Free The Pumpkin Man by John Everson

back. He took his place behind the deli near what appeared to be the store’s only cash register.
    â€œWe’re just picking up supplies,” Jenn said, and turned away from him into one of the aisles. She hated it when salespeople watched her shop. It was like they were just waiting for her to stick something in her purse.
    â€œWe got plenty of those,” the man replied. “We get a lot of hikers and campers out this way.”
    â€œOh, we’re not camping,” Kirstin volunteered. “We just moved here from Chicago.”
    â€œReally,” the proprietor said, suddenly looking more interested. “Well, my name’s Travis.” He held out a hand. “Travis Lupe. I’d be happy to give you the lay of the land if you’ve got any questions.”
    Kirstin walked up and shook his hand. Then she leaned an elbow on the white Formica countertop, affording Travis an easy glimpse down her loose, low-cut T-shirt. Cleavage bought Kirstin a lot, and she never hesitated to use it.
    â€œIs there anything to do around here at night?” she asked, raising an eyebrow hopefully.
    â€œWell, um . . .” Travis stammered, clearly caught between his desire to look down her shirt and trying to focus on Kirstin’s question. “There’s a fish fry over at the Bowery House on Friday nights. And once in a while a band comes up and plays Casey’s, the bar on Fourth Street. If you want music, though, you really need to drive over to Santa Rosa or down to Point Reyes Station. The Saloon there has a lot of bands that come up from San Francisco. Or you can just hop on the 101 and go down to San Francisco. Kind of a hike for just a night out, but people do it.”
    â€œSo, what do you do for fun?” Kirstin asked.
    â€œI like to read,” he replied. His face flushed a little, and Kirstin stifled a smile. It was so easy sometimes to rile men up. “A lot. And I watch a lot of movies. We rent them here at the store.” He pointed to a wall of DVDs behind the seated couple. “I’ve seen most of those, I suppose, but we get new ones in all the time if you want to rent them. There’s one called
Land of the Dead
that has some great zombies in it. I really like those
Saw
movies, too,” he volunteered. “Makes you kind of afraid to turn the lights out at night. Have you seen them?”
    â€œNah,” Kirstin said. “I don’t stay in much. Figured you’d have a couple bars and some beaches to check out at least.”
    â€œBars? Well, I don’t know if Casey’s is going to be your speed,” Travis admitted, risking an obvious glance at her breasts, “butthey’ll be glad to see you. And there are more rocks than beach here, but plenty of water. Where are you staying?”
    Kirstin pointed at Jenn. “We’re at her aunt Meredith’s place up at the top of the hill. She inherited it a couple weeks ago, so we thought we’d spend some time here, see if we liked it.”
    Travis flinched. Across the room, the old man set his newspaper down.
    â€œMeredith Perenais?” Travis asked.
    Jenn walked up behind Kirstin with a roll of paper towels and a box of corn flakes. She’d been following the conversation, amused that Kirstin couldn’t enter a room without stalking anything male that happened to be there. “Yeah,” she said. “Did you know her?”
    When she extended her hand and gave her name, the clerk shrugged and gave a feeble shake. “Everyone knows everyone here—at least a little bit,” he said.
    A deeper voice came from across the room. “You planning on staying here long?”
    It was the man at the table, and Jenn realized the old couple was staring intently at her. “We don’t know yet,” she said.
    â€œWell, don’t,” the old man advised. The pale blue of his eyes flashed like ice. “You go back to where you came from and live a happy