Free Pieces of Ivy by Dean Covin Page A

remained beside his wife. There was a loud, angry man’s voice in the background. The view swung around to a woman yelling at a man, who was not named Earl .
    There were more voices out of view, which were finally overtaken by the mayor. Then another woman’s voice cried out.
    Raped by a tree?
    A thunderous bang filled the room as inaudible screams came from the back. The screen jostled, filling with a puffy hand swinging past stretched-denim-clad thighs, then rounding up a fat-rolled back framed by a yellow-flowered sundress. The screen crested above her enormous hat to show the rampant blur of a crazed female ignoring the exploding wood and molding spraying at her from walls and the open doorframe behind her as gunshots overtook the now terrified screams in the crowd. Sheriff Roscoe could be heard barking commands to lay down their firearms.
    The video fought to steady in its frame as the wild woman’s cries trumped all other sound.
    “ What have you done? How could you ?”
    Her cry managed to increase even further. “ You deserve what is coming! You deserve what is coming! You —”
    They watched the shaky mass of two large men tackle the woman’s unfocused form to the ground. She flailed wildly and was immediately released by the recoiling men, as if she were a rabid creature and her madness contagious. The sheriff’s voice called for her to stop, but she turned and vanished through the dark frame of the splintered door.
    “Who is she?” Vicki asked.
    “The witch.”

Thirteen
    Hank straightened. “The what ?”
    “The assembly was so shaken after she left that it disbanded early.” Roscoe kept the conversation between Vicki and him. “Besides, I had to issue firearm discharge fines.”
    “Lethal hostility warrants a fine ?”
    “You have to understand”—the generally overconfident sheriff offered a cautious look—“there are … sensitivities.” He read their indifference. “She scared the hell out of those folks. Don’t blame them. Blame the government.”
    “The government ?” Vicki asked.
    “They let fools carry and conceal. How do you expect armed idiots to behave when someone like her crashes through the door?” He glanced at Hank, impressed by his silent attention. “Loose gun laws are either government-led population control or sanctioned Darwinism.” John Roscoe liked the power of holding a gun—he just didn’t enjoy sharing that power with the unworthy masses.
    Vicki remained unconvinced. “It was a pretty loud bang, and her voice carried, but a bit of an overreaction by the crowd, don’t you think?”
    “Not just the noise.” Roscoe muted the sound. “People were shocked because she showed up. She rarely comes out of the forest. And quite frankly, even at the best of times, she scares the hell out of people. Worse, Gerald Jeffries had claimed minutes earlier that he had heard the witch yelling dark incantations in the forest on the morning of Ivy’s death.”
    “Did you follow up?” Hank asked.
    The sheriff looked annoyed that Hank was speaking. “No point. Jeffries is only this side further from nutty than the witch is. People in this town love to make shit up about her—wears thin after a while.”
    Intrigued, Vicki asked, “You said she rarely comes out of the forest. Why does she come into town?”
    “To eat small children,” Roscoe said.
    Their expressions dropped.
    He rolled his eyes. “Oh, please. She picks up deliveries, meager supplies—she’s not stealing. No one’s sure how she survives out there on her own.”
    “Isn’t it your duty to check up on her?”
    “No, it’s not.”
    “Not even to follow up on suspicions?”
    “I’m not going out there.”
    Vicki wanted to laugh but wasn’t sure he was joking. Someone stepped into the office unannounced.
    “You were up late,” Rose said to her husband. “I suppose you were jerking to porn all night.”
    “No”—he shot an accusing finger-pistol at his wife—“that would be you, my darling. I