The Woman Who Fell From Grace
“She was zipping across the front pasture when I pulled the Nova through the gate. The sight of her perched regally atop her motorcycle, back stiff, nose high, smile frozen, gave a whole new meaning to the words bitch on wheels.
Roy, the talkative old gardener, waved her down when she got to the ash-lined drive. He pointed to the outer wall over by the souvenir stand, where he’d left a shovel and wheelbarrow. She started over there with him. When she saw me, she indicated she wanted me to follow... them. I did. Who was I to let her down?
The two of them had their heads together by the wall. Roy was kneeling on the ground, one knobby hand scratching fretfully at some fresh soil there.
“Roy seems to feel some form of animal life is getting in under the wall at night,” Mavis informed me. Her biker outfit consisted of a trim white cotton jumpsuit and belted suede jacket, with a flowered scarf over her head. “A fox, or perhaps a coon.”
Roy gave me his blank stare, worked the chaw of tobacco in his cheek.MoreLess
Roy, the talkative old gardener, waved her down when she got to the ash-lined drive. He pointed to the outer wall over by the souvenir stand, where he’d left a shovel and wheelbarrow. She started over there with him. When she saw me, she indicated she wanted me to follow... them. I did. Who was I to let her down?
The two of them had their heads together by the wall. Roy was kneeling on the ground, one knobby hand scratching fretfully at some fresh soil there.
“Roy seems to feel some form of animal life is getting in under the wall at night,” Mavis informed me. Her biker outfit consisted of a trim white cotton jumpsuit and belted suede jacket, with a flowered scarf over her head. “A fox, or perhaps a coon.”
Roy gave me his blank stare, worked the chaw of tobacco in his cheek.MoreLess
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