‘What time do you go down there?’
‘I don’t know, sometimes before eight. Really just whenever I get up.’
‘I don’t think you should be running out there alone.’
‘Because of animals or people? It’s a pretty wide open area, not a lot of brush for lions to be hiding in.’
‘Do you carry anything on you?’
‘Like what?’
‘I don’t know, a knife?’
‘I used to carry spray but sometimes I forget.’
‘You really shouldn’t get into the habit of forgetting.’
It was storming outside and we hadn’t had a customer in hours so I had taken to dusting the wine bottles. I sat on the old wood floor, careful not to slide around too much in case of splinters. Sherry was behind the counter, her wiry gray hair was poofed in every direction from the rain. She was pricing a new case of local cheese we’d gotten in that morning. Honey, lavender goat.
‘I don’t know who you think I’ll see down there. It’s only ever older couples with their dogs. Most of the time I don’t see anyone.’
‘It just isn’t safe. A girl being alone anywhere makes me uneasy.’
‘It’s winter, no one is passing through. We know everyone in town anyway.’
‘That’s exactly what worries me.’
The bell on the door chimed and it swung open. Down from the floor I could see two pairs of working boots wet with mud wipe themselves on the black felt mat. A gust of wind brought in the dense smell of wet redwoods.
‘Welcome in,’ Sherry sang, changing her tone.
I stood and wiped my hands on the front of my jeans, hoisting them higher on my hips after. The two county rangers went straight to the deli and put in their sandwich orders. Sherry motioned at me to go help them out, but when I showed her my dirty open palms she reluctantly walked towards the kitchen. I picked up my rags and took her place behind the counter, waiting patiently at the register.
‘Was surprised y’all were open.’ one of them said. His mustache didn’t move with his lips, I always wondered how he got it to do that. Some sort of beard glue.
‘Always are.’ I leaned against the counter and watched Sherry drape slices of smoked turkey over each other.
He approached the counter and slapped down the two bottles of lemonade. They clinked and wobbled to a rest.
‘It’s getting pretty nasty out there. Looking like 128 will be closed by the end of the day. You should think about closing up early, nobody's got power.’
‘We’ve got the generator out back, we’ll be fine. Besides, someone's gotta be here in case people need water.’
The second ranger came up behind him with the two sandwiches Sherry had made. I grabbed some napkins from below the counter and rang them up.
‘You guys ever get any leads on the goats out on Blind Beach?’
‘The ones you said were headless?’
‘The very same.’
The one with the mustache didn’t like my tone. He smiled, the dark hairs hanging from his parted lips.
‘No one else reported anything. And you know what’s funny, we went out there ourselves to have a look and we couldn’t find anything. No goats, alive or dead. Definitely nothing headless.’
‘Well I wasn’t out there alone, there was a couple that saw them too.’
I placed the sandwiches and lemonades in a bag and dropped it heavily on the table. The radio cut out, followed by the lights. We all waited in the dark for three long seconds until the generator kicked on. A faint hum could be heard from out back.
‘I don’t know what to tell you, no one has come forward and there’s no evidence to prove you’re right.’
‘Besides my word.’
‘That’s right.’ He smiled again, taking the bag and putting it in the hands of the other ranger. The silent one.
Sherry came to my side and put her hand on my shoulder.
‘Well you fellas have a nice day.’ she said sweetly.
‘Thank you ma’am,’ he said before turning to me again. ‘You should think about closing up before it gets dark. A lot of trees are coming down. Wouldn’t want there to be any accidents on your way home.’
The door chimed a second time as they were on their way out. I grabbed the mop and went to the entrance to clean up the mud.
More short stories from Bent Pages:
Hoping there is more to this!