"Ben..
Ben.." The old woman shaded her eyes and squinted into the
waning sunlight. "Ben, whar are ya, boy?" With only
the two of them left to look out for each other she was getting
nervous at his delayed arrival. It would soon be dark.
Much
to her relief, she saw his silhouette coming toward her with his
back to the setting sun. "Here Ah am, Granny," he said
as he came nearer. He knew how she worried so much lately since
the others were taken.
He
leaned the axe by the corner post of the old porch and unshouldered
his burden, thick bundle of short sharpened straight locust poles.
"There," he said, laughing. "That there should
stave 'em off for another night."
Granny
cackled, 'Boy, Ah always loved yore sense 'o humor... Now let's
git inside afore it gets real dark an' they start 'acomin'."
They entered as the last ray of twilight turned to night. Granny
barred the door as Ben strode across the room to light the kerosene
lamp.
As
she turned, watching his smiling face in the new lamplight, she
then noticed the two new small puncture marks on the side of Ben's
neck..
"Oh
Lord, have mercy!" she screamed as she ran for the pile of
stakes..
The
slow old woman never even made it halfway.........
