CREEPERS Read Free

had declared the structure, not deigning to use the word house, unsanitary, dangerous—unfit for anything but the lowest of vermin. She pronounced the orchard, and the entire town of Furnace Valley, to be a “ Blasted, godforsaken hellhole! ”
    Undeterred by his wife’s rejection, Jack had refused to let the place go. For the next couple of years, he spent much of his free time—weekends, mostly—tending to the orchard and soaking up the stark beauty of Furnace Valley and the surrounding hills. He never tired of it.

    * * *

    Sam let the truck roll to a stop as he thought about the first time his dad had brought him to the ranch to “camp out.” He was only six years old, but he could still remember his first time running through the palms. The cool, filtered shade. The dry rattle of dusty fronds. And, most of all—the sublime relief from the midday sun.
    He lowered his head as tears brimmed in his eyes…
    He was never going to stop missing them.

Chapter 5

    Curley watched from just inside the barn as Sam rumbled up in the tanker, made a U-turn, and positioned the truck beneath the large water tank.
    The truck door kicked open, and Sam let his six-foot-two frame slide out of the cab and drop to the ground. He scanned the compound, then faced the barn, cupped his hands around his mouth and yelled, “Curley!”
    Not waiting for a response, Sam moved to the water tank and started up a ladder that was welded to the side.
    As he stepped onto a catwalk that ran along the top of the tank, he turned and yelled again. “Curley! Get your butt out here and help me fill the truck.”
    A moment later the barn door swung open, and Curley clumped out into the daylight. He was dressed in dust-covered work clothes and a tattered John Deere cap that rode on the back of his bald head. The nickname “Curley” was given to him by the locals on account of the bushy red beard that covered most of his face.
    Curley was a thirty-something Furnace Valley mystery. No one seemed to know where he’d come from—or, for that matter, how he’d gotten there. He’d just appeared one day in town, wandered out to Sam’s place, and never left.
    He and Sam struck a deal. In exchange for chores around the ranch, Sam let Curley move into the tack room attached to the rear of the barn. Delighted, Curley seized on the offer and now spent most of his free time upgrading his new digs. What exactly Curley meant by upgrading, Sam had yet to figure out.
    But it was clear Curley loved the place.
    And Sam knew why.
    All those palms.
    “Okay, okay… I’m coming,” Curly waved, moving completely out of the barn’s shadow. “Jeez, Sam, where’s the fire?”
    As Curley angled toward the truck, Sam did a double take when he noticed Curley’s boots. “What in the hell, Curley,” Sam said, pointing to the boots. “You been drinking?”
    Curley looked down, staring at his scuffed Justin work boots. They had been laced up backwards—right on left, left on right—so the toes pointed comically outward.
    After a moment he looked up and said, “Yeah, yeah, I know…” Then he stared down at the ground self-consciously and added, “You seen how I walk, Sam, all pigeon-toed like. Well, it come to me in a dream. A voice says, put them sonsabitches on backwards, Curley. Take a corrective action. Straighten things out.”
    “Unbelievable,” Sam said, shaking his head.
    “Yeah, pretty smart, huh?”
    “No. Unbelievably stupid .”
    “Oh, don’t say that… don’t say that, Sam.”
    And then, without warning, directly behind Curley, a fat Mojave green rattlesnake warped out from beneath the barn and slithered towards his feet.

Chapter 6

    Sam couldn’t believe his eyes when he saw the snake zero in on Curley. It was moving directly toward him at a good clip.
    “Curley! Behind you! Rattlesnake!”
    “Yeah, right Sam.” Curley hooked his thumbs in his pockets, rolled his eyes. “You must really think I’m stupid.”
    Sam moved to the edge of the