Summer Tastes Like Lightning

Summer Tastes Like Lightning

1862, Chapter 11

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Doug Stanton
May 02, 2024
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In Chapter 10, August and Johanna loaded Mr. Carlton Waggoner on August’s wagon and set off to bury him. Johanna, horrified, is not sure what will happen next to her or to August. Waggoner died during their assignation in the hotel and she feels she should let the sheriff know what’s happened—a man has died, after all. August is in a daze and not sure what he’s doing or why.

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After passing along the lane lined with walnut trees, August pulled Jim the horse to a halt. It was quiet there, sitting in the sunlight. And warm. A redwing blackbird lit atop a cattail, its shoulder patch bright as a matchhead.

The creek ran along the paddock and the paddock was fenced off with split cedars stacked up in a fence. August jumped down and pulled Waggoner out by his legs.

Waggoner hit the hard ground with a thump, which made Johanna whimper.

“Get me those boards over there.”

He pointed to a stack of lumber moldering in a corner of the paddock.

Johanna struggled to bring two boards over and August set them as a walkway down from the height of the wagon.

He climbed up and swatted the pigs and they ran down the ramp into the paddock.

He dragged Waggoner inside, covered his face and exposed skin parts with mud until all that was visible was a lump in the ground.

“Hogs won’t mind if he’s dirty.”

Johanna was beside herself, knotting her hands together, filled with both relief that her husband would never find out, and with a terror that somewhere in the state of Wisconsin someone would be missing Carlton Waggoner, and never find an answer to the mystery of his disappearance.

“You’re a cruel man, Mr. Kroke.”

“I am.”

“He must have family somewhere. What if he’s married?”

“You should have thought of that before you waggled yourself at him.”

“We can’t leave him here.”

“Should we bring him home?”

He shook his head. “Didn’t think so. You killed him, Johanna. Not me. Saved me the trouble. I was going to cut his throat but you got to him first.”

He replaced the split cedars in the fence opening so the area was closed off and he climbed up in the wagon.

Johanna sat looking ahead, ram-rod straight. Her brown hair shown like lacquer in the sun and he could almost smell it.

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