The drought made the days seemed twice as long, which gave Harry plenty of time after dinner to sit in the barn and stare at the tractor and mentally cursed his borrowing money from the bank to buy the new invention and then use it to plow and plant his fields just in time for no rain to arrive.
A field of dying money, that’s all he had now.
He was thankful at least that things couldn’t get much worse.
“Late hour to be social-like.” Harry, thankful for the interruption, looked to his son and then went and stood beside him.
Harry and his son Eli watched as their neighbor, Allen Ambry, made his way up the road towards Harry Carlson’s farm; his steps leaving low hanging clouds of dust in the still air behind him. The fading sunlight made Allen a moving stain amid the ash grey blanket of dirt that covered the world. “It’ll be near dark by the time he even gets here,” Eli said. “What man leaves his family all alone at night? Reckon it must be somethin right-important?”
Harry looked at his son, taking in his stance that said there wasn’t a thing in the world that he was afraid of. “Go inside and help your ma with your sisters.” Eli looked at his father before walking out of the barn and across the yard to the front steps of the house. Harry watched him go, and though he wasn’t one to pat himself on the back, he was proud of his son and thought he and his wife had done pretty well raising the boy.
“Goddamned weather, huh,” Was the first thing Allen said when he stood before Harry, and after speaking, he laughed. Harry looked at the man before him, taking in the change from smiling and laughing to wincing and sobbing.
“Something happened,” Allen started - then seemed to change his mind. “I met someone . . . he made my hands do things, he took my hands and then at the end gave them back to me just long enough to hold my family before they died.” He looked to Harry. “He made me say things, horrible things to them, and then when he let me hold them he let me talk and say that I was sorry, and I didn’t know what was going on, and that I was scared.
“I tried to kill myself but he wouldn’t let me. He made me get up and walk here instead. He knows he doesn’t have to make me say things, or do things, because he promises when I’m done doin’ what he tells me he’ll let me die, so I do what he wants.
“He’s watching though, don’t think he ain’t.
“He says this whole country is cursed, but you can save it. You, Harry, you can save this country, this drought, all the people and families that will die from what will come. You can save them.” Allen pulled a revolver out of his left hip overall pocket, and a dollar bill out of the right one. “Sell him your farm for one dollar. You’re family leaves right now, I don’t care where you go or what you do, but you have to leave now.”
Harry looked at the money and then to his neighbor. “Or?”
“I’ll kill your two girls.” He wept then, his whole body shaking. “I’m sorry Harry, I really am.”
Harry punched Allen as hard as he could, and while Allen stumbled back from the blow Harry grabbed his arm and wrestled the gun out of his hand. Allen stood there, his free hand against his face. “Now get back home, Allen,” Harry said. “I don’t know what’s got into you but if you don’t head home now I’ll shoot you!”
Allen laughed, or sobbed, or both and said, “The gun wasn’t for me, Harry. I don’t need a gun to kill your girls. He’d never let me use it anyway, too quick. The gun’s for you. You chose the gun over the money so that’s that.” Allen turned and started to walk towards the house. “I have to do what I have to do, and so do you.”
Harry raised the gun. “Allen, keep away from my home, you hear me?”
“I hear you, do you hear me? We’re cursed, Harry, you and me. I realized it after what I’d done. Either you realize it now, or after you’ve lost your twin girls, it’s up to you.”
“Damn you Allen!”
Allen nodded as he put a foot on the first step of the house and Harry shot him once in the back. Allen fell to his knees, and stayed there for a second before falling back onto the ground.
Harry lowered the gun and went to Allen and looking down he found his neighbor looking up at him, smiling. “Thank you,” he said.
Harry looked away. He looked down to his boots and his eyes picked up the slightest bit of movement from the dust that covered the ground. He felt something behind him, faint movement, and when he turned he saw in the distance a growing cloud darker than the night that lit up with flashes of purple lightning.
He stared at the sight, wondering what it meant, while also fighting to give any credit to the voice deep in his mind that was telling him he made a mistake.
