This story is by Aaron Delaine and was part of our 2022 Spring Writing Contest. You can find all the writing contest stories here.
I was already awake as the sun was coming up. I heard our old faithful rooster, Chester, begin his morning song to wake up the rest of the farm. I turned over to see if Pa was awake yet and saw those familiar hazel eyes and that smile that still melts my heart.
“Good morning Babe.” he said with a smile. “Did you sleep well?”
“Good morning my Love.” Leaning over to kiss him I said, “Yes, of course.”
He grinned as he reached over to embrace me. “I thought you did. You were snoring before I could get settled last night.”
“Ladies don’t snore.” I said with a chuckle.
He grinned back at me. “Whatever you say, Ma.”
I slapped his shoulder playfully. “You’re so mean to me.”
“After fifty years of marriage, you should be used to it.” he said with a devilish grin.
I wanted to stick out my bottom lip and look pitiful, but all I could do was smile at him. “You’re my happily ever after.”
Pa’s eyes twinkled in the morning sunlight.
I rolled out of bed and put on my housecoat. The wood floor was chilly on my bare feet, so I slipped into my fuzzy yellow house shoes. Autumn was in full swing and the mornings had been cool and crisp for the last couple of weeks.
“What do you want for breakfast?” I asked.
“Steak and eggs, biscuits and gravy, of course!” Pa said with a smile as he sat up in bed and threw off the covers. That’s a little game we played every morning. I asked the same question and he always answered the same way. Then I fixed what we had on hand. That day it would be eggs, beef jerky and some peach preserves I made during the summer.
As I made my way into the kitchen, the sun was just peeking over the hill to the east. I looked out the window to see the chickens pecking around in the side yard, scratching for their breakfast. Our last couple of cows were out in the pasture by the pond.
There was a light mist hanging over the pond that I knew would burn off when the sun cleared the hill. I remembered back to the days we used to go to the movie theater. There was a show where a strange mist fell over a small community and monsters came out of it, terrorizing the town. After that, whenever we would see fog, one of us would say, “There’s something in the mist!” and we’d laugh.
We don’t joke about that anymore.
Over breakfast, we talked about the daily chores. The fence on the north side of the pasture needed mending, the fall garden needed mulching before colder weather set in and we needed more firewood.
Not being as young as we used to be, it took us a little longer to get things done, but we managed. Pa took some eggs out for Shadow and gathered the tools and the wagon from the barn while I cleaned up the kitchen and dressed for the day’s work.
Shadow was a good dog, an Australian Shepherd that could still herd the cows even though she’s getting older too.
The morning passed quickly as we mended the fence and gathered wood. We enjoyed our time together, like we always did. Just the two of us.
I had thrown a blanket along with a small lunch bag in the wagon as we headed out. We sat out on a grassy knoll in the warm sunshine and ate our lunch. I brought a bone for Shadow that was left over from the last deer Pa had killed. She happily chewed on it while listening to our conversation.
After lunch, the birds sang us a lullaby and we took a short nap cuddled up together. It was wonderful…until we were awakened by a deep growl from Shadow. We sat up quickly and scanned the area. Something must have been close because Shadow’s fur was bristling. She was staring off into the woods towards the far side of the knoll.
Pa slowly rose, reached into the wagon and grabbed the rifle. I pulled Shadow close to me, the fingers of one hand buried in her coal black fur. I stroked her neck with the other, whispering for her to be quiet. She stopped growling, but kept her eyes fixed on the trees. Pa shouldered the rifle and used the scope to survey the tree line.
“Do you see anything?” I whispered.
“No movement.” he answered quietly. “We should head back home.”
I gathered up the blanket and the remainder of our lunch while Pa kept his eye on the trees. Once I had the wagon packed, Pa handed me the rifle, grabbed the wagon handle and we began our walk back to the house as quietly and quickly as we could.
Once we were a few hundred yards away from the knoll, Shadow began acting like herself again and we knew we were out of harm’s way. That dog had come in handy on more than one occasion.
“That was close.” I said.
“Too close,” he replied. “Thankfully, the fence is mended and we have enough firewood.”
I could tell Pa was shaken. He was still glancing over his shoulder every so often. That was the first time in a long time we had been close to one of the Others.
We unloaded the wagon, stacking the firewood alongside what we’d already gathered for the winter. There was plenty to keep us warm when the snow fell. After that we worked in the garden, mulching the beds for cold weather. Every so often, Pa would stop and gaze in every direction. He was still worried. Honestly, so was I, but working in the garden dirt was always comforting to me. The garden looked good. We would have enough food for the winter.
Pa pulled the wagon into the barn and stored the garden tools while I fixed supper. Tonight would be a special treat. My hand churned butter would spread nicely on the bread I made from the wild wheat we found in the south pasture.
I’d never seen any wheat in that pasture before, but we were thankful to find it. There was enough to make a few small loaves and still have some seed to sow in our garden next Spring. Tonight we would enjoy a slice along with some dried apples and deer jerky. A few eggs would round out our feast!
After supper, we went out to the front porch and sat in our rocking chairs with Shadow lying curled up between us. The sun was sinking in the west and a chill was in the air. Even though Autumn was only a few weeks old, I could tell winter was coming. I could feel it in my bones.
As we sat there holding hands and rocking, we held our guns in our laps. Pa had his rifle and I had my shotgun. Normally, they would be leaned up against the porch railing, but with our encounter this afternoon, we were a little on edge. There could be Others close by.
I could tell Pa was still a little nervous and needed a distraction.
“Remember pizza?” I asked.
“Remember it? How could I forget it?” he replied, licking his lips. “I can still remember the taste of a thin crust pepperoni pizza! Sure could use a slice right now.”
Before I could answer, Shadow sprang to her feet, bared her teeth and began the low growling we recognized as a danger signal. Clutching our guns tightly, we looked in the direction Shadow was fixated on. That’s when we saw him at the end of the driveway.
It was our neighbor, Paul Jenkins. Those moss green coveralls he always wore were a dead giveaway. Pa waved to him, but he didn’t respond. That’s when the smell overtook us. The smell of death.
Even though it looked like Paul, it wasn’t him anymore. We could tell it was one of the Others by the way it walked. The Others had a slow, awkward gait, as if they couldn’t control their body. That or they’re drunk as a skunk…and they smelled as bad as one too.
“What are we gonna do?” I asked Pa.
He sighed sorrowfully. “What we always do.” He raised the rifle, peering through the scope. “Take it down.” A quick pull of the trigger and the Other collapsed in a heap on the driveway.
“If we still had electricity, we could bury it tonight.” I lamented.
Pa squinted at the setting sun. “Haven’t had that for a long time. It’s OK. We’ll take care of it in the morning.”
I looked at Pa lovingly, “No one I’d rather face the end of the world with than you.”
He took me by the hand and in the fading light, grinned back at me. “You’re my happily ever after.”
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