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    Eyes Drift Back
    Eyes Drift Back
    Eyes Drift Back
    Ebook82 pages1 hour

    Eyes Drift Back

    By Peter Englebright

    ()

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    About this ebook

    A surreal psychological battle over ownership of a house takes place between a divorced couple and their pawns.

    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherFirewood Books
    Release dateAug 7, 2015
    ISBN9781513043623
    Eyes Drift Back

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      Book preview

      Eyes Drift Back - Peter Englebright

      Chapter 1

      Julia, a proper, proud lady in her forties, is sitting in a red bathrobe at the dinner table in the middle of her large kitchen.  She is reading a paperback book as she sips her tea.

      Something disturbs the right peripheral of her vision.

      She turns her head to look out the open backdoor.  The tiny green grass garden abruptly stops and becomes a brown-yellow wheat field.  A hill rises up beyond the field with a large tree dominating the distant landscape.

      In the wheat field stands a man.  The wheat is uncommonly tall so only his chest, shoulders and cap-covered head can be seen.  He is facing away from Julia with a rifle behind his neck over both his shoulders.  His wrists are draped over it, giving him the appearance of a scarecrow.

      She puts down the book and stands.  She walks to the doorframe and watches in silence as he takes the rifle off his shoulders and aims it at the tree on the rise beyond the wheat.

      There is a crack that breaks the stillness of the scene.  There are no telltale signs of noise, or a spray of woodchips, to tell if the bullet hit the distant tree. 

      He keeps pointing his gun at it.

      Eventually the tree begins to totter and fall forwards.  It lands on the ground, snapped in half where the bullet hit.

      He has killed a tree that is many years older than he is.

      He drops the rifle from his face.

      Julia checks her bathrobe is tightly tied at her waist and that she is presentable looking in a rectangular mirror that hangs by the doorframe.  She touches up her hair and puts a loose curl behind her ear.

      She calls out with surprising volume that cuts into the distance to reach the figure in the field.  ‘What are you doing?’

      The man hears something.  He turns around to see a woman standing in the doorway of the house.  He waves at her.  She doesn’t wave back.

      He walks through the high wheat towards her house.

      He exits the field and steps onto the grass of her small garden.  The rifle is in his left hand by his side.  They stand looking at each other.  She is in an elevated position as there are five stone steps separating the kitchen from the ground.

      He takes his cap off before addressing her and stuffs it into the brown cracked leather satchel on his right hip.  ‘Sorry to startle you.  I didn’t figure anybody would be home at this time of day.  I was expecting to have to hang around for an hour or so before you got back.’

      ‘Who are you?’

      He steps forward to close the gap between them and holds his hand out high in the air for her to shake.  ‘I’m David Ridgeland.  At your service ma’am.’

      She doesn’t move to take his hand.  He becomes aware of the awkward moment that’s developing as he feels exposed as the weaker part of this exchange.  He drops his hand in embarrassment.

      ‘I’m here to deliver legal papers.  You are Julia right?  I’ve been sent to get your signature on them today.’ 

      She doesn’t respond.

      He puts his right hand into the satchel on his hip.  He pulls out a thick document of A4 papers.  The front and back pages are blue; the paper sandwiched in between is white.  It is bound with a black piece of plastic on the top.

      He holds it out for her to take from him.

      Again she doesn’t move.

      ‘What are these for?’

      He decides not to be embarrassed a second time by this woman.  She didn’t have to take his hand, but she’ll have to take these papers.  Even if it means holding them out like this for an absurd amount of time.

      They hold their positions.

      After about fifteen seconds she cracks.  She leans forward and snatches them from his raised hand.

      She speed reads the first two pages of tiny type.  She looks back at him.  ‘This means nothing to me.  What does it say?’

      ‘My understanding is that your husband wants his house back.’

      ‘On what grounds?’

      ‘I was told you might ask that.  I was told to say, Page seventeen.’

      She gives him a long, unfriendly stare then screws her mouth up in distaste.  She then turns her attention back to the legal papers and lifts it over to page seventeen.  She reads the page slowly in a futile attempt to comprehend what the legal gobbledegook means.  She gives up in confusion, and instead turns around and roughly throws the document onto the dinner table behind her.  The pages crease as they land poorly.  This delights her as much as any legal document is ever likely to do so.

      ‘You might as well come in then,’ she says with a resigned sigh.  ‘It could take me a few hours to go through it with my lawyer.’

      ‘That’s okay.  I don’t want to intrude.’

      ‘It’s alright.  I’m not a vindictive person.  Unlike my husband.’  She theatrically spits onto the grass after mentioning him.  ‘I don’t shoot messengers.  That’s not to say I like them.  But I recognise they’re just cogs in something bigger.’

      ‘In that case it’s very kind of you to offer.’

      ‘I assume that’s why you brought your gun along with you.  To kill some time.’

      ‘Yeah, but I’m happy to put the gun away and give you some peace.’

      ‘Plenty of peace around here.  Wind and wheat are about all there is for most of the days and nights.  My ex-husband hates this place.  He grew up here.  Hates the countryside.  Couldn’t wait to become a big hotshot lawyer

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