Arson Dark -Novel Excerpt

Shady Vale supermarket sat atop a hill overlooking Pike’s Creek Baptist Church. The supermarket could be called a “mom and pop” store as the owners- Daniel and Bonnie Gillespie- owned the business and purchased most of their products from local farmers and food distribution centers. Yet, their customers flocked from local communities and the store was competitive, being the biggest grocer in the refion. With the advent of bigger named franchises infiltrating the community, and because of a tough economy, there was always a chance of going out of business for the Gilespies, which is why Daniel often quipped,
“Damn corporations want to ruin everything I’ve got!”
To which Bonnie would consol,
“No need to be afraid, we have the community. And they’re like family.”
Doubts ran high, however, among the farmers who knew they would have better security by going through those larger companies, and thereby would be able to pass their farms along to future generations.
“You watch him while we enter the store.” A man quarreled with his sister.
“No! We should’ve kept him at home in bed!” The sister remarked.
By their side was a man in his late 70s, and grandfather of the two who also happened to be supporting them by providing a home and food with retirement pension from the Navy. His Alzheimer’s was in its earliest phase, and it would only get worse for him as he’d often forget where he was and who he was. Delusional, he stumbled, then leaned on his grandson’s shoulder.
“Let’s just go!” The sister growled before angrily shoving into Shady Vale.
As they did so, their grandfather belched loudly and grunted out,
“The fires coming your way, ingrates!”
This, to be sure, drew great attention from the small crowd of people gathered in the grocer. They dull, grey and blue eyes sat upon the old man, some smirking, some pointing and laughing quietly. The baggers and cashiers also stood silent, their empty eyes piercing the trio.
“Take him down the isle, I’ll get what I can find. Just stay with him.” The brother said authoritively.
The sister placed the old man’s arm around her shoulder and supported his weight down the middle of the store, cutting into the crowd, still laughing and pointing at the old man teasingly.
“Three loaves of bread, three gallons of milk, and three tubs of butter.” The old man mumbled.
Pigs heart was on sale in bundles just as the heart of the twon seemed to be obscured and easily taken over. Their midst overrun with rumors and conformity that the most obsolete and obscure thought should be hammered into their ideology like a rusty nail standing out in the summer heat along a splintery, wooden fence.
“That old fucking man over there has lost it.” A man in a cowboy hat whispered to his eight year old daughter.
Daniel, staging and cleaning a shelf of dried goods overheard the man and walked to him, an angry scowl on his face. He approached him, and, after flipping the cowboy hat off, bellowed,
“Anybody from around here, and anybody period , in my store, is a customer! You just remember that Todd!”
The daughter, in her pink and white pokadotted dress, stared up at her father anticipating his next move.
“Well you just keep an eye on that senile old quack. He scared my daughter half to death with that six six six crap! Who the hell needs three gallons of milk?” Todd quipped.
Daniel, with a quick glance at Bonnie, grabbed Todd by the collar and forcefully escorted him out of the store, the daughter in shock, following mechanically. Once they arrived at the entrance, Daniel flung him out, shouting,
“Go to wherever ignorance thrives. I don’t want you here no more!”
Todd stumbled outside, spit out his chewing tobacco, creating a nasty puddle of mucus and brown liquid, and took his daughter by the hand.
“Let’s go, we’re not welcomed here.” He said genty.
The two headed to their car in the snow-riddled parking lot. Impending doom stood straight, its contenance relying on the town’s oblivious nature. For about a mile out, the smell of gasoling loomed about the First Baptist Church on Herd’s Avenue. Inside Shady Vale, the old man and the sister crept into the beer cave, finding refuge from the onslaught of prying eyes and angry faces. The brother gathered the groceries in a cart and was checking out. He caught a glimpse of where his sister had stood and nodded. After he paid, the sister and grandfather rejoined him, appearing as puppet and puppet master would, shuffling along until meeting him. Once outside, they stopped, an expression of awe shared by each of them.