Welcome to the Spot Writers. This week the prompts are any three of the following words- tub, motorcycle, papers, hard
Today’s contribution comes from RC Bonitz, author of A LITTLE BIT OF BLACKMAIL, A LITTLE BIT OF BABY, and A BLANKET FOR HER HEART.
Next week’s story will be by Val Muller, author of FOR WHOM MY HEART BEATS ETERNAL, a sci-fi romance, and CORGI CAPERS: DECEIT ON DORSET DRIVE, a mystery novel for young readers.
A hard working woman my Aunt Kathryn is. Had some bad luck too, not long ago. Pete, her husband went and got himself killed in a motorcycle accident four months ago. Aunt Kathy got herself a job waiting tables at the HiWay Diner, but it don’t pay much.
Off from work the other day, doing chores, she was outside with the laundry tub, hanging clothes and stuff on the line. The second hand dryer Pete bought a while back cost hard earned cash for the electric, so there she was, outside on a bright sunny Friday afternoon.
A big wump-crunch out front on the road grabbed her attention. She spun around in time to see Marcus Tigsby’s old gray pickup slam into a tree with another loud wump.
Now, she don’t care much for old Marcus. He killed Pete, see. Drunk out of his mind most times, he was waiting trial for manslaughter and right back to his old ways in the meantime.
If Marcus smashed his truck, that was fine by her. That first wump though, that likely meant the lush had hit somebody too. A clothespin in her mouth, she dashed right out to the road. Yup, there it was, a nice looking car up against the stone wall, its driver’s side all bashed in. She ran to the window and stuck her head inside.
“You an angel?”
A man was sprawled across that center counter thing between the seats with blood running from a cut on his head. He smiled at her.
Aunt Kathy spit the clothespin into her hand. “No, you’re still alive.”
His smile widened. “An angel of mercy then. How do you do, Angel?”
She stuffed the clothespin in her pocket. “Are you all right?”
“Yup. Nope. I don’t rightly know.”
“Don’t move. You might have something broken.”
He groaned. “Actually, I’m lost, I think. Did you call the law?”
“I don’t have a phone.”
He tried to sit up straight. “Cell phone here somewhere.”
“Stay put. I’ll find it,” Kathy said and by gosh she did. She reached in, pushed the button to open the rear window, shinnied through, and crawled all round that car until she found the man’s phone. Sitting next to him in the front seat she was by then. She called the sheriff.
“You’re sitting on my papers,” the man mumbled.
“What? Oh, sorry,” she said and realized his papers were scattered all over the place. She picked up one, then two and suddenly noticed her name at the top of one. “Why do you have my name on these?”
He blinked. “You’re Kathryn Crandall? Good, then I’m not lost. I’m Mike Hurst, from Hurst Insurance. I have a check for you and papers to sign.”
“From Pete’s accident?”
“Yup.” He propped one hand beneath his chin. “My head hurts.”
“Just take it slow and easy. Help is coming.”
He frowned. “I don’t think I can give you the money today. I’m a little groggy.”
“I’ll come back another time.”
“Okay. When you’re feeling better.”
Twinkled his eyes did then. “I like that. When I’m all better.”
The Spot Writers- our members.
Catherine A. MacKenzie