been a pleasure doing business with you, but I am sorry for the way everything turned out. Good luck to you.

I turned and walked away, past the pens spilling over with straw and manure, glad to be leaving for fresher air.

There was a spring to my step and the hot walk from the rail station didn’t drag by at the usual pace. This time I had good news to bring home. It seemed our fortunes were changing for the better.

Chapter Four

HELEN! I CALLED AS I ran down the front walk.

The front screen door slammed shut behind her as she came out onto the porch. What is it? What’s wrong?

Nothing! Everything is great! I swept her up and spun her around, planting a kiss on her lips before setting her back down.

Lawrence, what’s come over you? She giggled and pressed against me.

I got a job with the CCC and Garfield settled his debt. Well, Buck Carrington paid it for him, but either way we have cash!

Shhh...the neighbors might hear. She put the tips of two fingers over my mouth.

What neighbors? I joked and kissed her fingertips. The homes on either side of us had been abandoned for over a year.

Stop, you’re terrible, she swatted at me and laughed. Does this mean we’re moving?

Yes, I refuse to leave you and the kids here alone and unprotected. We go on this adventure together.

When?

When I told her we had to be in Flagstaff in two weeks, her eyebrows pinched together causing a deep crease to form in the middle of her forehead.

That doesn’t give us a lot of time to pack. How long will we be up there? We can leave some of our things here and come back.

I took her hands in mine and gave them a gentle squeeze. Helen, we’re not coming back. When we leave, we’re surrendering the house.

What?

Besides people will steal, thinking we’ve abandoned the place.

The place? This is our home, Lawrence. We picked it out, had it built.

There’s something I need to tell you.  Releasing one of her hands, I reached up and caressed her cheek. We were doing okay up until six months ago, but I haven’t paid the mortgage in five months. Either way we’re losing the house.

She opened her mouth to say something, but closed it with a snap. Her usually full lips formed a straight line when she pressed them together.

I’m sorry I didn’t say anything, but you’ve been worried enough. Besides I manage the finances, this was my responsibility.

Her eyes glittered with tears when she turned away from me and I could see she was struggling to keep them in check. She tilted her head back slightly and blinked.

We have a lot to do then, she said finally, her voice rough with emotion. Let’s tell the children.

In a minute; I want to discuss something with you first.

What else haven’t you told me, Lawrence? Her tone was sharp, something I wasn’t used to hearing.

This opportunity in Flagstaff is a good one and I’ll be making a dollar more an hour than the laborers. I think we should save as much as we can and move back East.

This was something I knew Helen wanted more than keeping our house. Adjusting to Phoenix had been difficult for her. While the climate was supposed to be good for her asthma, she missed the bustling streets of Boston and damp, foggy days. Her jaw softened and she let the tears spill.

Oh Lawrence, don’t kid!

I’m not.

But...what about my asthma?

We’ll figure something out. Father has made great progress with his research. When the economy went south, it made me realize just how far away we are from our families.

I know. It’s been so hard these past few years. Are you serious? Because if you’re not I’ll be so mad at you!

I laughed when she playfully swatted at my chest again and drew her towards me for a kiss. I cupped her face in my hands and said, I’m serious, before lowering my lips to hers. While they were pressed together I felt her smile. At that moment I was so thankful for what we lacked in material possessions, we more than compensated for with our love.

We stood in the middle of the kitchen, our arms wrapped loosely around each other, Helen’s head on my shoulder, Sara and Teddy’s giggles drifting up from the basement. We had come close to losing everything and I vowed to keep our family together.

Are you hungry? Helen murmured into the collar of my suit jacket.

They had already eaten lunch, but I was famished and Helen set a hardboiled egg, a slice of toast and an orange at my place setting. She called the children upstairs and we filled them in on the news while I ate.

Their reaction was a mixture of sadness, resignation and a little bit of excitement. I’m glad that Helen and I had prepared them for the possibility of moving. Helen started making a list of what needed to be done before our departure. We were busy discussing when someone knocked on the front door.

Lawrence? A male voice called through the screen door.

I set my napkin on the table and stood up. Helen had already left to let our guest in. She walked into the kitchen with John Keeley following close behind.

He has our horse?

Right! In all of the excitement I forgot you were bringing one by.

I shook John’s hand and we went out front. The mare, Sally, chewed on a clump of dried grass and regarded me with large brown eyes. She had begun to turn gray around her mouth and some of her ribs were showing under her taut skin, but overall she appeared to be fairly healthy.

