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Fiction Writing
An excerpt from “Blackshear,” a short story
Blackshear’s water tower began leaking on a Wednesday. Ms. Tanner noticed it first, when water laced down the street and pooled at the end of her driveway. Corey wanted to leave my house at 6:00 on Saturday night to go to take a look. And Corey could never be stopped, so I followed him out into the balmy spring evening, following the gentle lattice of water. The tower parted the curtain of fog above us.
“God, it creeps me out sometimes, Elle,” Corey said, scratching at his forearm tattoo—Crann Bethadh, the tree of life. The tower loomed only a half mile from my house, around the corner and down the street by Ms. Tanner’s backyard on a little plateau at the top of the hill. Even here in front of my house, the stream was steady, if small.
“Well, hopefully, you’ll get over that if you’re planning on going up to it,” I said. His eyes flicked up to look at mine as he propped his hiking boots on the side of the porch, looping the laces back into the hooks. The two of us started down the driveway.
“Well,” he said. “Any thoughts on why the tower is leaking?”
The thought hung between us as I balanced on the curb.
“I don’t know,” I said. “I’m a lab tech, not an engineer.”
The further up the hill we went, the more it smelled like a garden hose—copper and wet grass and early spring. Corey rubbed his nose. His gait bounced as we walked down the middle of the road in the light of the street lamps, in and out of darkness.
“Christ, it’s awful,” he said.
“It’s almost,” I said, closing my eyes and taking in the air, “nostalgic.”
“Well, I think it smells like shit,” he said, pausing for a moment before letting out the rest in a whisper. “Oh my god.”
I balanced on the cracks in the road with my toes until I nearly stepped into the pool of water at the tower’s base. When I followed the cracking yellow paint in the road with my eyes, I caught sight of the tower’s base in the fog.
Ms. Tanner’s yard had been overtaken, water standing like a moat around her house, which sat in a divot in the hill. Half an inch of water already flooded the first floor. My shoes filled as we got closer. Tanner had every right to complain about her hydrangeas like she did at the market because they were soaking up so much potable water from the tower that their petals had shriveled.
“Jesus.”
“Why hasn’t the Council done something?” Corey asked as he walked up to the fence around the tower. “You’d think they would do something about this if it’s just leaking.”
“If you try to climb that ladder, you’re going to kill yourself,” I said. “It’s falling apart.”
“Hey, it’ll add a new one to your list of weird deaths in Blackshear."
I shoved him from behind, and his hands caught on the chain link. He glanced back at me with his stupid smile. I shouldn’t have said that bit.
“I’m only kidding, Elle,” he said. “It’ll be fine. I promise.”
“We shouldn’t joke about that.”
I could hardly look at him. He had been the only one I could talk to. The feeling of his hand on my back steadying me reminded me of a tethered boat being towed around in the water.
“Sorry,” he added before letting go and turning back to the tower.
Just as Corey was about to hop the fence, Ms. Tanner’s door opened. She emerged wearing a faded purple rain jacket and rubber gardening boots. Her hair stuck out from her usually high and tight French roll, and she put her hood up before stepping out onto her empty porch. It wasn’t raining.
“Don’t go over there, Corey Sullivan,” Ms. Tanner said. “That place is off limits.”
“We’ll be safe, Ms. Tanner,” he said, holding up his open hand in a wave. “Just want to take a look and see what’s going on.”
She waded out onto her lawn, her thin fingers pushing back some wisps of gray hair. Water sloshed with each step.
“Don’t go over there,” she repeated. “Ellen, you too. Get over here and you can come inside for tea.”
The thought seemed absurd—that we would enter her flooded house for tea. But she looked sincere.
“We’ll be careful, Ms. Tanner,” I said. “Why don’t you go give my mother a call and see if she’ll let you stay over."
Her eyes lolled back and forth between the two of us and the tower, which from here looked like a colossal skyscraper. Somehow, it seemed bigger than it had been on Tuesday. Ms. Tanner sort of nodded, but she didn’t move to do anything.
“Have you put in a report?” I asked, wading up to her. She sort of shook her head. Everything she did seemed like a “sort of.” She looked back into her house as if expecting her ex-husband to walk out and scold her for hemming and hawing, which he’d been known to do.
“The Council will fix this,” she said. “They got the money.”
“They certainly do,” I added, “but have you taken a look up over there yourself?”
Ms. Tanner wouldn’t look up at the tower as Corey waded up. She looked a little gray.
“Come inside for tea,” she insisted. “I have crumb cake. I haven’t seen you two in so long. When are you going to get hitched? You’ve been dating for so long.”
Corey put a hand on her shoulder and gave her a sympathetic smile.
“I know things are hard right now, Ms. Tanner,” he said.
“We haven’t dated since high school,” I added. “Are you feeling okay?”
Corey and I shared a look as Tanner’s eyes caught the tower. And then she couldn’t look away, like it had latched her into its gravitational pull.
“Katherine was always so jealous of you, Ellen,” she said. “George would have liked to take Katherine to West Bend. We have a trip planned, you know.”
“Ms. Tanner,” I said, “Katherine has-”
Corey stopped me, putting a hand on my arm. Katherine has been gone for five years. I reached over and rubbed her back as she stared at the tower.
“Go on and get your phone and call my mother, okay?” I said. “We’ll be just over the fence.”
She gave a teary nod and hesitated into the house before we waded back to the fence. Corey climbed over first, looking at me through the gaps in the chain link. When we’d both made it over, Ms. Tanner reappeared with her ancient cell phone. She held it to her ear and muttered into it, her eyes looking like pinpoints of black against her white flesh as she started to walk closer. But she didn’t say anything to us.
