Swift Ashen Mirages
Sometimes Sarah would walk through the fields for hours,
only returning to the Ohio farmhouse when she was hungry,
or tired, or just lonely. And on her way home she would often
visit the family cemetery with its dark windows to the past. Swift ashen mirages seemed to reveal themselves upon the tablets of the tombstones, providing a glimpse into the life of Theresa Inman and the Inman family – her Inman family.
Aunt Ruth had told her the stories of Theresa and her husband Willy Inman the cattle trader. When Willy got drunk one night, he had bitten off another man’s ear. Back then they didn’t often settle this sort of thing in court, and $600 was an awful lot of money to make things right during the depression.
“Hello, down there,” Sarah said to each of her deceased ancestors, touching their gravestones gingerly. “What will it be like when I’m dead? Will you be able to tell me all about your lives when I’m down there with you?”
Sarah closed her eyes and imagined being six feet underground.