Everglades

long time, no see, hehehe :P i started a creative writing course a couple weeks ago & figured id post what i write here too. writing short stories >1000 words is challenging so far but fun

The sun hung low in the sky by the time Diane had finally arrived in the Everglades. Her stomach growled, and in her hangry-ness, she grew more and more annoyed by the bobble hula dancer on her dashboard. On the bright side, it should only take her an hour tops to get to the campsite, and then she could cook dinner, call her mom, and go to bed. The cicadas chirped loudly even over her Sabrina Carpenter CD and the constant humming of her camper van.

So loudly, in fact, that she almost didn’t hear the woman on the side of the road. An older lady, with cottony hair and a pink and blue plaid blouse stepped out into the road, frantically waving her arms. Diane’s van screeched to a halt. With a frustrated sigh, she rolled down the window as the woman approached.

“Hi, honey, I’m sorry to be so forward about this, but my car broke down, and I could really use a ride.” The lady said, her voice all high pitched as if she were speaking to a Labrador.

Diane hesitated to answer. Instead, she pressed her lips together tightly, and leaned back in her seat. The woman’s car was off to the opposite side of the road, a red Toyota Corolla with its hood popped open. She seemed like such a nice old lady, too. Despite Diane’s growing hunger and fatigue from driving all day, the idea of leaving somebody’s grandma stranded sounded borderline heartless.

“Yeah, alright. What about your car?”

“Oh, I’ll have my husband call the tow truck in the morning.” She answered cheerily, already walking around and opening the passenger door. “I’m Emily Callaway, by the way.”

“Diane. Diane, um, Jenkins.” The brunette answered, her focus turning to the rearview mirror as she slowly turned the van around. She avoided the sight of her own reflection, bothered by her unwashed hair and the dark bags underneath her normally bright green eyes. “Where would you like me to drop you off?”

“My house is right outside of Miami, on Jefferson Street. Goodness, I am happy to see you. I’d been waiting an hour for someone to come.”

Damn it. That was a good forty minutes in the opposite direction of the Everglades, much less the campsite she needed to find. Nevertheless, Diane just put the address into her GPS, and started to drive.

There was maybe ten minutes of quiet before conversation started up, and her mood brightened a little. Maybe she could just get some fast food for dinner, instead. Emily had been rambling on about the birds she’d seen during her trip, but Diane’s attention perked up at the mention of dinner.

“Sorry, what’d you say?”

“Ah, right, sorry. My habit of talking too fast,” She chuckled. “My Bobby’s making dinner tonight, his famous pork chops. Neighbors used to come over askin’ for some back before they moved out. He’s got a whole blend of spices that make them perfect.”

Diane’s stomach growled again.

“He sounds like quite the cook,” She remarked, resisting the urge to try and invite herself over for dinner.

“He really is! All I can do in the kitchen is fruit salad for Bible study every Saturday, and then- Oh, forgive me. Where are my manners? What about you, sweetheart? What’s got you in the Everglades so late tonight, going camping with your family?”

“No, just me. My parents are back up in Oregon.”

“What’s got you all the way out here, then?” She asked, as if Diane might as well have been from Timbuktu instead of Portland. She couldn’t help but chuckle, flexing her hands against the steering wheel.

“Just… enjoying my gap year. Y’know, the outdoors and everything, I guess,” Diane answered lamely. But Emily only smiled, the crows feet around her eyes deepening.

“Aww, that’s real nice. The furthest I’ve traveled is Orlando. I’d miss my cats too much to leave for long. And my roses. My Bobby, however, has been all over the place. He used to be a pilot.”

Diane learned a lot about Emily Callaway during that car ride. Too much, even, but by the end of the car ride, the old Southern lady charm had gotten to her. After all, Emily seemed to just be some lovely, retired old lady who had rose bushes and cats for kids, and whose weekend plans consisted of church events and birdwatching trips. Her husband sounded nice, too. The entire conversation brought an empty sort of homesickness out of Diane’s chest, and she found herself really looking forward to that call with her mom.

Fortunately, it only took a half hour to get to Emily’s house. On the outskirts of Miami, she lived in a pale yellow mobile home with rose bushes lining the fence. Oranges littered the grass around a small tree. As soon as she offered Diane a serving of dinner, she nearly jumped at the chance.

“I- Sure, sure, I’d love to. Thanks so much.”
“Oh, it’s no problem, honey. Bobby is probably worried sick, anyway,” Emily answered, waving the thanks away as the two walked up the driveway. She swatted away one of the flies buzzing above a rotting fruit.

“Bobby? We’ve got a guest for dinner tonight, darling.” She exclaimed after opening the door, ushering Diane in after her. She tugged at the neckline of her Portland University sweatshirt, the muggy air beginning to take its toll.

As soon as she walked inside, though, she immediately stopped in her tracks. Maybe three yards away, a greyed and weathered corpse of a man sat in an armchair. Dozens of flies buzzed around him, just the smell of rot making Diane gag.

Emily, unbothered, kissed the body’s temple before heading into the kitchen. “Now do you want one piece, or two?”