On Emma's Bluff by Sara Elizabeth Rice, edited by davebccanada (comprehension books txt) 📖

"There is just something about a Sonic Chili Cheeseburger when you are zonked out of your mind," Cindy chuckled lovingly to the dripping sandwich in front of her.

"Oh yes, I sooo agree," Emma drawled in response.   She wrestled the chili cheeseburger to her lips.

Cindy chewed her food big and wide to one side of her mouth, and spoke out the other, "The best dang frigging thing I ever tasted."

This broke them both into hysterics, sputtering out flecks of burger as they tried to chew, swallow and laugh at the same time.

"I bet."   Emma sprayed back at Cindy.

"Don't even go there."   Cindy choked even more as she gulped soda from her straw. "I don't want to know."

"I don't want to tell you."

The girls struggled with the few napkins they could find to wipe their mouths and eyes. In the jeep under the yellow drive-in lights they could feel a nip of chill in the air. They each leaned against their doors, facing each other, their feet propped up in the space between their seats.   Emma's short-legged jeans left a wide gap of ankle showing down to her white socks and loafers.

"Ummm me, I like those white socks." Cindy wagged her head slowing while observing the white tube socks.

"Oh shuddup, they are my basketball socks."

"I didn't know you played basketball?"

"I don't. I absolutely suck at it."

"Well there you go again." They just both gave up and threw their heads back and roared like banshees.

____________________________________________

Emma had spent the best part of the weekend in Cindy's company. It was a weekend of monopoly, videos, junk food and too many joints. Emma, who, just a few months earlier had never even been in the same room where illegal drugs were being used, found herself afloat in a new giddiness. The pot was keeping her mind off of Bill and Joy. "Thank God," she thought. But her mind was also oblivious to the strange events that had started.

If Emma had heard of the brutal death of Lucille May, she had quickly forgotten it. Likewise neither Cindy nor Emma seemed more than slightly disturbed by the identification of the charred body found in the ruins of the old feed shed.   Emma had heard the grief in her uncle's voice when he had called to tell her that Eddy was dead, but in her own mind it was like some dream.   She did not let her thoughts linger on the implications of all these deaths. And all thoughts of Viola Grace seem to have been swept from her mind.

The following Friday night Cindy and Emma had set off for the town of Rolling Fork. Emma once again planned to spend the night at Cindy's after the game so she was feeling carefree and didn't mind throwing all precautions to the wind.

"Do I have something on my nose?" Cindy blinked cross-eyed at Emma.

"Yeah, looks like chili cheese."

Cindy rubbed across her nose with the palm of her hand. "Hey, Emma, are you going to dress up for the carnival this year?"

"No," Emma responded dryly. "I am going nude this year."

"You jerk, you know what I mean. Are you going to wear a costume?"

"Oh geez, I haven't worn a costume since I quit trick-or-treating."

"You quit?" Cindy said in a faked awe, "That's not what I heard. But any way I think we should definitely wear costumes this year."

"Oh yeah." Emma raised her brows. "And what exactly do you think we should go as?"

"Well if we were joined at the hip we could go as Bill and Joy." Cindy found this to be particularly funny.   They had avoided the subject all week.

"Oh forget you."  Emma was not laughing.

"Oh Em, I was joking." She placed her hand on her girlfriend's shoulder. "I thought you had finally gotten over all that."

"Yeah sure, love em and leave em, that's me. I mean I almost asked ‘Bill’ who."

"Oh good then you won't mind who is headed over our way."

Emma looked out her window to see Bill's long legs making easy distance between his Mustang and the Jeep.

"Oh shit, not now."   Emma slumped low in her seat.

"Hi, girls," Bill mouthed through the glass window. "Hey Emma, you
want to unlock your door or what?"

"Tell him I am not here." Emma said gazing solidly out the front windshield.

"Em, I think he can see you."

"Emma, open the door, please," He urged her.

"I think she wants you to go away."   Cindy had lowered her window a crack to yell out.

"Oh yeah?" Bill was not phased. He walked to Cindy's side of the Jeep. "So how about it Cindy, are you gonna let me in?"

"Sorry, I just had the inside fumigated last week."

"Cin, not you too. It's cold out here and I just want to talk."

Cindy looked at Emma for a cue as to what she should do next. Emma just remained frozen. Cindy gave up and unlocked her door.

"Thank you." Bill scooted into the back seat. He leaned up till his head was sticking between the two girls in the front seats. "So, what's happening?"

"Until you intruded we were just having a little girl talk."

"So why have you been ignoring me all week, Emma?" Bill disregarded Cindy and turned toward the stiff Emma.

"I didn't notice that I had been," she said through clenched teeth.

"Oooh, such tension." He raised his hand to stroke the back of her neck. She leaned forward away from his touch.

"Talk to her, Cindy. Ask her why she hates me?"

"No one really needs a good reason to hate you, Simmons." Cindy spoke with fake sincerity.

"No seriously." Bill turned back toward Emma. "Did you have such a bad time when we went out?"

