Snow Melt

Creation Saturday: Burring the Evidence

Saturday, August 25, 2012 ~ Day 25 of the 30-Day Blogging Challenge prompt is There is a full moon and you hear a noise outside your bedroom window. You go to the window, look out, and see one of your neighbors burying something in your backyard.

It was one second after midnight. The day had just passed from Monday to Tuesday and I still couldn’t sleep. I knew why I couldn’t sleep, Kevin’s shift had just changed from afternoon to graveyard. I was sleeping alone for the first time in our married life; I didn’t like it, but the pay for the graveyard shift was twice as much as he could earn working the morning or afternoon shift.

Because of the recession, I had lost my job and we needed to money. We weren’t behind on the house payment, Kevin’s paycheck had always been enough to make that, but we were behind in everything else. We had prioritized the other bills and this month we needed to pay the power bill or have no electricity. Unfortunately, repairs on the car had cost almost as much as the electric bill. When graveyard shift opened up, Kevin applied for it and since he had more seniority then any of the other in-house applicants, he got the shift.

As I lay in bed, staring at the ceiling or watching the clock, I heard something in the backyard. Shit, I thought as I got out of bed, I suppose someone is trying to break in. I went to the window and saw, not a stranger, but my next door neighbor Sylvia digging a hole in my backyard. On the ground beside her, the full moon illuminated a large aluminum container.

I put on my robe and went to the patio door. Sitting at the closed patio doors was Specs, our Springer spaniel. I fastened her leash to her collar and together we went into the backyard.

“I, Jane,” Sylvia put down the shovel, “I guess your wondering what I’m burring.”

“Yes,” Specs went to the cooking pot and tried to remove the lid. “Considering that pot is too small for Harry’s body, even if you cut him up.”

“I...” she sighed, “I burned the spaghetti this time...”

“And Harry didn’t smell it.”

“He’s working,” she picked up the shovel, “he won’t be home until noon today. If he finds out I wasted anymore food, he’ll... he’ll chain me to the bed again.”

“That doesn’t explain why you’re burring the pot of spaghetti in my backyard.”

“Jane,” she started to cry, “if I burry it in my backyard or put it in the trash, he’ll find it.”

“Sylvia, return to your house, put your cat in her carrier, pack a bag for yourself, and come back here.”

“Jane, I can’t endanger you!”

“You won’t,” I patted her arm, “I’m taking you to the Women’s shelter and Gertrude to Kevin’s mother. She always wanted a calico cat. She will enjoy cat setting until we find you an attorney and a safer place to live.”

“All right,” she started to pick up the pot of spaghetti.

“Leave that, I’ll put it in my trash; I doubt that Harry will go through a neighbor’s trashcan looking for burnt food and Kevin will find the idea of me burning spaghetti amusing.”

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