The Unrelenting

By Susan Peltier and David Fontenette

Something caught her eye, and she turned to see the silhouette of a man standing at the corner of the house, observing her. The man was tall, with broad shoulders, dressed in a dark coat that concealed most of his features. Emily froze, her heart hammering in her chest. The man neither spoke nor moved. He

• Language: English
• Publisher: Susan Peltier
• Release date: Aug 20, 2023
• ISBN: 9781088267288

Book preview

The Unrelenting - Written by Susan Peltier

The Unrelenting

WRITTEN BY SUSAN PELTIER

CONTRIBUTIONS BY ELI ALLEN AND DAVID FONTENETTE

EDITED BY JEREMY HERMAN

© COPYRIGHT SUSAN PELTIER 2023

Anything that’s human is mentionable, and anything that is mentionable can be more manageable. When we can talk about our feelings, they become less overwhelming, less upsetting, and less scary. The people we trust with that important talk can help us know that we are not alone.

― Fred Rogers

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

The Unrelenting

At the heart of the Midwest, tucked away in a forest on the edge of the Oregon Trail is a neighborhood. The roads are lined with maple trees and shaded by willows. Surrounded by apple orchards, the smell of nostalgia blankets the streets with sweet nostalgia. The sidewalks snake past the houses, covered in chalk, as children play hopscotch and jump rope. Their happy giggles echoed in the warm air.

Emily, come on, it's time to come inside! Scott's voice carried from the doorway.

Emily hopped on one foot, quickly finishing the hopscotch pattern. Just a second.

Scott shook his head. Mom said it's time to get ready for dinner. Hurry up.

Emily sighed, Okay, I'm coming! With a final jump, she landed outside the hopscotch court and ran toward the house, leaving the chalked squares behind.

Each night, just before dark, the thunderous toll of the old cast iron bell rings to signal the end of the day. Children and families from all over the neighborhood head home for supper. It had been a gift to Emily’s father, Jack. He had received it as a relic from his grandfather’s farm and ringing it had become a neighborhood routine. Nearly every night Emily and Scott would argue over whose turn it was to ring the bell.

Scott, it's my turn tonight! Emily insisted, folding her arms.

Scott crossed his arms too. No, it’s mine.

As their debate continued, the sky turned shades of pink and orange, casting a warm glow over the scene. Just as their voices grew more animated, their mother, Alexandra, stepped outside.

Hey, you two, she called out, her voice carrying a calm tone.

Both Emily and Scott turned to face her, their argument momentarily forgotten.

She walked over to them, the soft evening breeze playing with her hair. Stop bellyaching, you two, and come on inside. It's time for supper. And lower your voice. The neighbors don’t want to hear you argue.

The kids exchanged looks, realizing that their argument had been overheard.

Okay, Mom, Emily said, her voice a little quieter.

Scott nodded in agreement. Yeah, we're coming. Then he grabbed the rope and rang the bell.

Annoyed, Emily shot him a nasty glare as he ran into the house. 

Emily's parents, Jack and Alexandra, brought warmth to their community. Jack, a well-respected businessman, often chatted with locals at nearby shops. His laughter filled the room as he shared tales from his ventures, earning admiration from those who listened. Alexandra was the heart of their community, tirelessly organizing events and cheering the loudest at little league football games.

Their enthusiasm for life touched everyone. They embraced their town's routines. Jack spent many mornings fishing by the river with the neighborhood men. Alexandra enjoyed hosting dinner parties, where they chatted and enjoyed good food. Simple pleasures like playing music and spending time with friends made them happy. Weekends were a time for local activities such as bonfires and parades. Their vintage horse and carriage always added a touch of charm.

During dinner parties, Alexandra's laughter blended with the clinking of cutlery and friends' conversations. She poured drinks, shared stories, and her eyes sparkled with sincerity. Jack was an exceptional host, sharing stories and making each guest feel like part of the family.

When the urge to get out of the house arose, they didn't need to go far. Their adventures often led them to scenic towns and natural landmarks in their camper van. Alexandra meticulously marked points of interest on a map as they planned their impromptu trips. They visited their family and discovered new places to go camping. Sometimes, they simply wanted to enjoy a change of landscape and would drive until they were tired. At the end of each excursion, they were ready to come home and get back to their routines.

Their home held countless stories and memories. It was a two-story contemporary home with a large backyard, surrounded by a chain link fence. Scott and Emily spend hours in the backyard playing on the swing set or tossing a ball back and forth for their dog, Rufus. However, the heart of their home was the kitchen. Although the kitchen was small, there was a table large enough to seat all of them. Any time of the day or evening, you could find someone there. On the corner of the kitchen counter was a small black and white television with a wire coat hanger for an antenna and a pair of lock pliers on the dial so they could change the channel. This room was the center of every important discussion or decision. At this table, they laughed, argued, and cried.

After school, Alexandra would make dinner while Emily and Scott watched the television or played a game at the table. The smell of pot roast would fill the house, making everyone’s stomach grumble.

When is Dad getting home? asked Scott.

I’m not sure, soon I hope, said Alexandra wistfully.

It’s your turn, Scott. Play. Emily chided him.

Hold your horses, he said, as he laid down his cards. GIN!

Emily shrugged. Let’s play again. 

When their father was home, it was a different routine. Jack read from the newspaper, sharing his insights, while Alexandra sipped her coffee and added witty remarks that elicited chuckles from Emily and Scott. In some ways, their life unfolded like a well-loved storybook, with every page filled with moments of togetherness. From a homemade breakfast in the warm kitchen to leisurely Sunday picnics at the local park or quiet evenings spent sharing stories on the porch. In these moments, they loved spending time together.

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Engrossed in a vivid daydream, Emily perched on a worn-out rug, her fingers clutching colored pencils. A jumble of discarded toys, strewn clothes, and crumpled papers littered her surroundings. Sunlight seeped through the hand-sewn curtains and cast a dappled pattern of shadows across her floor.

Emily worked furiously, breathing life into an otherworldly landscape. Every careful stroke of her pencils deepened the world taking shape on the paper. Emerald and sapphire trees, both in her imagination and the drawing, shimmered in the sunlight, their leaves rustling like hushed whispers. They towered over bodies of opalescent water, casting brilliant reflections. Riotous blooms sprouted around these