[Fiction]

[Execution Cover]

April, 1987: A Vision at Work

An Excerpt from Execution, Texas: 1987

"We're closing soon, Mrs. Remington." Seeger smiled apologetically at the store's only customer. Eva's Craft Cottage sat on the corner of Execution's newest glassed-in strip mall. The wall opposite Seeger and behind his customer afforded a panoramic view of the freeway offramp leading into Execution. Past Mrs. Remington's shoulders, Seeger watched red taillights glide in and out of town.

"Oh, Seeger honey," she sighed. "Don't y'all have those new puffy paints? The Day-Glo ones with glitter?"

Seeger checked the digital clock under the counter: 5:55. "Just what you see out there," he said. "If you want, I can ask Eva to order some."

"Oh, no, don't go to no trouble. Let me piddle around a sec more and I'll pick something out."

Seeger shrugged and picked up the list he'd worked out on a pad of Eva's Craft Cottage stationery. Bonnet-wearing geese marched across in columns labeled Yes and No.

All break he talked to me. Seeger checked the Yes column.

He invited me and LaTonia over for lunch since his older sister and parents were all in Dallas at her pre-grad luncheon thing at private school: Yes.

He imitated the Dallas policemen arresting AIDS protesters, complete with trout-shaped oven mitts for surgical gloves: Big Yes.

Persistent eye contact:: Scary Yes.

Seeger examined the empty No column.

OK, he's dated Francie, Lori, and that Band girl who got kicked in the face by a horse. A No for each?

I've dated Cordelia for six months, he thought guiltily.

Let's just say, No for Excessive Heterosexuality.

What about how he listens to rap music all the time?

Mrs. Remington sniffed. Seeger looked up, startled. "Studying?" she asked. Seeger nodded. "Still got time to teach ceramics Thursday? We're always plump tickled having a young person there."

Seeger nodded, blushing, and crammed the list under the counter. He rang up Mrs. Remington. Holding out her change, he leaned forward and smiled habitually.

"Shit!" Seeger shouted.

Outside, Abe's red pickup careened down the offramp, brakes screeching. The truck showed no sign of slowing. It flew off the asphalt and into the air above the parking lot like a plane taking off. The streetlamps silhouetted two figures in the front cab, tiny black torsos bathed in gold. Gold engulfed them as the truck exploded in midair, dazzling yellow light spraying from inside the cab and flooding the store with scorching rays.

"Young man! Hush up that tongue, now." Mrs. Remington snatched the change from Seeger's hand and huffed out of the store.

Nothing in the parking lot. Crickets. Seeger leaned over to lock the door and sat himself down in the empty store.

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