Copyright Sharon K. West 2007. All rights reserved. You may not reprint this short story without permission.
Leon Cordle sat in the old rocking chair on the front porch of his ramshackle cabin and cradled his rifle. The stench of wet chicken yard, sweat, and gun cleaning fluid hung on the air. Leon rocked back and forth at a slow steady pace. The movements of his head up and down matched the yes, yes of the creaking rocker. Like a hunter waiting for prey, his eyes never strayed from a small grassy area beside his mailbox near the road. The road disappeared among the trees, but the mailbox and the area beside it were plenty visible, and that's all he needed to see. That shiny, black Mercedes always stopped right there on its secret mission.
"I'll be damned if I'm going to let this go on," he told his wife at breakfast.
Lindy Cordle did not reply. She and little Kate had huddled together that morning while Leon ate. At seven years of age, Kate pretty well judged just where to be and how to act while her father was in the house. "No talking" was just how he liked it. If she and her mother did not agree with him . . . well, silence was enough of an "amen" to suit him.
Kate glanced at her mother's face. If Lindy's eyebrow raised—ever so slightly—Kate knew it was a signal she was in trouble with her father. Better to hurry directly to her corner of the room, right then, behind the old bedspread hung over a clothesline in the corner.
This morning, Lindy twisted her face away and rubbed her neck—chronic pain from tension overwhelming her. Kate fidgeted, relying on her own instincts now, yet the corners of her mouth felt as though they had a mind of their own. She could not keep them from turning up into a smile. The Mercedes! Today! She forgot herself and blurted out, "Oh, Daddy, I think it's wonderful when the Mercedes comes. Don't make it go away! Please . . ."
Leon's frustration veered toward Kate like a heat-seeking missile. "You stupid little girl. Don't tell me what to do." He lifted his hand as if to strike her but he stopped in mid-air. He eyed Lindy and Kate's new clothing. The presence of the Mercedes lingered everywhere in his home like an invisible force against him. His gaze went to the canned goods neatly stacked in the rickety cabinet by the stove, then settled on a small envelope sticking out from behind the cups on the shelf above the sink.
"I thought I told you to throw that away!" Leon yelled.
"I-I thought maybe we were supposed to plant them," Lindy said.
Leon jumped up, pushed her aside and grabbed the envelope. The contents poured out of the open top and bounced across the floor.
"Always the same," Leon said through clenched teeth. He crumbled the envelope into a tight ball. "Two dried peas in an envelope with my name on it. But you two get clothing and gifts. Why? What does it mean?" Leon ran his fingers through his oily hair. It was then that he vowed to stop it. Nobody was going to make a fool of Leon Cordle.
Lindy and Kate kept silent. Better to let the Mercedes be the object of Leon's anger. It had more of a chance of escaping him. The two stood back now from the windows unseen to watch him waiting in ambush. So far, no sign of the Mercedes or another cardboard box next to their mailbox. The boxes began appearing every couple of weeks for the past six months and according to the pattern, one was due any day. These offerings stove off their pathetic situation. Dresses, underwear and assortments of other clothing came in each box in Kate and Lindy's sizes. The canned goods kept their nagging hunger at bay. Yet, rather than being happy about their mysterious benefactor, Leon let the dried peas stoke the furnace of his pride.
The rhythm of the rocking chair on the porch kept up for the better part of an hour before Leon stopped to scoot it back into position from its slow migration toward the steps. His plan was simple: aim for the tire of the Mercedes. That ought to send a stern enough message to keep well away from the Cordle property without getting into too much trouble with the law.
The sound of tires on the gravel road signaled him to get out of the chair, kneel on one knee and look through the sight of the rifle. Closer and closer the vehicle came, but it was no Mercedes. A green pickup truck turned into the long, winding driveway. Leon lowered the rifle, stood up and waited for the truck to stop, blocking his view of the mailbox. Sheriff Jim Joseph got out and walked to the porch. "Mornin', Leon. Killin' some ground hogs?" he asked.
"Crows, Jim. Just some crows. What brings you out this way?"
"Just passin' by. Thought I'd check on Lindy and Kate in case you were workin' somewheres." Jim glanced at the dark windows hoping to see them but knowing he would not with Leon there.
