Excerpt from 'Marge and Terry'

‘Marge and Terry’ is a short story set in a fictional, rural, north-central Indiana community, in the late 1970s to early 1980s. This is the third in a series of published stories with this setting, the other two are available on this website and are entitled, ‘Buying A Stone’ and ‘She and I.’ To no one’s surprise, the locale, the farms and village bear certain similarities to the author’s home and depict a way of life that has nearly faded from view.

‘Marge and Terry’ appears in the Prolific Press publication Crossroads, along with a number of fine short stories and poems by other writers. It is the author’s hope that the following excerpt will tweak the reader’s interest sufficiently to buy a copy of Crossroads, or perhaps to suggest the local library consider buying the anthology.

Prolific Press, Inwood Indiana, ‘Crossroads’ http://prolificpress.com/bookstore/index.php main_page=product_info&cPath=4&products_id=105

From Amazon.com, 'Crossroads'
http://www.amazon.com/Crossroads-Contributing-Authors/dp/1632750279/ref=sr_1_1?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1427493804&sr=1-1&keywords=Crossroads%2C+Prolific+Press

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Cheryl Campbell's barn

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An excerpt from

Marge and Terry  

By Ken Leland

Terry flips open his cellphone and presses ‘speaker.’ Katharine is the fourth caller since Terry and Cheryl sat down to supper.

“Terry,” Katharine says. “Have you heard anything new about Marge?”
Terry sighs. From across the table, Cheryl mouths, “Be nice."

Sorry, Kat. I haven’t. Nothing new.”

“It’s so terrible,” Katharine says. “Marge, missing, lost somewhere in the fighting. You don’t think they’d hurt a nurse, do you?”

“Kat, I don’t know. The news says people are freakin’ out over there.”

“That’s right, but you and Marge were always so . . . Cheryl, are you on the line?’

“Yes, Kat. I’m here.”

“Oh, Cheryl. Since Reverend Hisslock put her ‘In Our Prayers’ this morning, the whole town’s worried what’s happened to Marge.”

“We’re worried too, Kat.”

“What are we gonna do with all those donations in the church basement, the clothing and medical supplies? Every year Marge gives us new addresses. Where do we ship this batch?”

Terry shakes his head at Cheryl. Tonight, he can’t deal with a call for prayers, he can’t face his fear that Marge lies murdered, a world away.

Terry spreads a clean towel on top of the three bean salad bowl and stalks out onto the front porch. Sun’s going down, fireflies just starting to flicker. Red sky at night, sailors’ delight. He ain’t no sailor, but Terry will take it. Bats swoop from the hay barn, circle the sentry light, then dive low over his soybean fields.

Good God, it’s been nearly fifty years, Terry realizes, fifty goddamn years and folks still remember, Marge and Terry, Terry and Marge. .   .   .  

The story continues in Crossroads.