Sorry I can’t do more for you Lawrence.

I understand. Are you going to Flagstaff too?

Nope, too old. Thought I’d give it a try, but I couldn’t fool them. He smiled and his eyes disappeared into thick wrinkles. With his white hair and leathery skin, he didn’t look a day under sixty and I wasn’t surprised he had been turned away.

Well, best of luck to you and Katherine. We have to be up there in two weeks.

Good luck to you and your family. I’m glad things are working out for you, John said as he hoisted himself up on another horse, a tall black one with a glossy coat and not a single rib showing. He tipped his straw cowboy hat at me and I waved farewell as he trotted down the street.

Sara and Teddy bounded out of the house to inspect Sally. She chewed and stared, not fazed at all by the tiny hands patting her sides. She bumped her nose into Teddy’s thick brown hair and exhaled. He laughed and twitched his shoulder up to scratch his ear. Sara jumped up and down.

Can I ride her, Daddy?

No sweetheart, she seems to be hungry plus we don’t have a saddle your size. You can help me bring her into the backyard though.

Both Teddy and Sara grabbed her bridle, led her up the gravel driveway and around to the backyard. I opened the gate and closed it securely behind as soon as Sally was through.

She took to the garden like a fish to water and was soon munching on carrot greens.

Gee, she is really hungry, Teddy commented.

I feared for the garden, but we weren’t going to be there much longer. What we were going to do with Sally presented another issue.

We could sell her, Helen suggested when we lay in bed later that night. Even with the fan it was too hot to sleep, plus both of us were feeling the burden of the move.

I thought of that, but before actually seeing Sally. The only reason someone will buy an old horse like her is for food or glue and I can’t do that, besides the children are already attached.

I don’t think they’re the only ones, she said and nudged my side with her elbow. We can’t afford to take her with us.

I know. Let’s see what this week brings. I’ll ask around.

Okay, she kissed my cheek and rolled over. A few minutes later her steady, soft breathing filled the room. I always envied her ability to fall asleep so easily. I spent the next couple of hours staring at the ceiling, willing sleep to come.

At some point in the middle of the night, Helen sought me out and I awoke to her body pressed against mine as she placed soft kisses along my jawline. Turning my head, I captured her lips, drawing her into a deep kiss. She sighed and pressed closer. Rolling her onto her back, I bunched her nightgown up around her hips and settled between her legs as she pulled down my pajama bottoms. I entered her and she let out a faint gasp, her nails biting into the skin on my shoulders. Wordlessly, we moved together. Helen tilted her head to kiss me again and that’s when I saw tears glistening in the moonlight.

Shhh, my love, we’re going to be fine, I whispered to her and she closed her eyes before arching against me, a smile curling up her lips. She must have needed our connection and I didn’t realize how badly I did too until we lay there afterwards, drowsy and satisfied, on sweat dampened sheets.

The next morning I woke up perspiring. The familiar whir of our fan was missing. Helen was already out of bed and I wandered down the hall to the kitchen. She was sitting at the table, the crease between her eyebrows had returned.

What’s wrong?

The electricity has been shut off. I can’t even percolate coffee on the stove.

Damn it! I thought we’d have more time. I’ll go downtown and pay our bill using some of the money from Garfield.

Sally practically decimated the garden overnight. She needs feed and we need food.

Okay, let’s all go. You can buy groceries while I take care of the bill.

The prospect of getting out of the house cheered Helen and she went to get ready. I took a cold shower, indoor plumbing being one of the modern conveniences we included when we had our house built and quickly got dressed.

Helen and the children were piled into the car. I slid into the driver’s seat, engaged the hand brake, turned the key to battery in the ignition, and stepped on the starter, but the engine didn’t start, just clicked. I tried again, checking the choke and the throttle, and still nothing happened. I didn’t know anything mechanically about cars, but assumed that it didn’t even have enough gas to turn over the engine.

I smacked the palms of my hands against the steering wheel and turned to Helen.

Sorry, I’m going to have to find a gas station.

I understand, she said and stepped out of the car. Come on kiddos. She held her door open so Teddy and Sara could scurry out from the backseat.

It took ten minutes to walk to the light rail line and another twenty for a trolley to arrive. Fortunately, the rail line ran along Central and a Texaco was