"So where are you keeping Joy tonight?" Emma finally spoke sharply.

"I see, jealous, huh?" A broad satisfied grin crossed his face as he said this.

"Wait just a minute, dude!" Emma turned red in embarrassment and rage.

"You should have told me that you minded that I date Joy," he interrupted.

"I could care less." Emma tried to toss her head in a reckless fashion, but she only appeared more defensive.

"You sure act jealous." he shot back at her.

"Whoa Nelly, hang on Bill." Cindy raised her hands to stop the words. "She's just not interested so leave her alone."

"Sure, Sure." He eased back. "So what do you girls feel like doing after the game tonight?"

"We want to be alone." Cindy tried for the old movie star line.

"A building does not have to fall on me. Here let me out. I just saw you two over here and I thought well, oh never mind." Cindy opened her door and he wedged himself back out of the back seat. "And Emma," he stopped and turned to say, "I will be calling you."

"Bullshit, I heard that line before," Emma said almost under her breath.

Bill had been happy and a little more than pleased when he had spotted Emma in the jeep with Cindy. Joy had gone to a baby shower for one of her aunts and wasn't supposed to even be home before ten o'clock. He had told her he might stop by after the game, but when he had seen Emma he figured old Joy girl could wait. Yeah well, but the little tease hadn't seemed too happy to see him so he reckoned it was her loss. "She's just too serious for me," he thought as he turned up Joy's driveway.

He saw that the living room lamp was still on. Someone was still up. He hoped it was just Joy and not her folks. He straightened himself in his pants as he headed toward the front door.

Roy Wilson sat on his back porch like he had begun to do so often after the first murders. He sat there and he tried to think. He knew what the talk was in town; that it had been Eddy who had killed them two teenagers and someone had executed a little vigilante payback on Eddy. But then none could really explain away Lucille's horrible death. Had she died before Eddy? Maybe she had been killed trying to protect her man? None of it really made good sense to Roy.

His first problem was that Roy knew Eddy just about as well as one could know such a man. "Eddy would have never killed them chilrin," Roy kept saying to himself. "Not unless something real strange and foul had taken over Eddy and forced him to do something so out of character" It was to that thought that Roy kept returning. Either Eddy had been totally out of his mind when he killed or someone else all together had done the killing. Both options left Roy unable to sleep. "Sumpin's out there," he told himself studying the night sky, sure as rain sumpin is."

Roy twisted in his seat. His ears picked up the sounds of Liz'beth moving around in their bedroom. He heard their closet door and imagined her reaching inside to find her heavy chenille robe. Shortly she was standing before him on the back porch.

"Roy, you sit out here a lot," she started, "you ever see or hear anything that gives you pause?"

"Not much, baby." He reached up to take her hand. He felt as much love for her even after all of their years together as he had from the very beginning. "I am glad you came out here to join me momma."   He patted his thigh to offer her a seat.

"Now Roy Wilson, you know I done got too big to sit in your lap no more." Her spreading backside and his bulging middle didn't leave much room.

"Oh, just try Liz. I want to hold you in my lap."

With a girlish giggle she just managed to squeeze onto a spot of his knee. "Roy Wilson, you old dog," she said as she turned and he planted a kiss firmly on her face.

"You still my "little woman, Liz'beth."

"Roy," she turned serious, "when we ever gonna feel really safe again?"

"It's only been two weeks, honey."

"I know, but everything just seems so unreal. And you know what they been saying about Eddy, our Eddy!"

"Yeah, but I am not sure I buy a word of all them rumors. Just don't seem to add up to me."

"When you gonna be able to sleep regular like again?"   She broached the real subject that was alarming her. She knew he had even taken the shotgun down from the closet and she suspected it was somewhere close at hand out here on the back porch. Liz had never seen her husband truly afraid before.

"Oh just a bit restless I guess," he tried to diffuse the issue, "ain’t nothing to worry about."

"I know Roy, but you know how I worry."

Indeed he did know all about her worrying. Twenty-four years together had taught him a lot about that. He had learned what subject to avoid and what subjects to just never tell her about. He figured that was his job.

"I love you Elizabeth Becker Wilson. You want to be my wife?"

"You old fool," she giggled.

A little less than a mile into the woods behind the Wilson's home a small fire brightened a clearing. The fire had been laid out carefully in the center of a circle of smooth stones. Each stone had been hauled from the muddy bottom of the Sunflower River. Fallen tree trunks had been laid around outside of the ring of fire to fashion a crude amphitheatre. Huddled over one of the closer logs was a grisly sight. The wasted form of Viola Grace stretched out its hands to the fire. This night she no longer carried any semblance of humanity. Her destroyed flesh stank and glistened with mold. Deep gurgling, raspy sounds came as if breaths from within her.

She moved in a slow swaying motion as she circled the fire. She squatted on the far side and looked into the trees. Indefinable words bubbled from her open throat. Her face remained a mask. She did not even flinch