Green

Corn. Miles of corn stretched out as far as can be. Green stalks. Baby corn, not yet matured, not ready to harvest. Come August there’ll be sweet corn. You can buy it on the side of the roads. Farmers placing them in wooden baskets along with squash, watermelons, onions, radishes, cucumbers. Families will go on Sunday drives and stop at these stands. Parents will tell stories of how they grew up in Indiana, Iowa, Ohio, Illinois, and looked forward to corn field mazes, crisp apples, pumpkin carving, hay rides. They will tell these stories to their kids and their kid’s kids. But, right now it’s just green corn.

He drove over the sate line. Some back road that was dusty from the gravel. It was evening time. He had nowhere to go, nowhere to be. Just him and his pick- up truck with a body in the back. Some young woman he picked up at a truck stop outside of Indianapolis. She had pretty blonde hair and a way about her. Might have been the whiskey that made her so flirtatious. Maybe it was the joint she smoked out in the parking lot. Something made her walk his way. Something.

The old man sat at the counter drinking a cup of coffee. Buck Owens played on the speakers. Singing about the streets of Bakersfield. He sang along with it. You don’t know me you don’t like me. Say you care less how I feel, he sang in between puffs on a Kool. How many of you sit and judge me. And walk the streets of Bakersfield, he then hummed along to the harmonica.

She sat in the middle of the old man and a young man who looked like her dad in pictures when he was younger. Jet black hair real wavy. A strong jaw line. Green eyes. The young lady ordered a Coke and the young man paid for it. She was impressed with his kindness. The old man looked on.

Where you from? she asked. He told her Chicago. That’s a big city, the kid said. What’re you doing here? You gotta load you’re pulling? he shook his head. Well what’re you doing then?

The young man smiled. I’m just hanging out. Truck stops have the best food and the best coffee, he said. I’d rather eat here than at some McDonald’s, she laughed and said true that.

They kept making eyes at each other while the old man kept singing along to a whispering Bill Anderson song. The young man excused himself. Said he’d be right back as he slithered back to the bathroom. She said she’d be waiting. He seemed exciting to her. Like something could happen at any second.

Hey, the old man said. I’d think twice if I was you. He’s up to no good.

You’re just jealous.

I’m just saying.

Well don’t, she then sucked her Coke through straw until it squeaked. She looked at the young man as he walked towards her. He looked like her savior.

Wanna go for a ride? she nodded, yes. The old man looked at her again. Don’t do it, was the look he gave her. She just smiled and stuck her tongue out.

Green corn. All they could see was green corn. He kissed her. And, she kissed him. He placed his hands on her shoulders and moved them to her neck in a slow fashion.

She said I love you as he twisted just a bit. I love you….He didn’t say a word. Just placed her body in the back of his truck and took off.

A farmer found the body. It was blue. And, his fields were green. Soon he would harvest.

Published by:

dmseay

The writing is based on my surroundings and what I've been surrounded by. This language is coarse and politically incorrect; which I make no apologies for. These characters are not nice and to use any other dialogue would be disingenuine. That being said, I choose to roll the dice. dm seay

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