Brittany Reid

10/4/08

Creative Writing Honors

Literal Story

An Axe to Grind

                Joel sighed as he came into the kitchen, rubbing at his small, red beard with one hand and scratching his stomach with the other.

            “Mornin,’ babe,” his wife said in her Southern Belle accent, greeting him with a kiss before hustling back over to the table.  She was dressed in a simple, yellow sundress that morning with a flower print apron wrapped around her waist.  She had bright, blond hair that reached halfway down her neck; her slender cheek bones and bright, blue eyes emanated the youth in her heart.  Yet the slight bags under her eyes showed that she had been a hard working wife and mother for many years.

            “Mornin,’” Joel replied, stretching to pop the fifty-three years of kinks in his back.  He wore overalls over his bare chest as he sat down to read his morning paper while his wife put the finishing touches on breakfast.

            “Justine, where are the boys?” he asked as the delicious smell of bacon, eggs, and grits wafted into his nose.  He licked his lips when Justine placed his plate in front of him, along with his cup of coffee for that morning.

            “Outside doin’ their chores.  Sammy’s getting milk, and Jeff’s feeding the pigs,” she said, using the pony-tail holder on her left wrist to pull her bright locks up into a tight bun.  Joel nodded to himself.

            “Good to see them up early for a change,” He said, flipping through the paper.  Suddenly, he heard laughing outside.  He looked up and furrowed his eyebrows.  Through the screen door, he could see his neighbor Bill, talking to the boys on his brand new tractor. 

Bill was a blond boy with a bowl-shaped haircut covering his eyes and often sported a blue baseball cap on his head along with a simple t-shirt and blue jean pants.  He also wore brown sandals.  Bill was a young boy of about twenty-nine years old, and he always made that fact known wherever he went.  Joel frowned.  He had always taught his boys rewards of doing an honest day’s work the good, old fashioned way.  But Bill always tried to influence them to the ideals of modern technology, regardless of how costly such contraptions were.  Bill also had an interest in trying to obtain costly property values.   He was a very materialistic country boy, which both attracted people to him and made him the odd-one-out in the town.  On top of this Joel had seen Bill cut eyes around to his wife Justine, who was about forty-three years old.  Bill was a bachelor and he lived alone; he just didn’t seem to care that Justine was practically fifteen years his senior and was unavailable.  The fact of the matter was that Justine did not look a day over thirty, and she was one of the few attractive women in town; and while Joel allowed Justine to have her independence, he also kept a close eye on her.  He glared at Bill from over the top of his paper and frowned at how chummy the man was being with his boys. 

            “Well, well, if it isn’t Bill O’Reilly from down the street! Such a nice boy,” Justine said, wiping her hands on her apron.  She leaned all of her weight on one hand against the counter top as she stared at Bill out of the window.  Her other hand was placed at her hip.  Joel frowned as he noticed her eyes glowing with affection at the sight of the young boy outside.

            “My, my.  Such a handsome young man.  And the kids have taken a likin’ to him too, I’ll tell you that,” she said with a smile.  Joel rolled his eyes.

            “If you love him so much then why don’t you marry him instead of ooglin’ like a lil’ school girl, Justine?”  He asked.  Justine turned and leaned the whole back side of her body against the counter while facing her husband.  She folded her arms,

            “Now Joel, don’t start that again.  You’re just jealous of Bill because he’s popular with the kiddies and they have fun with him.”   Joel scoffed and shoved a forkful of bacon in his mouth.  He spoke while trying to chew,

            “The boys have fun with me too.”

            “Yes, but it is ‘work fun’ Joel, not ‘fun-fun.’  There’s a difference.  And don’t talk with your mouth full.  I don’t want to see you digestin’ your food; it’s gross,” she said, going to the screen door.  Joel slammed down his coffee he had recently taken a sip of.

            “Woman!  Where in Sam’s hill are you goin’?” he cried.  She rolled her eyes.

            “I’m goin’ ta invite Bill in for breakfast.”

            “The hell you are!  I’m not having that little runt in my house! He’s a disgrace to my farm!”

            “Oh, Joel, stop bein’ overdramatic!”

            “He disgraces an honest day’s work Justine, with his new machines and shortcuts.  When I was growing up, we put our heart and souls into our work; we learned and grew from our sweat and our labor, and our crops and animals grew too.  They lived longer and prospered.  There was love and devotion put into carin’ for our land; it’s not the same when done artificially, Justine!”

            “But that’s today’s generation, Joel, and when the boys grow up there’ll be even more advances for them to use.”

            “I’m not goin’ ta have him ruin the foundation my family set for this farm!”  Joel said, standing so quickly that his chair tipped over just as Bill and the boys came inside.  Joel would be damned before he let Bill take his family and their life away from him.  He had worked so hard to give them what they had and he wasn’t going to lose it to some snot-nosed brat like Bill. 

