Free Deep Blue by Yolanda Olson Page B

mashed potatoes, and broccoli alone at the table. Truth be told, I didn’t care much for chicken or broccoli, but I also didn’t want to piss him off. Once I cleaned my plate, I took it over to the sink and turned on the water. I reached over toward the stove and made sure it was off, while I waited for the water to become the temperature I wanted.
    With a sigh, I ran the plate under the water letting the fork and knife clatter into the sink. I reached for the dish washing liquid and grabbed the sponge. I busied myself scrubbing the plate clean before placing it on the dish rack, followed by the knife and the fork. I was just about to turn the water off, when Troy slid his dirty plate and utensils in the sink. I jumped because normally his boots gave away whether he was coming or going and I didn’t hear them. I was too far off in my own little world of nothing.
    Clearing my throat, I grabbed his plate and scrubbed it clean, then the fork, then the knife. The same as I had done with mine. It was weird not to have him hover over me. He literally dropped his stuff in the sink and walked away from me.
    What’s his deal?
    “Hey,” I called out, turning off the faucet. I walked quickly out of the kitchen into the living room, to find him halfway out the door. He stopped at the sound of my voice and turned part way to look at me.
    “What’s up?” I asked him tilting my head and crossing my arms over my chest.
    “Nothing. I was just gonna go for a walk in the fields. Make sure everything’s growing the way it’s supposed to,” he replied with a shrug.
    “Oh,” I replied suspiciously.
    “I’ll be back in a few hours. The place is bigger than it looks,” he said, letting the door slam shut behind him.
    I ran back into the kitchen and glanced out the window. I knew that if he was telling the truth, at some point I would see him from where I was.
    It couldn’t have been mere seconds that passed by before he walked past the window and disappeared into the fields. The stalks of corn were so high up and plentiful, that it left me wondering where the hell the barley was that he had talked about.
    When I couldn’t seem him anymore I got frustrated. I don’t know why; it just felt like if I couldn’t keep my eyes on him he might leave and not come back. I know that sounds childish, but in a sick and twisted way, Troy was my safe place.
    I slapped the windowsill angrily and walked out of the house. I couldn’t understand what was coming over me, but I didn’t want to be alone anymore and seeing him would calm me down. I walked outside and toward the back of the house because I remembered a ladder being propped against the backside of the house.
    I gripped it on either side and made sure it was firmly planted and began to climb up. Even though it was a one level farm house and I wasn’t sure I’d be able to see him too well , I knew I’d be able to see him somewhat and that was better than not at all.
    Once I made it to the top, I almost lost my footing and accidentally kicked the ladder to the ground. Fuck! Now how am I going to get down?
    I’d worry about that later I decided as I moved to the center of the roof. I turned in all directions, glancing around the farm land trying to catch a glimpse of Troy. Like clockwork, the irrigation systems started up all over his land.
    And that’s what got my attention honestly. I looked around at each one and noticed one moving, like it was being pushed by something, or someone.
    What the hell? I thought squinting at it. I put a hand over my brow to rid myself of the sun’s glare as it continued to move. But what was moving it and why?
    Suddenly as it started to slowly come out of the shadows of the field, I felt myself becoming sick. I wasn’t exactly sure if I was seeing what I thought I was, but it looked like people were hanging from that one. Not by their necks, by their wrists being bound together and hooked on.
    As it moved closer and closer to an old, large seemingly