“Oh, Mr. Anderson, its such a pleasure to meet you finally.”
Lyle glanced sideways at Peggy. The senior was smiling in that way Southern women did when expected to. Perfectly. Too perfectly.
“Sorry I’ve not been able to return your calls. The cell-phone reception out here is a bit spotty.”
“Oh, that’s quite alright Mr. Anderson,” she replied. “I know you’re busy with this beautiful project here.”
“Yes, about time someone did something with this dump,” jumped in her companion, a balding man named Richard. “I can feel the value of my house going back up with each load you’re hauling off.”
Turning to face the two Lyle could feel his stomach drop. Peggy claimed to be with a local Homeowner’s Association whereas Richard said he was with the Chamber of Commerce. All well and good, he supposed, but his mother’s side of the family was Southern.
“Smile to your face, stab you in the back,” she used to say about overly proper folks.
“Well, can I offer you two something to drink?” An obligatory offer.
“Oh no, Mr. Anderson,” Peggy laughed.
“I’m fine, got my coffee right here.”
“So, what could I do for you then?
“Well, there’s some concern in the community that you’re planning to open another fluffy mill here.” Peggy started, lips pursed. “And of course I told them there’s ab-so-lutely no way you’d be doing all this work just to start another fluffy mill.”
“It’d be insane,” Richard echoed.
“Yes, insane is a good word, Richard.” Peggy nodded. “We’re trying to attract new businesses, get some of those fancy high-tech companies here, things that will really push up the value of the town, you know?”
Lyle nodded because that’s what you did in conversations.
“You are trying to bring value to our community, aren’t you?” Richard asked. “I realize farming and livestock is a big part of people’s lives here, but we’re thinking larger, bigger picture.”
Lyle sighed. “My partners and I are rehabilitating this old building, this old mill, into a sustainable and ethically managed breeding facility to serve the Southern market.”
“I do like those words. That’s what the market wants! Sustainable and ethical!” Peggy said with a practiced gasp.
Richard was less “ecstatic,” eying the younger man narrowly. “Breeding what, might I ask?”
“Fluffies.”
With that in the open Peggy simply smiled wider, as Richard put on his hat. “I’m disappointed, young man. I was hoping you’d have a bit more sense than that.”
“What would you rather I do with the building then?” Lyle shot back, annoyed.
“Burn it down if you’re going to be an idiot,” was the reply. “There’s tens of millions of dollars worth of investment money looking for a home in a hundred mile radius. Your damn mill is going to scare it away from here.”
“Oh, so sorry Mr. Anderson, but we must be leaving,” Peggy said, smile hollow. “We’ve got things to do for the better part of the community. The part that wants to grow.”
The hardware store’s lights went off an hour ago, but Lyle sat in the truck, tablet in hand. It was only a 20 minute drive to the motel or back to the work site. A short drive to his room. Where he could take a shower, to watch the water turn brown and gray as scrubbing turned him raw. To watch nothing on 52 channels. Or go over the business plan again. Or inspect the day’s work again. Like last night.
Or he could sit, read random posts on social media posts, and try to unwind a bit before getting into more work.
Maybe listen to the tapping on the hood. A cop’s eyes looked at his, each tap knocking dust from the work site off the metal.
“Its after hours, mister, you need to find some other place to hang out.”
“Ah, sorry. Got caught up after dinner.”
“Wilson’s hot dogs?”
Lyle raised a brown paper bag, empty save for wrappers and napkins. “Two slaw dogs and a chili.”
The cop nodded in approval. “Still, need you to get going. Loitering and all that.”
“Anything to do around here? I’m working on a project but really don’t want to go back to the motel already.”
“Bowling alley. Next county over. Best you’re gonna do for now. Got about an hour drive if you want to drink at a bar. All these counties here are dry.”
The truck came to life with Lyle driving off. The cop followed, turning in the opposite direction.
“Munstah man gon? Metaw munstah gon?”
“Dey gon…”
A gray earthie fluffy poked his head out from the yellowing bushes around the store parking lot. As he stumbled out a yellow pegasus followed with a rainbow of foals. The trash can chained to the fence, but that didn’t stop him from trying to tip it over.
“Wan nummies! Pwease gib nummies metaw t’ingie! Huuu…”
The mare went to him, trying to assist but the chain held. As they attempted to tip it, a green foal stared at the parking spot Lyle was in. Wondering what their brother was looking at, the others came to join him.
The wind kicked up, blowing dust onto them.
“SCCCREEEEEEEEEEE!”
Alarmed, the parents looked in horror as their young scattered about in each direction, shit and piss spraying about. The green one slammed into the curb, then again and again til he knocked himself unconscious. A yellow filly ran off into a field by the store, voice trailing off in the distance. A blue colt ran to his parents, eyes wide and dilated. As he impacted them, the dust in his fluff puffed out.
“SCREEE!” the gray father let loose. “MUNSTAH!”
“SCREEE!” the yellow mother shrieked.
“NU WAN’! NU WAN’!”
“WOWSTEST! WOWSTEST!”
They ran over their blue child, crushing him as they fled back through the bushes. Behind them was a trail of shit and piss, leaving his last moments to dwell on what sin he could’ve possibly have committed…
