The Spirit of Lana Jones

It would have been a good day had it not been so hot.

Lana Jones sat with her legs crossed on the front porch and wiped her brow again with the back of her hand, which came off slick with sweat and dirt. She didn't mind, really, because a little dirt on her hand was a lot worse than sweat in her eye, and before long she would have to clean up anyway. Sam King would be by in an hour to court her.

It would have been a good day because her ma was off in Graham visiting with her Aunt Sally, and when Ma was gone the chores didn't get done. Lana, if she was thinking--which she tried not to do very often, for doing it made her feel sad--would have figured that a day would be harder with Ma gone, rather than easier, because without the two of them to do the work, Lana should have been extra busy. But her pa didn't seem to mind whether or not the chores got done. As long as Lana could whip up three good meals, he stayed in a decent mood.

She didn't see him that much anyway--after breakfast he left the house to work the corn and tend their small cattle herd and rarely came back to the house except for dinner and supper. Lana knew her pa wasn't a happy man, and supposed that was because she was his daughter and not his son. A son could have worked in the field and carried the family name, but Lana was the first child, and there had been none afterwards. She had ruined her Ma's womb. It was because of her that pa had no son.

Just then, she heard a series of squeaks and rattles, and then Tike, their black horse, emerged from behind the house, pulling the wagon behind him. Her pa lightly worked the reins.

"I'm goin' into town," he said, "to sell these eggs." He jerked his thumb over his shoulder, indicating the bundles in the wagon. "I reckon I won't be back 'till after dark, with your mother gone and all."

"Sure, Pa," Lana said.

"Be sweet to Sam King. He's a good boy, and he'd make a fine husband."

"I imagine he would," Lana agreed with no conviction.

Her pa rode away then, down their stretch of dirt towards the main road. Dust followed him in a red cloud. When he was out of sight, Lana got up from her chair and walked around to the back of the house. The heat baked off the dusty ground, and Lana wiped her brow again. Cicadas screamed their scratchy songs, and grasshoppers flew upwards in a swarm as she trudged through the tall grass. When she made it around to the back of the house, Lana stopped and looked at the hard, blue sky. Her eyes widened.

There was a storm coming.

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