The Feed Store

The screen door slammed. It was Luke Fletcher, who ran the back of the store for me. He was tall and lean like Gary Cooper and wore a white cowboy hat everywhere he went.

“Just me,” he called out. He went behind the counter for his coffee. “Morning, Dwayne,” he said, acknowledging my father’s photo. He brought his coffee to the kitchen door and peered in at me.

“Morning Jenny, you sure are looking good this morning. New dress?”

I smoothed my hands over my apron and smiled at him. I think I giggled at the compliment. It was a new dress.

“Biscuits this morning?”

“Thought it would be a good day for it,” I answered. “That truck is supposed to arrive today from Topeka with supplies. You want some eggs?”

“Ate at home, but I’ll take one of your biscuits when they're done. Saw old man Rutledge out back waiting in his truck for me to open.”

I popped a tray of biscuits into the oven and nodded at him. “Mention the biscuits to him.”

Luke didn’t answer but merely grunted in agreement. He headed out back to flip on the lights and open the docking bay doors. I sold feed, dog food and all sorts of farm supplies from the back of the diner. It was an all-in- one-stop; get your supplies and your breakfast or lunch before heading home.

It wasn’t long before old man Rutledge came through the back and walked behind the counter for his coffee.

“Heard we got biscuits this morning, Jenny,” he said as he passed the kitchen door. He poured his coffee. “Morning, Dwayne.”

It always made me smile the way folks said morning to my father’s photo. I wondered what he thought about it. Was he up in heaven, stretched out on a cloud watching? Knowing my father, he was loving every minute of the respect and the joke.

Rutledge went around to the front of the counter and took one of the stools. I brought him a plate of bacon and fried eggs and a fresh hot biscuit.

“No gravy?”

“Maybe tomorrow,” I answered.

“Not much good tomorrow, got the biscuit today,” he grunted.

I ignored his grumbling. Passing behind him I patted his shoulder in sympathy of his plight and started wiping down the table tops.

“Got any honey?” Rutledge asked.

“Nope, Rhonda hasn’t been in.”

“Some fine diner you got here, Jenny,” Rutledge complained, “biscuits with no gravy and no honey.”

“Alright, George, stop your fussing at me,” I warned.

The old farmer mumbled into his coffee cup but said nothing else to me. Within the next four hours, the biscuits, eggs, bacon and sausage were all gone and most of the town had been in for their breakfast and their coffee. I was ready for a break when a wispy young woman of nineteen entered the diner.

She had long brown hair that held specks of red throughout and large blue eyes. She was taller than me and thin as a rail. She wore jeans and tennis shoes, with a long flannel shirt that did little to flatter her figure. She was carrying a bouquet of field flowers and snuck into the kitchen to surprise me.

“Rhonda, where’d you come from?” I exclaimed.

“Brought you some fresh flowers for your tables,” Rhonda announced.

“Come on child, let’s take a seat,” I led the girl out of the kitchen to one of the tables. “You want anything?”

“I’ll grab a coke, if you don’t mind.”

“Help yourself, you know where it is.”

“Isn’t it a beautiful day?” Rhonda asked, not really wanting an answer. “Sun’s shinning and birds singing. I tell ya, Jenny, I love spring.” She threw her arms wide in an embrace of the world, sloshing the drink in her glass.

“Oops, sorry,” Rhonda grabbed the counter towel and bent down to wipe the floor.

“Don’t worry about it honey, come on over here and take a seat, will ya? Haven’t seen much of you lately, tell me how you been doing?”

“I’ve missed you too. It was a long winter, wasn’t it? Couple of times I thought the roof would cave in on me with all that ice, and the damage to the trees was terrible. I’m still picking up piles of broken branches. Plenty of burning wood for next year though.”

“God provides,” I agreed. “How are your bees doing? Folks are asking for honey and I’m all out.”

“You are?” Rhonda sounded surprise. “I’ll take the empty jars home with me and bring you some next trip in.” Rhonda pushed her hair behind her ears.

“Don’t do that, it makes your ears stand out,” I warned. I reached over and pulled her hair back. “You have such lovely hair, don’t try to hide it.”

“I’m not hiding it, mom,” Rhonda teased. “You sound like my mother.”

We fell silent. Rhonda’s parents had passed away the year before leaving her the farm and very much alone in the world. She didn’t farm the land, but she did have a nice garden for her vegetables and the bees for an income. She also had a strong faith that life would bring her what she needed most; a man.

“I miss Betsy,” I sighed.

“I know. I miss mom too, but she'd be very pleased to know that you're still here taking care of me and fussing in her stead.”

“She would indeed. Your mother and I went way back. Met her in first grade and knew her all her life. She was my best friend and my dearest confidante. Did I ever tell you about the time…” I could see her drift away. She’d heard that story too many times. “Ah, you don’t want to hear about that again, do ya?”

I would have told her a different tale except the screen door banged. We both looked up to see a tall young man wearing a suit and black shoes. He raised one leg at a time to wipe the dust off the patent leather, then grimaced at what he couldn’t wipe off. He looked up at us revealing dark eyes behind his scowl.

“I’m looking for Jennifer Dubois,” he announced.

