c. 2026 Rod Ice
All rights reserved
(10-26)
Linn Speck had been abandoned by his wife during previous bouts of martial conflict. Yet this time, it seemed that perhaps their marriage was finally at an end. The tone of his romantic partner had turned particularly sharp and judgmental, something he could not remember happening before. And on this occasion, she did not indicate going to stay with members of her family. Instead, whatever plans she had in mind were more mysterious and difficult to fathom. She had been loving and cheerful for so long, that the thought of a permanent separation never entered his mind. But now, he had a sense of dread when anticipating her next move.
Still, he could not think that any woman would willingly abandon a partnership with someone like himself. He was in every way, at least in his own mind, an example of American manhood that a single female might seek out as a trophy. Though his physique had matured from its primal form, with rolls of skin hanging under his jowls, and a balding dome atop his skull, he felt fine and fit for his age. Able to meet any challenge when it arrived.
This mood of confidence and superiority began to blur, as he sat at the kitchen table, while a 30-pack of Milwaukee’s Best Premium chilled in his refrigerator. With each fresh round of brew, he lagged farther behind the chronological curve. Feeling more mellow and subdued, despite the perplexing situation into which he had fallen. His eyesight went out of focus. He slumped in the chair, with both arms dangling at his sides.
Then, he began to snore loudly.
While unconscious, he breathed the scent of a sulfur plume, which filled the room with smoke. From the center of that pungent void, a ghostly apparition emerged, boasting freakish eyes, long nails that glowed with tips of fire, and a hot presence of feminine rage. Esmeralda Jonovic, the dead militia queen who had once lived at Evergreen Estates, spoke with a shrill shriek of displeasure that rattled the windows. Normally, she had only visited her former neighbor, the reclusive drunk who had been expelled from their trailer village. But now, her rise had a purpose renewed by the secretive strike at Lot 13.
“YA FAT PIECE OF SHIT! ARE Y’ALL JUST GONNA SIT HERE AND GET MESSED UP ON THAT CHEAP PISS, INSTEAD OF GOIN’ TO THE SHERIFF, AND ADMITTIN’ YER GUILT?”
Linn was lost in the dark realm of purgatory. But able to plead his case even from the crest of oblivion.
“Guilt? Who the heck are you, and
what does that mean?”
The surging phantasm hovered over his slumbering figure, and cackled.
“LINK, THAT GUY UP THE STREET! HE WAS A FRIEND OF MINE Y’ALL MIGHT SAY, YEARS AGO. BUT YA RAN HIS ASS OUTTA HERE BY SETTIN’ FIRE TO HIS GAWDAMN SHACK! AND THEN PISSED ON THE ASHES! WHAT KIND OF NO-BALLS WIMP DOES SOMETHIN’ LIKE THAT?”
Her target shook and slobbered while still unable to react directly.
“Fire? I don’t know what you mean, lady! If you were a friend of that old drunk, then you know what a dirty, ugly waste of humanity he was. An eyesore to behold. I’ll bet he hadn’t taken a bath in months or years!”
Jonovic spread her claws angrily, mimicking a feral cat.
“THAT DUDE WAS DIFFERENT, I’LL ADMIT IT. BUT BY GAWD, HE HAD SOME STONES! WHICH IS MORE THAN I CAN SAY FER YER SORRY ASS! Y’ALL HAVE BEEN SNEAKIN’ AROUND THIS PARK FER YEARS, TRYIN’ TO STIR UP A MESS. ALWAYS LETTIN’ FOLKS LIKE MY LIEUTENANT, AIMES HEFTI, TAKE THE HEAT. NEVER BUCKIN’ UP AND SHOWIN’ SOME BACKBONE. THAT’S A EUNUCH WAY TO GO ABOUT LIFE! Y’ALL CAN TALK A LOT OF CRAP, BUT CAN’T BACK IT UP!”
Linn floundered on the kitchen table, in attempt to wake himself. But his eyes remain closed.
“I don’t deserve that kind of talk, whoever you are! I’ve been a good husband and father, and member of the church up on our township square! That ought to count for a lot, especially in a dump like this! People of my reputation matter! We keep things on the straight and narrow! We are the reason that this nation can be great again!”
The lifeless militia leader threw back her head, and let out a steamy guffaw of defiance.
“YER A SLIMY DEVIL, MR. SPECK! BUT DID YA REALLY THINK THAT ANYBODY HERE EVER TOOK YA SERIOUSLY? YER SWEETHEART JUST PUT THAT RUMOR TO REST! SHE GOT FED UP WITH YER BULLSHIT, JUST LIKE T. C. LINCOLN DID! HOW ABOUT THAT!”
The failed association king sputtered and salivated in his sleep.
“Don’t ever compare my spouse with that ornery rascal! Getting rid of him was like taking out the trash! It needed to be done! And I am glad it was done!”
The undead, extremist advocate squealed with delight. Her face glowed in a shade of bright red.
“IS THAT A DAMN CONFESSION, FAT BOY? IT SOUNDED LIKE ONE TO ME!”
Her victim shook fearfully, while struggling to regain consciousness.
“Not at all! Not at all! I am not admitting anything, to you or anyone else!”
Jonovic drew nearer to the mortal instigator, until her acrid breath stung his flesh.
“WHEN YER ON THE OTHER SIDE, Y’ALL CAN SEE THINGS AND HEAR THINGS, GAWDAMNIT! I KNOW YA SCREWED OVER MY FRIEND. I KNOW YA SET FIRE TO HIS SINGLEWIDE. I KNOW YA LIED ABOUT IT, AND COVERED SHIT UP. I KNOW YER TOO MUCH OF A COWARD TO OWN UP TO THAT FRIGGIN’ MISTAKE! BUT TRUST ME, THERE’LL BE A RECKONIN’ SOMEDAY! DON’T DOUBT IT, ASSHOLE! DON’T EVER DOUBT IT! YER FATE IS ALREADY SEALED!”
Linn had turned sweaty in the moment. He fell out of his chair, and landed on the linoleum floor with a painful thud. This violent impact freed him from the mysterious spell, at last. His kitchen cleared quickly, with only a faint trace of sulfur left in the air. It took a minute to gather his thoughts, and stand upright once again. His face tingled with fiery reside from the fantastic appearance he had witnessed. Yet he could not be certain that anything he saw was literally real.
One can of the budget brew remained in his fridge. He opened it in hurry, and let the foamy contents stream down his chin. This was his first day of living alone at the rural community. But he hoped that despite being a suspect for fellow residents, the sheriff’s deputies, and otherworldly spirits, it would not be his last.
