A Dead Woman
By Carlene Eye
copyright 2012 Carlene Eye
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When I was growing up in the 1950's, our Kansas farm home was isolated in the county where it was always quiet with no traffic on the dirt road passing the front of our house. There were no street lights, at night it was pitch black outside. One night about 8:00pm when I was twelve, our quiet life was suddenly interrupted by the screeching of tires and honking of a horn.
Before we could even get up to look outside, someone was pounding on the door, screaming incoherently. Dad opened the door and a man and his wife barged into our living room.
The wife was shaking, her face colorless. The man waved his arms and yelled, “There’s a dead woman on the road. There’s a dead woman. You’ve got to come now. There’s a dead woman!”
Dad was speechless. I hid behind him.
My mother was the first to regain the power of speech. “If there’s a dead woman, we need to call the sheriff.” She grabbed a phone book. With trembling hands she looked up the sheriff’s number.
The wife kept nodding her head as her husband continued to yell, “There’s a dead woman on the road. You’ve got to come, look.”
Mom finally found the sheriff’s number and dialed. Dad nervously paced the floor from window to window and kept peeking outside.