The Front Porch Prophet

Louise cast her eyes upon this banished remnant of the rites of autumn and decided he was the finest man she had ever seen, which wasn’t saying much, considering what all she had seen. As usual, her instinct about men had failed. Louise was a moral woman, and all of the many souls who had visited her personal valley of paradise had first had to acquire title to the tract. So she married Skim Murdock in short order and moved him into her happy home, a well-kept trailer house sitting just across the Southern Railway line.

Cyndi had the misfortune to be an early bloomer, and by the time the honeymoon was over, Skim began to notice that she had flowered quite nicely, indeed. Unbeknownst to Louise, who worked the second shift over at the glove mill, Skim began to make improper advances upon Cyndi. Thus it came to pass that Cyndi was forced to gain carnal experience at the hands of her newest stepfather. Louise was blissfully unaware of the family dynamic she had created, so Cyndi determined her best course was to run away. Late one night right after she turned fifteen, Cyndi made her break. She had only walked about forty feet, however, when her small plan evolved into a grand scheme that held permanent solutions.

In front of her, the drunken and immobile form of Skim Murdock was draped across the Southern Railway line. He had apparently decided to have a few drinks before coming home and had been thirstier than he thought. Cyndi looked at her watch and noted that the coal train was due. Time being a luxury granted the young, she sat down, reached into her rucksack for a Coke, and calmly sipped while she waited. She loved trains and suspected she would absolutely adore this one. It was quiet except for the crickets and the snores of Skim. In the distance she heard the thrum of her salvation.

As the train neared its target, the victim began to stir. He was feeling the vibrations through the steel ribbons. The engines came around the bend and bathed his form in bright light. The engineer saw the body on the tracks and applied the brakes as he began to blow the horns repeatedly. The lights and noise roused Skim from his stupor, and he saw his predicament. Then he saw Cyndi, who appeared to be taking a drink of Coke.

“Goddamn it, girl, help me,” he roared at her as he attempted to gain his hands and knees. It has been noted that young girls do not always know their own minds, but Cyndi knew exactly what she wanted, and Skim knew it, too, as their eyes met for the final time. She reared back and chunked the Coke bottle at him, and he screamed when it hit his forehead. The scene was ghostly as the train slid past with horns blaring and sparks flying. Skim was frozen in the harsh glare, and then he was gone, given a boost down the highway to hell courtesy of Southern Railway, Jim Beam, Coca-Cola, and Cyndi.

The freight train finally stopped about a mile down the tracks. Most of Skim had reaped the whirlwind, but enough was found to bury, although pieces of an unlucky raccoon were irretrievably mixed in with him. Cyndi removed the Coke bottle from the small pile of remains before they were shoveled into the bucket. It was a keepsake marking the best time she had ever had with Skim. All in all, no one seemed to be much upset over the incident except Louise. Fortunately, she got over her loss fairly quickly with the help of a grave digger from Boaz who took a shine to her at Skim’s funeral based mostly on how nice she looked in those tight, white jeans. Time heals most wounds, and love will find a way.

Cyndi turned wild and acquired the reputation for being bountiful with her indulgences, a relative rarity in a culture where milk was seldom dispensed without prior cow purchase. So she was popular, but her full dance card brought her no joy. She was punishing Louise, God, and herself, but neither of the first two seemed to take much notice.

Cyndi’s salvation arrived in the form of a five-pound, seven-ounce baby girl whom she named Hope. She didn’t know who the baby’s father was, but it didn’t matter, because they were all pretty much the same anyway. What counted was her determination that the child never know the trials Cyndi had known. So she gave up her wanton ways and set about the business of raising her daughter.