C4 antho - Chamber Four

~170~ The Chamber Four Fiction Anthology
freeway to make better time, darts around semis, passes the
twin stacks of the coal-fired generators at Sutherland. The
hours pass in a quiet frenzy until he rolls past Chimney Rock,
past Scottsbluff’s smoking sugar factory. He speed-dials
home, gets no answer.
By the time he gets to the house he’s hungry. The driveway’s
empty. He begins making waffles, stacking them hot
on a plate in the oven. After Dawnell drives in, she sits for a
moment, making a call on her cell phone. Wyatt watches her
study his truck and look toward the house. After a few moments
she gets out. She’s wearing white gloves and a hat with
a veil. Amy’s in a blue dress trimmed with lace. He
smiles―he’ll go to church with them from now on. He begins
thinking about all that he has to say. Minutes later, Coyd
pulls into the driveway in his patrol car.
Wyatt steps outside. “Dawnell,” he says, “what’s going
on?” Coyd steps between them.
“I want him out of here,” Dawnell says.
“Look, there’s no need,” Wyatt says. “I’m OK now. We
just need to talk.”
Coyd holds up his hand. “Put the spatula down, Wyatt,”
he says. “She’s got a protection order. Judge Davis signed it
last night. You got to be out of here.”
Wyatt’s heart jumps. He feels his fists tighten. “What the
hell, Coyd? You think I’m fixing to flip her to death?” he says.
“This is my goddamn house. Dawnell? Honey? What’s this
about?”
“Figure it out,” she says.
Coyd turns to Dawnell. “We talked about this, Dawnell.
Now get in the car.”
Dawnell turns away, pushing Amy ahead of her, climbs
inside and slams the door. Wyatt’s swollen eyeball throbs. A