            “Papa! Papa! Did you see Uncle Bill’s new tractor?  It’s wicked awesome!”  Jeff said excitedly, his blue-green eyes wide with excitement.  He was the youngest at six years old and inherited the same shaggy, red hair as his father, though he currently had his mother’s young face.  He wore slacks without a shirt. Joel raised an eyebrow in confusion.

            “Uncle Bill?”

            “I figure I can let the boys call me Uncle.  That’s okay with you eh, Joel?  It’ll be like I’m part of the family.”  Bill replied, winking and then snickered a bit.  This only served to arouse further suspicion about him in Joel’s mind.  Joel grumbled to himself before making his way out of the house and slamming the screen door shut.  He needed to walk around… cool off… think… get away from Bill before he did something he would regret. 

After Joel left, Jeff made his way to his mother’s arms.  Justine picked him up.

            “Mama, what’s wrong with Papa?”  He asked.  Justine glanced over at Bill who was smiling at her invitingly.  She blushed at the fact that he would flirt so openly around her children, and Bill’s action did not go unnoticed by Sammy, who frowned a bit.  Sammy, at age thirteen, was the oldest child and he was starting to inherit his father’s face.  He had very curly red hair that made a small afro atop his head, and he had freckles.  He often wore t-shirts and overalls and preferred to walk around barefoot, just like his younger brother.

            “Mama?”  Jeff asked again, tugging on her sleeve to get her attention.  Justine cleared her throat and tore her eyes away from Bill, who gave a smug grin.  Sammy rolled his eyes.  He didn’t like Bill, but pretended that he did for his brother’s and his mother’s sake.  He had seen the way Bill flirted with his mother when he thought no one was around.  The way he would get close to her, caress her face, and whisper in her ear.  The way he’d show off his latest gadgets which caused more harm than good to farming, but his mother didn’t understand…or didn’t care.  As for Jeff, he was too young to understand and he just thought Bill was so cool.  Sammy didn’t want to ruin Jeff’s image of Bill or upset him, so he said nothing.  But it seemed that his mother was starting to stray away from their father.  Sammy hoped she would soon see Bill for the scum that he really was, but all he could do was hope.  Justine rubbed her youngest son’s head.

            “Papa’s just a cranky Gus this mornin’, sweetie,” she said, kissing her son’s cheek.  He giggled and hugged her tightly.  Justine then set Jeff down and told everyone to go and wash their hands.  So boys left the room, except for Bill who said he would wash his hands in the kitchen sink, where Justine was currently stationed.  He slipped behind Justine, pressing his chest close to her back, and she shivered as his warm breath caressed her ear.  He brought his arms up and around her shoulders as he reached into the sink before them and washed her hands with his own.  She couldn’t help but giggle.  While she loved Joel, he hadn’t shown her nearly as much affection as Bill had.  Justine may not have been in her twenties anymore, but she was still a woman with needs, and she craved attention, which is what Bill gave her.

            “Your ‘Cranky Gus’ seemed right mad at me today.”

            “When is he not mad at you?  Keep this up and you’re goin’ to lose that cute head of yours.”  Justine said, leaning her head back against Bill’s shoulder.   He chuckled dangerously.

            “That’s a chance I’m willing to take.”  He said.  Justine sighed.

            “Bill, this if fun and all, but I love Joel.”

“Babe…I’m just givin’ ya a preview of what you could have if you left that old bugger.”  He said.  With that, he ran his now slightly damp hands up her arms while gently caressing her neck with his lips, giving her goose-bumps.  His feather light touches made her weak in the knees.  She nearly lost her resolve.  What would she do?  Joel was sure to be back any minute but…she hadn’t been loved in so long.  She sighed and turned in Bill’s embrace.  He gently placed his forehead against hers.

            “Justine…you smell like fresh hay.”  He sighed.  She giggled.

            “I’ll take that as a compliment.”  She said. He smiled, then leaned forward and whispered in her ear,

            “If you were with me, you’d have everything.  This lot and mine, we’d be the richest couple in town.  No one could touch us.”  She sighed.

            “Oh, Bill,” she gently pushed him away, “I don’t care about material things.  I just need a good man to take care of me.  I have that in Joel.”  She said.  Bill’s eyes grew wide in confusion for a moment.  Had he been reading her signals wrong?  He thought she had been giving in to his charms all this time and that he could reel her in for good in that morning.  He wanted her, and her home, and everything she had.  He also knew that she wanted him too; otherwise she wouldn’t have played his little game.  He wouldn’t take no for an answer, that wasn’t in his game plan.  He would have her… and her everything.  He sighed.     “I was hoping you’d see things my way, Justine.  You’re so beautiful and smart; I know we’d be perfect together.  We’d have everything,” he said, gently caressing her face with the back of his knuckles.  She reached up and pressed her hand against the one on her face; her other palm came up to cradle his cheek.  She spoke softly.