“That would be me,” I answered.

He walked straight to me with an out stretched hand. “Richard Nichols,” he announced. “I’m with the law firm of Bennett, Downs and McMasters out of Wichita. I’m here on a matter concerning your father, Dwayne Dubois.”

Rhonda and I exchanged quick glances. “Father left me some money?”

“Not hardly,” his tone was a bit snooty. “I’m here to present you with papers of ownership. You have thirty days to vacate the premise.”

“Say what?” I was standing now, staring at papers I couldn’t understand with the hereto’s and the therefore’s. I was trying not to shake but my hands gave that away. “You better explain yourself mister.”

“Your father defaulted on a loan to the Wichita National Bank and they are claiming their property.”

“He didn’t default you idiot, he died.”

Rhonda disappeared at the mention of vacating the property. She returned with Luke. He was standing next to the well dressed lawyer, wiping his hands on an old rag.

“What’s going on, Jenny?”

“This highfluting city lawyer says he’s taking my property.”

“You want me to dump him in the feed bin out back?” Luke offered.

Richard Nichols looked nervous.

“If my father owes a loan, then I’ll pay it off,” I suggested.

“Too late for that Miss Dubois, you should have made a payment long before this.”

“I didn’t know anything about it!” I turned to Luke. “He is a bit daft in the head, isn’t he?”

“You have your papers, Miss Dubois, now if you will excuse me,” he headed for the door.

“Grab him Luke!” I screamed.

Luke grabbed the back of Nichols’ fancy suit and pulled him down into a chair.

Rhonda ran to the back for a rope and we soon had him hogtied in the chair. He wasn’t going anywhere.

“Now what?” Luke asked.

“Not sure,” I answered. What was I going to do? I was acting without thinking and now I had to think. I went behind the bar and stared at my father’s photo. “What have you done to me? I’m an old woman, where will I go? Oh, Daddy, what have you done to me?”

“You people are in big trouble,” the lawyer squirmed against the ropes.

“Don’t say, ‘you people’,” Rhonda offered. “It’s not nice and you're no better than we are.”

“I don’t tie people up!” The lawyer insisted.

Finally my brain kicked in. “Luke, remember that story that ran in the paper last week about the guy in Cincinnati?”

Luke snapped his fingers. “Yeah, yeah I remember. They were going to take his trailer away from him and he filed a…oh what was that?”

“A motion for stay,” the lawyer offered.

“Yes! I want one of those things.”

Nichols rolled his eyes, “Then get a lawyer and file one. You’ll need a lawyer anyway to get you out of jail for kidnapping.”

“You know,” Rhonda offered, “if you smiled more you’d be a handsome man.” She moved closer to Nichols. “Ever thought about being a farmer?”

Nichols’ expression looked like he was ready to throw up. “God no.”

Jeffrey Adams, the barber from down the street came in, and went behind the counter for his coffee. “Morning, Dwayne.” He took a seat at the counter and surveyed the scene. “What happened, the city dude didn’t like your biscuits?”

“This city dude is a lawyer and he wants to take the Feed Store away from me,” I answered.

“I think we should throw him in the bin out back,” Luke offered again.

“They’ll just send another one,” Jeffrey said sipping on his coffee. “Seen it happen before. One doesn’t return to the office, they send another one. They got plenty of them in the city, you know.”

“How much is left on the loan?” I asked him. When he didn’t answer I stepped forward and twisted his pretty tie as tight as I could.

“I’m not obligated to give you any information,” he choked.

“Let me punch in his face,” Luke raised his fist and the lawyer shrunk back.

“NO!” Rhonda threw herself into the lawyer’s lap. “Don’t hurt him; he’s just doing his job.” Then she turned her attention to the captive. “Even if it’s a terrible job, I’m sure he’s a nice man. Aren’t you?”

He looked at Rhonda’s pretty blue eyes. He could smell the sweetness of her hair. It wouldn’t hurt to tell them and maybe they would turn him loose.

“Three-thousand and thirty dollars,” he mumbled.

“That’s all?” I whined, and slumped into a chair. “Might as well be a million.”

“Your inventory out back is worth more than that, Jenny,” Jeffrey offered.

I looked at Luke. It was true. There has to be thousands of dollars worth of feed, fertilizers and equipment.

“We could have a sale!” Suddenly, I felt hopeful. “Turn him loose, Luke. I’ll raise the money in less than thirty days.”

Rhonda leaned against Nichols’ chest, “Aw, do you have to turn him loose?” She snuggled against him. “He’ll leave.”

“He can stay there for all I care,” Luke answered. “I’ve got customers out back anyway.” With that he left.

Jeffrey motioned for me to come closer. I did so and he whispered in my ear a very interesting suggestion. I nodded and then quickly excused myself.

“I smell something burning in the kitchen!”

Jeffrey smiled at Rhonda sitting on the lawyer’s lap.

“Well, I have heads to cut. See you later.”

The screen door slammed and Rhonda turned back to her captive. She played with his tie and smiled sweetly at him.

“So, let’s talk about farming. I bet you’d look good in a pair of jeans, sweat running off your strong arms. Do you like children?”



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