"You know of a black Mercedes in these parts?" Leon asked. "Seems we see one go by ever once in a while."
"No, I can't say that I do. Seems odd for a Mercedes to be traveling these Appalachian roads. But maybe some tourist likes the area."
"No tourists. A do-gooder from the city," Leon scowled. "Leaves a box of charity goods by my mailbox every couple of weeks." He sat back down in the rocker.
"Hmmm. That sounds like something that will help you out, Leon, seeing as though you are having a down time right now. Why so mad about it?"
"They must be sending some kind of message. Lindy and Kate get clothes and gifts. They put two dried peas in an envelope with my name on it. That's all that's in the box for me ever . . .well, besides the food."
"Two dried peas?" Jim asked. "Does seem odd. But I bet Lindy and Kate enjoy their gifts. They certainly deserve them."
Leon squinted his eyes at the sheriff. "I can take care of my own. Don't need anyone getting them all het up over some new things they don't need."
The sheriff saw the storm brewing in Leon's cold eyes. "Just be thankful, Leon. Whatever those peas mean."
Leon stared back at him, and Jim decided to go. "See you later, Leon,” he said, and then yelled at the house, "Bye, Lindy! Bye, Kate!" But no one answered from inside. He slid into his truck and left.
Leon's gaze followed the truck down the driveway, then focused on the mailbox. Jim saw it, too, and glanced out of the truck window in time to see Leon's startled face in the distance. A cardboard box sat next to the mailbox. The Mercedes had delivered it while he was talking to the sheriff! Jim pulled away as Leon jumped up, grabbed a piece of firewood from the pile on the porch, and threw it into the woods as far as he could.
"Lindy! Get out here and get this box!" Leon yelled. He flounced back down in the rocking chair.
Lindy hurried out the door and ran down the driveway. Kate ran after her and together, they wrestled the box home and sat it on the porch. Lindy looked at Leon.
"We're gettin' low on food, so I guess you can open it . . . " Leon said with a jerk of his head. "Inside!" He leaned back and propped one foot on the porch railing.
Lindy and Kate hoisted the box onto the table in the kitchen. Lindy smiled as she opened the box with a knife. Kate spied the cover of a picture book on top, Underneath, sweaters and warm socks for Kate and Lindy, canned goods, cereal and powdered milk filled out the box. Tucked into the picture book, a receipt marked "paid" for their electric bill brought forth a gasp from Lindy and one hand over her chest. They stacked item after item on the table, and in the bottom of the box, they found the envelope marked "Leon Cordle." Lindy ran her hand over the outside, and sure enough, felt two dried peas.
Part 2
Two by two, Mercedes morning by Mercedes morning, Leon took to counting those peas. He lined them up on the dresser beside their bed, making a long line across the top, and he extended the line until it looked like a green, wrinkled strand of pearls stretching part way around. Tossing and turning, Leon dreamed of peas and awoke to peas. Lindy watched him from the kitchen as he would sit on the edge of the bed and stare at them.
Lindy and Kate dreaded the peas' arrivals and even wished for something else in the box for Leon, for his rage and obsession intensified with every delivery. Month after month, Leon positioned himself to catch the Mercedes and shoot its tire, but somehow, it always managed to allude him. He tried climbing a tree. He tried hiding in the ditch. He tried tying the dog to the mailbox. But the Mercedes came and went undetected, except for once, when he ran out and saw its taillights disappear over the crest of the hill. To make matters worse, the Mercedes delivered large items along with the cardboard boxes without Leon even seeing it.
First, it was a bicycle, a black, shiny bicycle, that reminded Kate of the Mercedes. It was her pretend Mercedes, and she raced around the yard whenever her father was not on the front porch. Then, another morning, it was a coffeepot, then a rug. Then a sewing machine. But each cardboard box contained an envelope for Leon with two dried peas.
Kate grew more and more curious about the Mercedes driver. Who was it? She began to think how she might find out. Lindy contented herself, thankful for the answer to her prayers.
But Leon could not sleep at all now. He could not eat. He could only think about two dried peas.
