Harvey Loved (1)
A desperate search. A mysterious past. And a lurking darkness threatening to destroy everything.
Tucker Selman watched with keen interest as a shiny new SUV chugged quickly down the gravel road some miles away. It kicked up huge plumes of dust behind it, which would've been easily avoided if the car had been moving slowly.
These people weren't just your average self-respecting Kirk County people.
It was obvious to Tucker that the SUV must belong to some new city slickers. As it disappeared around the bend, and the only thing left to indicate that it had ever existed were huge clouds of dust swirling around in the sweltering heat, Tucker dismissed the scene. As he turned to hop aboard his tractor once again before lunch, a figure strode around the side of the huge tires. It was Tucker’s Father, Mr. Jody Selman.
"Hello son," grunted his Father. Mr. Selman was a big man, who rarely shaved and constantly wore his cow boy hat around the farm. The hat was large and white and made the man look larger and more muscular than most would believe physically possible for a hat to do. Tucker instinctively shrunk beneath his Father’s shadow. Mr. Selman looked clean cut in his overalls and plaid shirt. There wasn’t a scratch of mud on him. He didn’t even look as if the heat was affecting him. Next to the teenage boy, Mr. Selman looked like a million bucks.
"Hey, Pa. Just…finishing up the potatoes. Something wrong?" Tucker was big, but not as powerful looking as his Father. His eyes were too innocent, his demeanor too calm.
His Father took a moment before answering. He stared across the way at the road where the SUV had just been. "Them new folks are mov’n in. Tom says they’re gonna live inside-a that old place…oh, what’s it called? That Binder’s Mansion?"
The name struck Tucker deeply. He shuttered softly and squatted, so as not to show his surprise, to tinker with the left hinge on the back of his plow. "Hmm," said Tucker.
"Yessiree. But, that ain’t none of my business. ‘Course it’s none of my business, not at all. All it means is we got new neighbors. That’s all. Ain’t nothing odd ‘bout that, is there? And they’ll end up like all the rest, most likely. So it ain’t none of our business what they do…. still." Tucker turned to squint up at his Father, whose face was brooding and dangerous.
"You keep an eye out for ‘um, ya hear?" Mr. Selman’s voice was low and growling. He spoke just above a whisper, as if fearing outsiders would hear.
"Don’t you get involved with ‘um. You know just as well as I do that them folks ‘r trouble personified."
"Yes Pa. Uh…no Pa. Won’t."
"Good boy!" Mr. Selman beamed, slapping his son on the back. "Finish up now." And with that, Mr. Selman strolled away, off the field, into the woods, and out of sight. Tucker watched his Father until he was nothing at all on the horizon, then sighed and jumped up onto his tractor again. He twisted the key in the engine, and the machine roared back to life.
These people weren't just your average self-respecting Kirk County people.
It was obvious to Tucker that the SUV must belong to some new city slickers. As it disappeared around the bend, and the only thing left to indicate that it had ever existed were huge clouds of dust swirling around in the sweltering heat, Tucker dismissed the scene. As he turned to hop aboard his tractor once again before lunch, a figure strode around the side of the huge tires. It was Tucker’s Father, Mr. Jody Selman.
"Hello son," grunted his Father. Mr. Selman was a big man, who rarely shaved and constantly wore his cow boy hat around the farm. The hat was large and white and made the man look larger and more muscular than most would believe physically possible for a hat to do. Tucker instinctively shrunk beneath his Father’s shadow. Mr. Selman looked clean cut in his overalls and plaid shirt. There wasn’t a scratch of mud on him. He didn’t even look as if the heat was affecting him. Next to the teenage boy, Mr. Selman looked like a million bucks.
"Hey, Pa. Just…finishing up the potatoes. Something wrong?" Tucker was big, but not as powerful looking as his Father. His eyes were too innocent, his demeanor too calm.
His Father took a moment before answering. He stared across the way at the road where the SUV had just been. "Them new folks are mov’n in. Tom says they’re gonna live inside-a that old place…oh, what’s it called? That Binder’s Mansion?"
The name struck Tucker deeply. He shuttered softly and squatted, so as not to show his surprise, to tinker with the left hinge on the back of his plow. "Hmm," said Tucker.
"Yessiree. But, that ain’t none of my business. ‘Course it’s none of my business, not at all. All it means is we got new neighbors. That’s all. Ain’t nothing odd ‘bout that, is there? And they’ll end up like all the rest, most likely. So it ain’t none of our business what they do…. still." Tucker turned to squint up at his Father, whose face was brooding and dangerous.
"You keep an eye out for ‘um, ya hear?" Mr. Selman’s voice was low and growling. He spoke just above a whisper, as if fearing outsiders would hear.
"Don’t you get involved with ‘um. You know just as well as I do that them folks ‘r trouble personified."
"Yes Pa. Uh…no Pa. Won’t."
"Good boy!" Mr. Selman beamed, slapping his son on the back. "Finish up now." And with that, Mr. Selman strolled away, off the field, into the woods, and out of sight. Tucker watched his Father until he was nothing at all on the horizon, then sighed and jumped up onto his tractor again. He twisted the key in the engine, and the machine roared back to life.
Post Comment | View Comments