            “I’m sorry, Bill.  But I’m older than you; you’re…well… just a kid.”  There was silence, and Bill placed both hands on Justine’s waist.  He may have been a kid, but he was a kid who knew what he wanted.  His grip tightened, shocking her a bit.  She gasped and tried to pull his arms off of her.  What was wrong with him?

            “Bill…that’s a bit too tight.” She said in a whisper.  Bill responded lowly,

            “I’m afraid I’m the one whose sorry Justine, because I can’t take no for an answer.”  With that, Bill squeezed her once before releasing her, turning around and walking forward.  Justine’s eyes grew wide in fright.  He was heading for the family heirloom: an old ax that sat mantled on the wall.

            “B-bill?”  Bill reached up and took down the ax, gently running his finger over the blade.

            “You don’t get anywhere in life without property, Justine.  I am willing to share mine with you if you share yours with me.  And Joel would be out of our lives forever.  But you won’t give me what I want willingly….” He turned to face her with empty eyes.  She gasped.

            “Bill….”

            “So, I’m afraid…I’ll have take what I want by force.”  He said.  With that, he went right outside the front door to the grinding wheel in the front yard and began sharpening the ax.  With each pressure against the blade, a screeching sound was made that terrified Justine to no end.  What was he going to do to her?  She thought of crying out for Joel, but didn’t know how Bill would react to that.  Would he attack Joel?  Her?  Her boys?  Would he go on a rampage?  She would find out soon, as Joel began approaching the house again from taking a walk around the farm.  He felt tension rise within him when he saw Bill with his ax.  His ax.  He paused a few feet away from him.

            “Bill.  What are you doing?”

            “Grinding this ax.”

            “That’s my ax, Bill.  I didn’t give you permission to do that.  It don’t need grinding.”

            “I had to.  I have this problem, see Joel?  And I need to grind this.”

            “Your problem, does it have to deal with my wife?”

            “Somewhat.”

            “You can’t have her, Bill.”

            “I gotta grind this ax then, Joel.  I gotta.”  He went back to grinding.

            “Go home, Bill.”  No response, he just kept grinding.  Joel frowned and stormed past Bill into his house.  Justine immediately began to panic, asking Joel what he was going to do and if he was going to hurt Bill.  By now the boys had all come back but Joel told them to take their mother and hide in a room.  Jeff hesitated out of confusion, but Sammy knew better and quickly herded them all to safety.  Joel went outside.  He didn’t want to hurt Bill, but he would if he had too.  He stood a few feet in front of Bill with his gun at his side.

            “That ax don’t need no grindin’ Bill.  It was fine, dull.”

            “It needs grindin’ Joel.  You can’t have a dull axe when it needs grindin’.”

            “I’m gonna tell you once Bill.  You ain’t welcome here no more, go home.”  Bill didn’t listen; only more grinding.  Joel waited to see if he would respond.

            “Whatcha gonna do with that ax, Bill?”

            “It’s the only way I can get what I want.  She’ll love it.  The kids’ll love it, we’ll be happy,” he looked at Joel with empty eyes, “…She don’t love you, Joel.”

            “You’re crazy, Bill.”

            “No, there’s only one factor I have to remove and it’ll all work out, see?  I’ve got it planned, it’s simple.  Sorry, Joel.  Nothing personal, you understand.”  He said, raising the ax above his head.  The eye of the storm bubbled into a rage within Bill’s pupils.  Joel frowned, but he stood his ground.  Somehow, he had seen this coming.  Bill cried out as he charged forward and Joel didn’t hesitate to react.  He took aim and fired, piercing Bill in the gut with a loud shot.  Bill froze and… coughed up a sprinkled fountain of blood… before falling over face forward.  The ax was still gripped tightly in his hands, just above his head, as if he wouldn’t let go for the life of him.  Joel sighed, pulled a cigarette out of his pocket, and lit it. 

After hearing the shot, the family came out.  When they saw Bill’s dead body, they gasped.  Justine covered her mouth with her hands and tears came to her eyes.  Jeff buried his face in her apron and whined and whimpered quietly Sammy just stared at the body.  Joel frowned.

            “You did this, Justine.”

            “No.”

            “You led him on.  He thought you’d say yes.”

            “N-no. He knew that my love was only for you Joel.”

            “His head knew, but his heart didn’t.  Justine, he came at me.”          

            “No.”

            “He came at me to get this property, the boys, and you.”  Justine hiccupped and looked at Joel with sad eyes.  He stared her down.

            “He had an ax to grind with me, because of you.”  He said.  Tears streamed from her eyes as she opened her arms out to Joel, seeking solace and consolation.  He allowed her that much, wrapping his strong arms around her for the moment. 

            And Sammy turned his attention to stare at the family heirloom; the ax that was still gripped tightly in the hands of the man who sharpened it, now dampened with his own blood.