“Come on,” Corey said encouragingly when he saw me staring at her. He pulled out his work gloves from his pocket and wiggled his fingers into them before grasping the ladder. He tugged on it to see if it would hold his weight. It didn’t budge.
“I’m going up,” he said.
“God, it creeps me out sometimes, Elle,” Corey said, scratching at his forearm tattoo—Crann Bethadh, the tree of life. The tower loomed only a half mile from my house, around the corner and down the street by Ms. Tanner’s backyard on a little plateau at the top of the hill. Even here in front of my house, the stream was steady, if small.
“Well, hopefully, you’ll get over that if you’re planning on going up to it,” I said. His eyes flicked up to look at mine as he propped his hiking boots on the side of the porch, looping the laces back into the hooks. The two of us started down the driveway.
“Well,” he said. “Any thoughts on why the tower is leaking?”
The thought hung between us as I balanced on the curb.
“I don’t know,” I said. “I’m a lab tech, not an engineer.”
The further up the hill we went, the more it smelled like a garden hose—copper and wet grass and early spring. Corey rubbed his nose. His gait bounced as we walked down the middle of the road in the light of the street lamps, in and out of darkness.
“Christ, it’s awful,” he said.
“It’s almost,” I said, closing my eyes and taking in the air, “nostalgic.”
“Well, I think it smells like shit,” he said, pausing for a moment before letting out the rest in a whisper. “Oh my god.”
I balanced on the cracks in the road with my toes until I nearly stepped into the pool of water at the tower’s base. When I followed the cracking yellow paint in the road with my eyes, I caught sight of the tower’s base in the fog.
Ms. Tanner’s yard had been overtaken, water standing like a moat around her house, which sat in a divot in the hill. Half an inch of water already flooded the first floor. My shoes filled as we got closer. Tanner had every right to complain about her hydrangeas like she did at the market because they were soaking up so much potable water from the tower that their petals had shriveled.
“Jesus.”
“Why hasn’t the Council done something?” Corey asked as he walked up to the fence around the tower. “You’d think they would do something about this if it’s just leaking.”
“If you try to climb that ladder, you’re going to kill yourself,” I said. “It’s falling apart.”
“Hey, it’ll add a new one to your list of weird deaths in Blackshear."
I shoved him from behind, and his hands caught on the chain link. He glanced back at me with his stupid smile. I shouldn’t have said that bit.
“I’m only kidding, Elle,” he said. “It’ll be fine. I promise.”
“We shouldn’t joke about that.”
I could hardly look at him. He had been the only one I could talk to. The feeling of his hand on my back steadying me reminded me of a tethered boat being towed around in the water.
“Sorry,” he added before letting go and turning back to the tower.
Just as Corey was about to hop the fence, Ms. Tanner’s door opened. She emerged wearing a faded purple rain jacket and rubber gardening boots. Her hair stuck out from her usually high and tight French roll, and she put her hood up before stepping out onto her empty porch. It wasn’t raining.
“Don’t go over there, Corey Sullivan,” Ms. Tanner said. “That place is off limits.”
“We’ll be safe, Ms. Tanner,” he said, holding up his open hand in a wave. “Just want to take a look and see what’s going on.”
She waded out onto her lawn, her thin fingers pushing back some wisps of gray hair. Water sloshed with each step.
“Don’t go over there,” she repeated. “Ellen, you too. Get over here and you can come inside for tea.”
The thought seemed absurd—that we would enter her flooded house for tea. But she looked sincere.
“We’ll be careful, Ms. Tanner,” I said. “Why don’t you go give my mother a call and see if she’ll let you stay over."
Her eyes lolled back and forth between the two of us and the tower, which from here looked like a colossal skyscraper. Somehow, it seemed bigger than it had been on Tuesday. Ms. Tanner sort of nodded, but she didn’t move to do anything.
“Have you put in a report?” I asked, wading up to her. She sort of shook her head. Everything she did seemed like a “sort of.” She looked back into her house as if expecting her ex-husband to walk out and scold her for hemming and hawing, which he’d been known to do.
“The Council will fix this,” she said. “They got the money.”
“They certainly do,” I added, “but have you taken a look up over there yourself?”
Ms. Tanner wouldn’t look up at the tower as Corey waded up. She looked a little gray.
“Come inside for tea,” she insisted. “I have crumb cake. I haven’t seen you two in so long. When are you going to get hitched? You’ve been dating for so long.”
Corey put a hand on her shoulder and gave her a sympathetic smile.
“I know things are hard right now, Ms. Tanner,” he said.
“We haven’t dated since high school,” I added. “Are you feeling okay?”
Corey and I shared a look as Tanner’s eyes caught the tower. And then she couldn’t look away, like it had latched her into its gravitational pull.
“Katherine was always so jealous of you, Ellen,” she said. “George would have liked to take Katherine to West Bend. We have a trip planned, you know.”
“Ms. Tanner,” I said, “Katherine has-”
Corey stopped me, putting a hand on my arm. Katherine has been gone for five years. I reached over and rubbed her back as she stared at the tower.
“Go on and get your phone and call my mother, okay?” I said. “We’ll be just over the fence.”
She gave a teary nod and hesitated into the house before we waded back to the fence. Corey climbed over first, looking at me through the gaps in the chain link. When we’d both made it over, Ms. Tanner reappeared with her ancient cell phone. She held it to her ear and muttered into it, her eyes looking like pinpoints of black against her white flesh as she started to walk closer. But she didn’t say anything to us.
“Come on,” Corey said encouragingly when he saw me staring at her. He pulled out his work gloves from his pocket and wiggled his fingers into them before grasping the ladder. He tugged on it to see if it would hold his weight. It didn’t budge.
“I’m going up,” he said.