Thistle and Twigg Read Free

like to purchase a small box of 9-millimeter bullets and another of 12-gauge shotgun shells, if I may please.”
    Well, let me tell you what. You could have knocked me and Harvel both over with a chicken feather. I knew right then Jane and I were going to be close friends.
    Harvel just stood there, staring at her with his mouth hanging open.
    “What’s the matter?” I asked him. “You look like you never heard a lady ask for bullets before.”
    “Well,” he said and cleared his throat. “It is mighty unusual. I believe it’s a first, around here anyway.” Some old retired guys, who hang out there at the store because their wives can’t stand them in the house all day, chuckled like it was the funniest thing in the world.
    Believe me, I’ve been around here a long time, and I know exactly how these men think. I could read Harvel’s mind like his forehead was made out of Cling Wrap. He might be laughing but inside he was scared. Men around here like their women docile as old cows, and don’t want to face the fact that one might get trigger-happy. 1 tell you, it was a real treat to see old Harvel squirm.
    I tapped Jane on the shoulder. ‘Thank goodness ‘unusual’ ain’t the same thing as ‘illegal,’ right, hon?”
    I winked at her and nodded at Harvel, who hadn’t moved an inch and still had his hands flat on the counter. I said, “Harvel.” I said, “Women are citizens just like you men. We’ve got the right to bear arms just like y’all, don’t we? Unless you boys have gone and changed the Constitution of the United States of America when I wasn’t paying attention. It
is
legal for a woman to buy bullets, isn’t it?” I jerked my head toward the boxes behind him.
    “Yes, oh yes,” he said, finally turning around to the shelves behind him to pick out the two boxes Jane had asked for.
    Meanwhile, I introduced myself. Jane and I had a nice little chat. She told me she had picked up some lunch for herself and the men from the moving company. After she got her bullets, she had one more stop, to buy an electric blanket. Jane had seen the weather forecast for chilly nights later in the week and realized the little thin blankets she’d used in Florida weren’t going to be enough in Tullulah, especially with fall coming on.
    She told me she’d only been for a couple of short visits before deciding to buy a house here. It struck me as being a strange thing, to move someplace where you don’t have any relatives or friends. Don’t you think that’s strange? I mean, especially at Jane’s age. But that was really none of my business, so I didn’t pry.
    I told her I already knew where she lived. Everybody knew. The old Hardwick place out Anisidi Road had been empty and on the market for at least a year due to its remote location and high price.
    Jane told us about a big snake coming in her house that morning; that’s why she thought she better come get some bullets. One of the old geezers in the corner said, “I reckon that ain’t gonna be much help against some other things in that house.” His buddies all giggled and shook like a bunch of little girls.
    “Don’t pay them any mind, Jane. They’re only here because the mental hospital ain’t got room for all of them right now.”
    The Hardwick place is kind of famous around here. It sits on the edge of the refuge, way out there by itself in the sticks, and is over a hundred and fifty years old. The Daughters of Historical Southern Heritage got it designated as an official historic site some time back. This was because the house was used as a hospital for Civil War soldiers wounded at the Battle of Cokers Branch, which happened not too far away. Bullet holes are still all over the old brick fireplaces. So, naturally, that made the house’s asking price pretty steep, too high for most folks in town.
    Jane said she liked it being out by itself and planned to take long walks everyday on the refuge trails that are right close to her property. Since