Come the Spring ~ Excerpt

Part One

For winter’s rains and ruins are over,
And all the seasons of snows and sins;

But for the grace of God and an untied shoelace, she would have died with the others that day. She walked into the bank at precisely two forty-five in the afternoon to close her account, deliberately leaving the task until the last possible minute because it made everything so final in her mind. There would be no going back. All of her possessions had been packed, and very soon now she would be leaving Rockford Falls, Montana, forever.

Sherman MacCorcle, the bank president, would lock the doors in fifteen minutes. The lobby was filled with other procrastinators like herself, yet for all the customers, there were only two tellers working the windows instead of the usual three. Emmeline MacCorkle, Sherman’s daughter, was apparently still at home recovering from the influenza that has swept through the peaceful little town two weeks before.

Malcom Watterson’s line was shorter by three heads. He was a notorious gossip, though, and would surely ask her questions she wasn’t prepared to answer.

Fortunately Franklin Carroll was working today, and she immediately took her place in the back of his line. He was quick, methodical, and never intruded into anyone’s personal affairs. He was also a friend. She had already told him good-bye after services last Sunday, but she had the sudden inclination to do so again.

She hated waiting. Tapping her foot softly against the warped floorboards, she took her gloves off, then put them on again. Each time she fidgeted, her purse, secured by a satin ribbon around her wrist, swung back and forth, back and forth, like a pendulum keeping perfect time to the ticktock of the clock hanging on the wall behind the tellers’ window.

The man in front of her took a step forward, but she stayed where she was, hoping to put some distance between them so that she wouldn’t have to smell the sour sweet mixed with the pungent odor of fried sausage emanating from his filthy clothes.

The man to her left in Malcom’s line smiled at her, letting her see the two missing teeth in the center of his grin. To discourage conversation, she gave him a quick nod and turned her gaze upward to the water stains on the ceiling.

It was dank, musty, and horribly hot. She could feel the perspiration gathering at the nape of her neck and tugged on the collar of her starched blouse. Giving Franklin a sympathetic glance, she wondered how any of the employees could work all day in such a dark, gloomy, stifling tomb. She turned to the right and stared longingly at the three closed windows. Sunlight streaked through the finger-smudged glass, casting jagged splotches on the worn floorboards, and fragments of the dust particles hung suspended in the stagnant air. If she had to wait much longer, she would incite Sherman MacCorkle’s anger by marching over to the windows and throwing all of them open. She gave up the idea as soon as it entered her mind because the president would only close them again and give her a stern lecture about bank security. Besides, she would lose her place in line.


Continue Reading ~ Excerpt for Come the Spring