Dark Rock
The inside of the farm house was small and warm. There was a small kitchen area with a black kettle stove, but no table and chairs. A bench that had once been a huge log sat against a far wall. A long homemade pillow made of barley cloth laid on it to make the sit more pleasant.
Across from the bench was the fireplace, a roaring fire was burning there. On the mantle laid a large box of matches, a tin cup, and violin or fiddle. I noticed two bedrooms behind the fireplace. I was guessing the mattresses were made of straw, because I got a strong smell of it when I neared the rooms.
The caramel skinned woman disappeared into one of the bedrooms and came out wearing an old pair of brown overalls. Her hat was gone, and her shoes were missing. She stood barefoot with the bottom of the oversized pants rolled up at the bottom. She wore a cream colored shirt underneath.
She smiled at me then exited out a door near the stove. After a few minutes she came back in through the same door carrying a box full of food stuffs. She set the food on the stove and picked up a rock off the ground near the left front leg of the stove.
A large rack of assorted pots and pans came down from the ceiling. She took a few off then set the rock back in it’s place, the rack rising again to the ceiling.
I watched her prepare the food, fill the stove with wood, and eventually began to cook a meal. The smell of the cooking food made my stomach growl with anticipation, the young woman laughed at the sound of it.
The night began to close in slowly, and before I knew it all that could be seen outside the thick glass windows was solid dark.
I heard the sound of an old wooden wagon being pulled by horses, it went past the house and toward the barn. After some time the front door to the house opened and in the doorway stood a giant of a man.
Fear struck me hard, and rendered me unable to move. I wanted to scream at the sight of him, at the suddenness of his appearance not just the sight of it.
He wore a straw boater hat over bushy, long, gray straggly hair that melded into his full beard flawlessly. His skin was a dark burnt sienna, leathery looking with many creases. His eyes were a dark brown, and narrowed in a menacing glare. His clothes were covered in a light film of dirt and dust that thickened into a layer the closer you got to the dark brown laced up work boots on his feet. When he opened his mouth and spoke harsh, curt words that I didn’t understand to the woman I loved, I saw his yellow and black broken teeth.