Granger's Threat. Teresa Pijoan

jacket to its peg by the backdoor. Margaret yelled at her, “Sophia, go into the bedroom and get me my wrap. Your fire appears to be dwindling and let’s not waste anymore wood on your attempts.”

      Sophia surveyed her parents’ bedroom. On the floor next to the bedroom door was a small piece of paper. She retrieved it. Granger Pino had signed a credit card receipt at the gas station down the road. The time on the receipt was one o’clock this morning. Sophia stuffed it into her jean pocket. “Well, life is certainly curious.”

      Her mother’s crocheted wrap was neatly folded on her bed. Sophia walked down the hall. She heard the sound of plates clattering and then her mother’s famous high pitched laugh with Charlotte admonishing her. Sophia shook her head, “Time for me to leave.”

      The tile floor echoed her foot steps as she went down the hall to the kitchen. She stood in the doorway of the kitchen and handed the wrap to her mother. “Mom, I am leaving now. Have chores to run shall speak with you later?”

      Margaret dismissed her with a wave of her hand. She and Charlotte were washing up the tea mugs and putting the excess food in her fridge. “Yes, we’ll talk, bye!”

      The grey sky reflected the day’s events. Everything was dull with dark clouds hovering overhead giving the appearance of an utterly smooth surface. The air was still. Still enough for there was no movement in the fields of any kind. This blustery, raw morning had allowed the air to settle into a placid peace, a great calm. Sophia bent down to pull the log holding open the oak gate into her mother’s property. There was no need for it now. Then she noticed Charlotte’s truck and let it drop back against the heavy gate.

      “Sophia, Sophia, hey, do you have a minute?” Mr. Perkal waved to her as he loped from his opened garage to his wooden gate. Mr. Perkal’s mutts ran aside him barking all the way to the closed gate at the entrance of his property. “Sophia, just wanted to let you know the Missus and I are sorry to hear of your father’s passing. Even though he had been sick for over two years, just his presence gave the neighborhood a sense of peace.”

      “Why thank you, Mr. Perkal.”

      “Also, we just wanted you to know that if you hear anything about the memorial service, we would appreciate it if you would let us know. We would like to attend.” He tried to zip up his winter jacket, but the zipper wasn’t working. “Anyway, oh, also the Missus wanted me to tell you that when she got up last night, she gets up and down all night long with leg cramps, she saw your brother’s new Mercedes driving away down the drive around four-thirty this morning. She was impressed with his thoughtfulness for he kept the lights off so as not to wake up the neighbors.”

      “My brother was here last night?”

      “Oh, yes, he was very attentive to your mother’s needs. Listen we have no problem keeping your father’s dog here.” Mr. Perkal reached down to stroke the black lab. “Old Blue is a good boy and is used to being with the others. Your mother gave him to us. Let her know we are proud to have him.”

      Sophia’s voice cracked as she spoke to him, “Mom gave you Papa’s dog? I thought she was going to keep him or give him to my brother?”

      “No, she said your brother is in the middle of a change in his life and your mother told us your life was too busy for a pet. He’s ours now and we love him.” He scratched Old Blue’s ears. All of Mr. Perkal’s dogs as if on a secret mission turned at once and ran to the other side of his acreage. The grey-brown hound was in the lead, baying at the top of his lungs. “Ah, oh, the porcupine must be back! Better go, talk with you soon!” He scurried off with his heavy winter jacket flapping. Running to the hound, Mr. Perkal pulled the dog’s snout out of the hole near the fence to wave at Sophia, “He’s fine, no porcupine quills this time!”

      Laughing, Sophia pulled on her worn mittens. She frowned. Seriously she hadn’t purposely decided to wear her worst winter clothes. They had just been grabbed first out of comfort. Sensing movement from the side of her mother’s house, she stopped.

      “Sophia, Samuel Goldfarb just called?” Margaret was waving a kitchen towel wildly in the air. “Sophia, good thing I stopped you! Tomorrow at two o’clock will be the reading of the will at Samuel Goldfarb’s office. You are just the person I need to speak with for Geoffrey needs to be there as well.”

      Sophia slowly walked to her mother. “Is his office the one on Fourth and Central downtown?”

      “Yes, you can’t miss it.” Margaret grabbed the towel off of her shoulder where she had just put it to wrap it around her hands. “OOO, it’s cold out here. Oh, and Sopha, would you be kind enough to dress in something nice as I have always wanted you to dress? Try to look like as if you were raised with some semblance of dignity!” Margaret ran back to the house, slamming the backdoor behind her.

      “Well, yes, some semblance of dignity can be arranged.” Sophia straightened her wool cap on her forehead. Yanking open the door to Geoffrey’s turquoise truck, she noticed the rake and shovel in the back. “Hey, I even brought my own work tools, hah!”

      While double choking the starter, a turn of the key brought the old truck to life. Sophia leaned forward over the steering wheel to stare into the early afternoon sky. Speaking to no one, she said, “Granger was driving away from this house in the dark, late at night, with no lights. What do you make of that?”

      The clutch was pushed all the way into the floor boards as first gear was shifted in the gear box. The heater was turned high to warm the icy cold of the truck cab. She drove to the stop sign then turned right onto Calle Aspen to drive slowly down the corrugated dirt road to the Calavera highway.

      6

      Rocoso, New Mexico

      Friday, January, 1988

      Geoffrey sat up in bed to reach over and turn on the bedside table light, “What is it?” Sophia sobbed into her pillow. He pulled the sheet back from over her head, “Sophia, what is it now? Come on! I have to be at work at seven if I am going to take an hour off for the will business. Couldn’t you cry about your father during the daytime when we don’t need our beauty sleep?”

      Sophia suddenlty pulled her knees up, “Yes, Sir!”

      “Oh, come on, Sophia, enough already. Come over here.” Geoffrey reached his arm under her shoulders, turned her to his chest, and hugged her. “There you go, now you are enveloped in the quiet peacefulness of your man.” He leaned over her and turned off the bedside lamp. “Go to sleep, my beauty.”

      Sophia felt the jolt on the bed before she was fully conscious believing it to be Geoffrey getting up early to go to work, but then the jumping started. This was a herd of girls on attack. Sophia flung back the blankets and grabbed Sybil who was closest to her. “Ahhh, I am going to eat you for breakfast, my sweet!” Sybil screamed and ran into the bathroom. Donna was still trying to crawl up the side of the bed, “Mom, you can’t get me. I’ll eat you first!”

      Glancing at the clock on her side of the bed, Sophia gasped, “Run, run, run, we have twenty minutes to be ready and out of the door. Go, girls, go!” She grabbed her underwear and her lavender sweatsuit from the dresser drawers and ran into the bathroom. The girls were giggling as they ran down the hall into the kitchen.

      “I get the Sugar O’s first,” screamed Donna.

      When Sophia walked into the kitchen she noticed that Sybil had the table set with bowls, spoons, cereal boxes, and napkins. Donna was shoveling in her Sugar O’s as if she would never eat again. Sybil was busy reading the story on the back of the Shredded Wheat box. Sophia put the tea kettle on the stove, turned, reaching into the refrigerator to pull out sliced ham, whole wheat bread, mayonnaise, mustard, and some boxed fruit drinks for the girls’ lunch boxes. “All right, today you both have home made lunches, but you have to tell me what drink you want?” Sophia placed the boxes of fruit drink on the kitchen table.

      Donna started to sniff. Sophia quickly grabbed the dishtowel from the rack by the kitchen sink, “Another bloody nose, Donna?” Donna shook her head as blood slowly ran down her upper