Saul - A Short story. Unfinished

This is an unfinished story. I hope you like what I have so far.

That dusty dirt road was all he knew. His Poppa would sometimes drive him and Momma down it, when he wasn't working or drinking at the bar with his buddies.
This time, Saul was going alone. The ink on the note was still drying. It laid still on the kitchen table. It's revelations just simple words on a piece of scrap paper, but they would serve his purpose.
Small bits of dirt, and nearly round pebbles danced around his footsteps. They almost seemed as excited as he was. "Well, come on, fellas!" He would shout at them. "Ya'll ain't gonna get no where by just layin' in the road!"
The town nearby was modest, but the folks that worked and met there seemed friendly and helpful. If nothing else was gained by Saul's venture, he would have shared good company at least.
He intended to find work, make a name for himself, and step out of his parent's shadows. Probably just washing windows, or pulling weeds out of Mrs. McDermott's yard, but it didn't matter. To be on his own, was the only thing on his mind.

He soon came to the Waverly Farm. He slowed his pace to look at the animals. He usually only had seconds to see them. Poppa had a lead foot, and liked the feel of the Model T sliding on the rocks.

"Here, chicky-chicky-chicky!" He called. "MmmOOOO, Moooooo!!! Cow! Moooooo!" His smile beamed as some of the animals turned to look at him. "Ya'll be good now, ya hear?!"
That old dirt road was longer than he remembered it being. Almost like time was slower now. In the back of the black Ford, well, time went by so fast that you could barely count the trees before they were out of sight.
This time, though, this time, Saul was able to count the number of Pine, Maple, Oak, and Sycamore trees that lined the road. "Gosh, there's another Maple! That's, uh, 12. 21 Pine, 13 Oak, 16 Sycamore, and 12 Maples." He recounted aloud.
Old Ben Johnson's fence was the last thing on this road. The first, or last, landmark you'd see, depending on your direction. "Wooo hooo!" Saul exclaimed. “Calverton, here I come!" His pace quickened.
Heart pounding like a marching band's drum, each stride brought him closer to the finish line. To victory. To freedom, and self worth.

"Saul! What the hell you doin'?!" He knew that voice. Poppa found him. The dirt and rocks ground under his shoes as he stopped and turned in the direction of his father.

"I'm leavin'! Ya hear?! Imma be a grown man! I don't need you!" He shouted, raising his fists. "Boy! You best get in the auto, or so help me!" Poppa demanded.
"Well, someone should help you! Ain't gonna be me!" Saul responded as he kicked his legs the fastest he'd ever before.
"Can't stay on the road now," he thought to himself "Poppa will catch me faster than a bullfrog snatches a dragonfly." He darted towards the woods just as his father settled into the motor car.


His legs carried him as best they could through the thick underbrush and downed trees. Slipping on the smooth, slimy rocks in Truman's creek was the final straw.
Dripping with sweat and water, Saul righted himself. He gasped for air and blew the dripping water from his nose and mouth. "Gal dang it!" He exclaimed. "Why can't I just do what I want?"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

In his hurry, Saul had left his basic needs short-changed. The scrape on his knee and the bruise on his shoulder would heal, time given, but the growling pain in his belly made itself clear.

“Dang it, Poppa! I’d be eatin’ a slice of Miss Holly’s apple pie by now, if it weren’t for yer meddlin’.” his thoughts turned outward, hoping that their words would bring some kind of peace.

The setting sun let the air cool a bit. The breeze that filtered through the thick leaves of Summer, now helped to cool his brow.

“I need to get my hide outta this mess of twigs!” he looked around, trying to find the shortest path to town. “Gotta be this’a way!” Saul pointed East-Northeast.  “Could be, I s’pose. Fuss it, Imma goin’. I’m bound to meet up with one of those bends.”

He trampled and trudged on. Falling more and more frequently, as the burdened muscles and the strain of the day left him limping towards the finish-line. Pushing himself through yet another brush of thorns, he fell hard onto a beaten path, lightly salted with small rocks.

“Emm-“ he struggled “Embrey?” He turned his head left and right. Is this the road to Calverton? The moon’s dim light and Saul’s exhaustion clouded the view to anything there may have been left for him to recognize. “Guess it’s you and me tonight. Goodnight crickets and frogs. Sleep tight.” He settled into the ditch, just off the road. On a pillow and blanket of leaves, he fell into a deep sleep.

“Boy!” He could hear a booming man’s voice say to him. Saul looked around confused. “Here, boy! This way!” Rubbing his eyes, he caught the vision of a rather portly gentleman waving his arms.

“Huh? You talkin’ to me, mister?”

“Yes, of course, son! Now who else would it be?” The gentleman responded. As Saul stood up, he tried to gain his bearings. There was an odd brightness to this day. Everything flickered like the moving pictures he saw at the state fair.

“That’s right,” the man confirmed. “this way.”

