The night was cold and silent, except for the hum of weary travelers on the distant highway. The night sky clouded over heavilyand the crisp, cold wind swept across the field in front of an old farm house that had been in Richard Jacob's family for years. This had been his daddy's house- and his daddy's daddy's house. Shadows and darkness withdrew as solitary, naked lightbulb on the front porch snapped on. The house was sat just outside the city limit signs. The paint was screaming to be redone, and the metal roof rippled and buckled with every gust of wind. As far back as Jacob could remember, this house was the landmark where everything- good or bad- took place in his life.
Richard's first memory is standing in the kitchen, watching his grandmother, Norma Jean, making Christmas cookies for Santa Claus because he insisted incessantly that he would not go to sleep until he put the plate of cookies on the table next to the fireplace. Richard still leaves the plate of cookies on the same table every year; Not because he believes in Santa anymore, bur because his son does. Richard's son, Dicky, is now only four years old.
Richard's tall silouette can be seen emerging from the large doorway. The naked lightbuld disappears behind his head- rays of light cut through his thinning brown hair, escaping into the darkness.
He buttons his dark overcoat and heads toward the gravel driveway. His highly polished leather soled loafers click on the cracked cement patio. The gravel crunched under his steps toward the pale blue and rust Ford pick-up truck. He stops and looks up to the second floor window where he sees a flashlight come on and the beam cuts through the darkness straight to the hood of the pick-up truck. The unsteady four year old hands pointed the beam erratically and then stablize as the beam points straight up. A small round face splits the beam of light as it races toward the ceiling. Richard looked toward the old dirt road. A pair of headlights lead a cloud of dust toward the driveway, as Richard climbed into the pick-up.
As he started the pick-up, Richard waved to the figure behind the steering wheel of the dark sedan that just came to a stop next to him. The figure raised a slender hand in response. The government license plates made it quite clear that this was a law enforcement vehicle. The round face in the second story window suddenly had wide eyes and the word, "Mommy" could be seen formed with his lips. The light, the face and the pick-up were now all gone from sight. The "Mommy" figure got out the sedan and moved slowly toward the house with complete disdain in her movements. Long wisps of blond hair trailed from beneathe a dark knit cap- fine golden threads seen only as she approached the porch- the naked light bulb watching her as she stepped onto the porch. The screen door creaked heavily on its hinges and slammed hard as she disappeared into the house.
