A Discord server I am on is trying to get together daily micro fiction prompts, and I volunteered to come up with a picture prompt for Thursday. First, finding good pictures to use as a prompt is a lot harder than I thought, but I finally found one that sparked my imagination (after all, if I give the prompt, I suppose I should answer it!) Second, what I thought would just be a drabbled turned into a 1400 word story!
I figured I wanted to give my readers more stories, and thought you might appreciate something longer than my usual ultra short fare. Its my attempt at writing something humorous and meant to just be fun, so please forgive the brevity; I only put a light editorial polish on it.
Toby rounded the corner of the house and hopped up onto the porch—then stopped dead in his tracks. A grizzled old man sat in a rocking chair on the far end, wreathed in a cloud of smoke from his pipe and squinting angrily down the dirt road. More impressive than the old kilt the man wore was the antique blunderbuss he clutched in his gnarled hands. The old man looked angry as a snake and loaded for bear. Two mangy old hounds lay at his feet.
Toby eased his way across the porch and quickly slipped in through the screen door. He sighed in relief. “What on earth is up with Grandpap this time?” he asked, snaking a hand into the cookie jar.
Cousin Ailene, her frizzy red hair pulled back in a messy bun to keep it out of the bread dough she was kneading on the counter, glanced up. “Don’t eat too many of those, Young Man. You’ll ruin your dinner.”
Toby popped the last of the stolen sweet into his mouth. He hooked a thumb across his shoulder to the door. “So what’s going on?”
Ailene snorted. “Your Aunt Sarah has gone a ‘sparkin’ Mr. O’Donald and Grandpap isn’t taking kindly to it.”
Toby frowned. “Mr. O’Donald from the dry goods store? I thought Grandpap liked him well enough. At least as well as he likes anyone. He always gave Grandpap a good fight over the price of his goods, anyway, and Grandpap always has liked someone who’d argue with him.”
“He did, until Tom asked Sarah to the spring fling down at the community hall today. Grandpap is mighty protective of his daughter.”
“But Aunt Sarah is 62!”
Ailene shook her head. “Yup, and this is why she’s still an old maid. Every man who has ever shown an interest has had to face Grandpap and Old Betty. As far as Grandpap is concerned, ain’t no man good enough for his Sarah. Especially since your Aunt Sarah didn’t tell Grandpap until she was in the car. Tom put it in gear and they spun outta here before Grandpap could say a word, but it’s left him madder than a badger on a tear.”
The two old hounds suddenly howled a warning. Toby glanced through the screen door. “Whelp, things are about to get real interesting then,” he grinned at his cousin. “Cause here comes Mr. O’Donald’s car now!”
“Oh my!” Ailene rounded the counter, wiping her hands on her apron, and leaned down to see through the kitchen window.
The old Chevy came to a stop several yards away from the porch. The car’s doors opened. Aunt Sarah, dressed in her finest gingham dress, her gray hair pulled neatly back under her cloche hat, climbed out and rounded to the front of the car. Tom O’Donald stood to his feet, but didn’t come out from behind the door. He and Sarah exchanged glances before facing the stern old man.
“Now Daddy, there’s no need to be angry here.”
“Derned if there’s not! You’s sneaking out from under my very nose to take up with the likes of him!” Grandpap aimed his gun at the car and O’Donald ducked down lower.
Aunt Sarah stepped in front of him. “Daddy! Tom O’Donald is an upstanding man of the community! You’ve even said so yourself! A right fine man, you said!”
“That was until he tried to steal my daughter!”
“Sir, your daughter is a lovely woman and I only want the best for her!”
“Danged if you do, you varmint! You scoundrel! Turning my Sarah’s head with pretty talk! You rotten hound dog! You get outta my yard and away from my daughter!”
Grandpap pulled the trigger. The old gun’s powerful blast knocked him back against the cabin’s wall and nearly off his feet. Toby slapped his hands against his ears, wincing at the deafening sound. The hounds wailed and ducked beneath the porch while the chickens in the yard cackled in fright and scattered for the woods. Aunt Sarah screamed. Mr. O’Donald shouted and dove back into his car. The pellets peppered the bushes beside him.
Grandpap steadied his footing and reached into the ammunition case on his belt while cracking the shotgun open. “You got until I get Old Betty here reloaded to get goin’ or the next shot is going to pepper yourn hide!”
Toby watched the scene in slack-jawed fascination. Aunt Sarah scurried around to the driver’s door to check on her beau, then looked up at the porch. Her face darkened and pinched in anger, making her look very much like Grandpap. She stomped across the yard to face the old man, coming toe to toe and nose to nose with him.
She shoved the shotgun away. “Now you listen here! I’ve been waiting’ my whole life for the right man to come along, spent my youth teaching in that there schoolhouse and watching all my cousins and then my cousin’s kids all grow up and go off and get married and wondering if I’d ever get a turn. Well, Mr. O’Donald has come along and is a good man and treats me kindly and dab blame it, Daddy, you ain’t gonna mess this up for me! Not this time!”
Grandpap opened his mouth in protest, but Aunt Sarah was having none of it. She actually bellied him back against the wall. “Now you either calm down and act like a gentleman, or...or I’m gonna run off to Virginia and elope with him tonight! You here me?”
Grandpap’s face paled. “You wouldn’t dare!”
Aunt Sarah glared back. “Oh you bet I would!”
The old man looked into her eyes, then glanced over her shoulder at the shopkeeper who tentatively peaked around the car door. He looked back at Sarah. “But he’s awful wimpy there. Just look at him, hiding away instead of facing me!”
“You tried to shoot him and he doesn’t have a gun! That’s prudence, not cowardice!”
“Well, why doesn’t he have a gun in there! How’s he supposed to protect you?”
“Cause we just came back from a church dinner and he was hoping to have a civil conversation with you, not get into a fire fight!”
“Well, why didn’t he man up and come ask me if you could go!”
“Cause I’m a grown woman and we knew you’d overreact!”
“I ain’t over-reactin’!”
“What do you call shooting at a man who simply looks at me favorably?”
Toby leaned into the screen of the door, trying to get a better look. A mulish look crossed Grandpap’s face but Aunt Sarah wasn’t having none of it. “Now you either put that gun away and let him come up here and ask you for my hand all proper like, and you say yes sir and then we all go in to have dinner, or so help me, I’m going to a judge in Virginia tonight.”
Grandpap studied her face for a long moment, then finally slumped back and set the shotgun’s butt on the porch. “Fine,” he muttered. He leaned around her. “Well? What are you hiding back there for? Get on up here and ask me what you want to ask me, and let’s get on in the house!”
Mr. O’Donald quickly shut the door and jog across the yard to the porch.
Ailene shook her head in wonder. “She finally did it; Sarah finally stood up to him!” She rubbed her forehead. “This will need a bigger dinner than I’d planned! Quick—head back home and tell your momma what’s happened and to get over here on the double! I need help and we’ve got a weddin’ to plan for!”
“Yes ma’am!” Toby ducked back out the screen door and slipped down the porch to peek in the front room window. Grandpap sat in the old armchair by the fireplace, glowering but listening to Aunt Sarah and Mr. O’Donald sitting on the settee across from him. Things looked to be stable, but he figured he’d better get Ma and Pa here, just in case. He jumped down to the yard, scattering the chickens again. The old hounds climbed out from under the porch and watched him with wagging tails but he paid them no mind. He took off down the path toward home.
He’d better hurry—no tellin’ what Grandpap would do if he changed his mind!
I was lowkey hoping the hounds would leap into action somehow but that ending was too sweet to be mad about it. Felt like a proper front porch fairytale.