Tuesday, June 2, 2009

Trouble at the Cabin

Logan lay flat on his belly and peered down at Elmo's cabin. There was no sign of life, no sign that anybody had even been there for weeks. Logan carefully scanned the yard, the chicken coop, the outhouse that Elmo had bought from a catalog and was so proud of...nothing to indicate any humans had been around. But something nagged at Logan; he couldn't quite place it but something in the picture that lay before him wasn't quite right. Logan looked until his eyes hurt, but couldn't figure out what was causing that feeling. Slowly, he crept out of the brush and began to crawl down the slope to get nearer to the cabin. He managed to disturb a rabbit that was hidden in the brush; the rabbit scampered out toward the cabin but then made a sweeping turn and headed back up the slope. That's strange, Logan thought. A scared rabbit out to be running downhill, not up. That only added to Logan's feelings of concern. Maybe that rabbit know's something I don't, Logan thought to himself.

As Logan neared the house, he realized he was losing his cover and would be putting himself in danger by continuing to crawl. Might as well stand up, he thought. He was in the process of gathering himself up when he suddenly fell down a flat as he could and stayed motionless. That's what it is, he thought. Elmo's water bucket was on a wooden ledge by the front door. The gourd dipper handle was visible, sticking up from the bucket. Logan knew his brother Elmo would never have left that gourd in the bucket. It always hung on a nail by the door. Somebody had been there; maybe was still there and maybe had a bead on him right now, and he was helpless to do anything about it. Logan wished he was invisible like he had bragged to his brothers. Just then, Logan heard the faint sound of voices. Two people were coming up the road to the cabin. They would pass within a few feet of Logan. Logan knew he had about 10 seconds to figure out what to do.

1 comment:

  1. I think it's time for you to consider writing a REAL book. Lots of famous authors drive strange trucks....Looks like Sandy and the gang are making the best of bad old Florida. I'm about ready to move back down there...