Spirk (with a small dose of Pinto)

Part 3 (end of first chapter)

Jim narrowed his eyes at the short but lanky man with the moustache standing by his trash cans.

“Clyde?”

“Evening, Mr. Kirk.”

“What are you doing?” He lowered the crowbar.

“Becky called me from New York, said you had some racoon problems and to come on out and set up some traps.”

Clyde was Becky’s cousin. Didn’t have a very high IQ but he was a nice man.

Clyde stepped away from the cans. “I don’t see any signs of racoons, Mr. Kirk. But I set out traps anyhow.”

“It’s Jim. What do you see signs of?”

Clyde shrugged. “Nothing really. No signs of rats or racoons. But maybe you wouldn’t see anything specific. Traps are set now though, so I’ll come check on them in a day or two if that’s all right with you, Mr. Kirk.”

“Yeah, that’s fine.” Jim glanced around where the trash cans were and over toward the front yard. “See anything else around, Clyde?”

“Like what?”

Yeah, what, Jim? Glowing red eyes?

“I don’t really know, I guess. Anything weird I suppose.”

Clyde looked at Jim like maybe he was crazy and Jim wasn’t sure he was far off. So he smiled.

“You want a shot of whiskey for your trouble?”

“Wasn’t any trouble, but I’ll take the whiskey.”

Jim hesitated. He didn’t necessarily want Clyde in the house. He didn’t really have any issues with Clyde, but he didn’t exactly trust him either. Becky had mentioned once that her cousin sometimes stole things. Not usually from people he knew, but still.

“I’ll bring it right out,” Jim said. “You wait here.”

“I will, Mr. Kirk.”

Jim went into his house and over to his liquor cabinet. He quickly poured two shots of whiskey and then brought them back out the front door. True to his word, Clyde stood just where Jim had left him.

He handed a shot to Clyde and kept one for himself.

Clyde didn’t immediately drink the shot, but instead asked, “You and Becky going to be married someday?”

Jim wasn’t sure exactly how to answer that. For Clyde, yeah, but most especially for himself.

So he settled on the vague, “She wants to, I think.”

Clyde nodded and thew back the shot. Jim followed suit, feeling it burn down his throat.

Clyde handed the empty shot glass to Jim. “I’ll be on my way now, Mr. Kirk. I’ll check back on those traps like I said. And if you need anything else, you give me a call.

Jim called after him as he headed for his truck, “You want some money?”

“Nope, that’s all right.”

And just a few minutes later he was gone. Jim watched him until the lights from his truck faded away out of sight.

He set the shot glasses down on the porch and walked to where the pumpkins and scarecrows were. He clenched the crowbar.

Looking for what? Again, he really had no clue. And not surprisingly he didn’t see anything anyway.

With a shake of his head at his only foolishness, grabbed the glasses and went back into the house. Double locking the front door. Then he double locked the back door too.

And just before he went to sleep, he thought he heard a whisper.

“Jim.”