Part 3
By Leon's calculations, another Mercedes morning had dawned. More than ready, he took up his position on the porch at dawn and kept his eyes trained on the mailbox. He had spent the day before raking gravel back onto the roadway from where it had washed off to the side into the ditch.That gravel ought to make a lot more noise now, he thought.
Kate was ready, too. She would see the driver today or else.
Just when Leon thought the Mercedes was not coming, he heard the faint sound of tires on gravel and saw the flash of black metal through the trees. Trembling, he got down on one knee and raised the rifle sight to one bloodshot eye. Sweat broke out on his forehead and his mouth felt as though he could spit cotton balls. He squeezed the trigger. The recoil of the rifle knocked him off balance, but he knew he hit something. He laid the rifle on the porch, stood up and leaned from side to side, squinting to see past the branches of the trees. No sound. No movement. He jumped off the porch and crept down the driveway.
Taking cover behind a bush near the road, he parted the leaves and leaned forward to look through. In a little heap on the road, he saw Kate, lying under her bicycle. She bled from one side, moaned and turned her head.
Leon dived through the bush and landed on all fours in the road. "Kate! Kate! What were you doing out here . . . w-why?" he wailed. "I didn't mean to . . .I didn't mean to!" He got to his feet, pulled the bicycle off her, then picked her up and laid her on the soft grass next to the mailbox.
Lindy heard Leon yelling and ran to the roadway. She screamed and knelt down to stroke Kate's face and hold her little hand. In the valley, a car rumbled on the road. Leon and Kate both turned their heads to see it, mouths open, eyes pleading. Thank God, help was coming!
Leon's expression hardened when he saw the black Mercedes coming up the hill, and he slowly stood up and walked out into the middle of the road. The Mercedes driver screeched to a stop 100 yards from them, turned around and raced back the other direction. Leon cursed and ran after it. "No . . . .Nooo . . .stoooooop! he yelled, but the only thing that stopped was the dust in his eyes and mouth. Choking and broken in spirit and strength, Leon fell on his knees, then sprawled in the middle of the road, beating the gravel with his fists and kicking his feet.
"Leon, Leon, what will we do?" called Lindy.
Leon laid there spent and exhausted, no longer able to move. Gravel dug into his cheek and stuck there, dropping off as he dragged himself up off the road and stumbled back.
Kate went in and out of consciousness, but her breathing stayed steady. "Let's get her to the house," Leon whispered, and carefully gathered Kate up in his arms.
Lindy held the screen door open and Leon placed Kate on her bed. Lindy dabbed a towel at the wound in her side and folded a wet washcloth on her forehead. With no phone and no car, Leon paced the floor trying to think of their next step. He stopped and whispered, "Listen. . ." They both heard the sound of a siren wailing in the valley.
Leon ran out to the road and waited, pacing and pulling at his shirt, until he felt he would explode. Finally, the ambulance sped down the dirt road toward him. He raised his arms and waived it to a stop.
The emergency technician stuck his head out the ambulance window. "Got an anonymous tip from a cell phone. Where's the little girl?" he asked.
"Up there! In the house!" Leon followed and took a shortcut through their abandoned vegetable garden and around the shed.
The emergency technicians examined Kate, then loaded her into the ambulance. Leon and Lindy got in and sat by her side. They sped off, siren blaring.
Kate moaned and opened her eyes. "Momma . . . Momma," she said.
"Yes . . . Momma's here."
Kate looked at her father. "Daddy, I wanted to see the Mercedes. I wanted to tell the driver I know why they give you peas."
Leon leaned forward. "Why, baby? Why do they give me peas?"
"It's like the picture book. The princess could feel peas and that's what made her a princess." The ambulance lurched onto the main highway. "Daddy, if you could feel peas, you'd be a prince, too."
Leon reached over to take Kate's hand. She pulled it back in fear of her father, but he caught it gently. Then he reached for Lindy's hand as well.
"What are you doing, Daddy?" Kate’s face a picture of unbelief, she looked from his hand to his face.
Tears streamed down Leon's face. "I'm feeling my peas."
~~~~~~~~~
Copyright 2008 Sharon K. West. All rights reserved.