He walked towards him, slowly becoming comfortable with his newfound surroundings. A pianist started playing an upbeat song, the audience started clapping along with the beat. A wide eyed Saul took another step to find himself at the far right edge of a stage. As his uncertain steps carried him forward, the curtain raised.
"Ladies and gentlemen!" the large man shouted. "Look in amazement at the stubborn child!" The crowd cheered and whistled in anticipation.
A confused Saul stood in the middle, trying to make sense of it all, unsure of what to do next.
A strangely dressed man and woman walked towards him from the left side of the stage.
The flickering light was beginning to hurt Saul's eyes. "Oh, my dear boy!" The woman shouted, exaggerating her role. "I love ya so much, let me give ya a hug!" The audience poured out with an "Awwwwww"

As she embraced the on-edge Saul, the man seemed to reject. The disgusted look on his face said enough, but he spoke anyway. "Don't coddle 'em! How's he to be a man if you don't let him grow?"
The man tugged him away from the woman, she tugged back. Saul fell to the stage floor over the struggle, completely off guard.

"Boy!" The large man whispered loudly. "Get up! Get up, boy!"

He felt a shove on his shoulder.
"Boy?" it sounded like a young girl. "Boy, are you okay?"

The dew of the early Summer's dawn had settled upon him. He opened his eyes to find a girl hunched over him.
"Hey, you're okay?" she asked.
"Yeah, I'm okay. Who are you?" He wiped the leaves off and tried to make himself presentable.
"I'm Rosie. What you doin' in tha road, silly?"
Still gathering his wits, Saul had his young boy sensibility about him. "None of your business!" He managed. "Why do you care?"
Rosie let his harshness go as if he'd been nice to her.
"You hungry? Momma's about to fix some plates!" She offered.

Saul had found the right road.

He recognized where he was now. Right between the Turner's and the Haley's.
The stories he heard about the Turner's kept him up at night.
Little Rosie Turner was always playing in the yard, and even as fast as Poppa drove, you still heard the yelling and crashing sounds coming from that house.

"I'm so hungry, Rosie." he confided. "I'd be much obliged if you could spare some for me."

"Michael! Josephine! Rosie! Breakfast is ready! Get your asses in here!" Saul heard as he snuck next to the Turner home.
"I thought I told you to stop yellin'!" Michael screamed. Saul could see through the screen door, the fear that gripped the rest of them. He'd thought they would have been used to it, but maybe that was something you just don't adjust to. His life at home, while not what he wanted, it at least had love.
With a loud smack, Helen Turner fell to the ground and her daughters gasped before quickly covering their mouths.
"Now ya'll eat your damn breakfast! I don't wanna hear a word outta you two, or you'll get a whoppin' like your Momma!"
Michael stomped back upstairs.
After she heard her father's door slam shut, Rosie walked to the door where Saul was patiently waiting, a fly on the wall that desperately wanted no part of the room he was in.
"Hey!" she whispered. "Hey, Saul! You there?"
"Yeah. I'm here." he revealed himself.
"Here. Momma made some scrapple, eggs, and biscuits. I hope you like it! Sorry, I ate the biscuit." Rosie said as she slid the plate towards him.
"Thank you, Rosie!" he smiled at her, then quickly shoved the food into his mouth. "Momma! Wake up, Momma!" Josephine shouted.
Rosie ran to her sister's side. "What's wrong with Mommy?!" she asked her elder sister.
"Get back!" Josephine commanded, forehead scrunched. "This is all your fault!"
Michael screamed from the second floor "Shut your goddamned mouths! It's bad enough that I'm stuck with ya'll! Now just be quiet!"
Sliding his tongue around the plate that was now mostly clean, Saul rose to his feet.
"Rosie, come on, let's get outta here!"
Crying on the floor, she looked at him through blurry eyes.
She took hesitant steps to him, moving from knee and hand to foot after foot.
At the side door where Saul was waiting, she turned to Josephine, who was still trying to rouse her mother.
"Jose, you comin'?" Rosie asked.
Josephine didn't even look at her sister. She had been under this curse for too long. "Jose?!" she tried again.
Her sister, once a role model and protector, collapsed in a sobbing fit over top their mother's body.
"Let's go, Rosie!" Saul insisted. "We gotta get outta here!"


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~


“Saul, my feet hurt! Where are we going?” Rosie complained.

“We’re going to live, Rosie! Don’t you feel it?” He smiled at her distraught face. They were still miles away from Calverton and the dancing pebbles that once comforted and danced with him began to remind his feet about how sore they were.
“It’s not far now, girl!” he said, slightly turning his face in her direction. The morning was growing into noon and Saul knew that soon the people of Yowell would be driving the road they were walking down to get to work or wherever they pleased.

“Rosie” he said as he stopped and turned around to take her hand again, “I know a short cut through these woods.” he lied, not wanting to alert young Rosie to the reality that he coaxed her into.

“Huh? The way to town