Distant

I only pray when the frogs stop croaking at night. The foul silence that falls after their bombastic chorus makes my neck go cold with fear. There is something that lives outside in the fields beyond my farm. Something that takes sick delight in having been forgotten by everyone else in this god forsaken town. No one believed me when I mentioned the fields going silent in the night. Their eyes blanked as if to say “Harris, you sweet thing, this is why we don’t invite you to bingo,” as if I wanted to go anyway.

It hadn’t been difficult to get up and move out of the city after my job offered me the chance to work remote. I had dreamed of living in Hopsly since I vacationed here as a kid with my family. I knew it was a small town, but I hadn’t realized how insular it was. That was a mistake I tried to correct by frequenting the Red Elk, a bar good for cheap Miller High Life and the world’s dingiest dart board. Still, I had hoped to make at least one friend. That was partially fulfilled by my semi-regular drinking partner, Arthur Stanton, the local radio host. Arthur had gone off to LA to work in film, but fled back to Hopsly after an unfortunate incident involving an up and coming starlet and a mistaken laxative dose. Arthur had a melodic voice, but it frayed at the edges after a couple drinks, which was a now daily case.

“Have you heard anything about an escaped cougar or anything? I asked Arthur.

“Why are you asking me? I don’t know anything about wilderness stuff.”

“But you are in the news, right? Isn’t that the sort of thing that is broadcasted to the public, for like safety?”

“Harris, I play Fleetwood Mac and Woody Guthrie. The closest I come to delivering the news is when I have to mention the next George Strait concert. Why? You think there’s a cougar roaming around town? You gonna tell me her name?” Arthur gave a swarmy grin. He had a penchant for experienced woman.

“Ew, no. It’s nothing. Just thought there was an animal around my place the other night.”

“You’re out by Alconda Ridge, right? Could be an off-season bear rattling through. Would be a bit unlikely though.”

“Maybe… I couldn’t find any tracks for it. But it cut the frogs off dead silent. Really freaked me out.”

“I’ll tell you what, if you hear that again, you go ahead and give me a call at the station. I’ll see if I can make an announcement this one time.” I smiled and clinked my glass against his.

“I appreciate that. Hopefully it’s just nothing.”

***

I woke up to broken glass on the ground and myself splayed across it. I tried to turn to look around but my neck shrieked with pain. A small pool of blood had gathered next to where my head had laid. I started looking for my phone. I had to call Arthur— the town was in danger.

***

“You alright, Mister Connall? You took quite a nasty fall the other day. I’m glad to report that the stitches required were minimal and you should heal up without too much scarring.” A dour man in a white coat said as he scribbled as a clipboard.

“Scarring? Why would there be scarring?”

“Because of the glass, Mister Connall. It’s common to also have some disorientation after such a heavy collision. I would advise lessening the alcohol intake for the time being. Both for prudence and safety’s sake.”

“I was drinking?” The memories came back in a hazy fog. I had returned home, but something hadn’t been right. The door to my home had been open. I knew I had wanted to call Arthur immediately, but wasn’t sure I had.

“A fair amount, if the blood tests are correct” he gave a wry smile “And they always are.”

I rubbed my face, hoping to remember more from the night. “Did Arthur come by yet?”

“Our famous Mr. Stanton? Oh yes, he was here earlier this morning. He seemed frantic, but that’s the mark of a true friend, now isn’t it?”

“I guess? Can you call him back? I think I was supposed to talk to him.”

“I’m afraid that won’t be possible at this time. We need you to rest up before we can dismiss you from our care. It wouldn’t do to have you take another fall from preventable exhaustion.”

“Tomorrow then?” I asked, hoping he couldn’t hear the tightness in my chest. I couldn’t wait to talk to Arthur.

The doctor begin to fiddle with my IV as he pursed his lips “I’m sure we will revisit this tomorrow. For now, I’d like you to rest.”

The room began to grow fuzzy as I started fading. As the promise of sleep drifted near, I remembered a distant fear run through my body. I hoped my door would be closed when I returned home, although I couldn’t remember why.

With a gentle creep of rest— I heard a distant croaking and breathed easy.