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Digging Up Mr. Stangle
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The best description is an excerpt:
The body was under the long, narrow flower bed, the one with the yellow roses.
Jenny Brown, age 16 (almost 17), rang the bell at four in the afternoon and rocked back and forth on her heels. Mrs. Helen Stangle answered the bell. Her hands trembled and her eyes darted from place to place as she stood in the doorway.
Jenny said, “Hi, Mrs. Stangle. I’m collecting for the Ward clothing drive. I talked to you last week, and you asked me to come back today.”
“My husband is gone. He left to run an errand.” She said this quickly, paused then stepped back. She cleared her throat. “That's not important. Come in. I’ve almost got it all ready to go.”
Jenny followed the straight, stiff back into the front room. She frowned as she saw the erect, contained woman sway slightly as she made her way through a room that she knew as well as the palm of her hand.
Mrs. Stangle was in her late ‘60’s, dressed conservatively and wore little makeup. “Have a seat, Jennifer. I’ll be right back.”
Jenny saw a morning newspaper opened to the Style section. Mrs. Stangle had been reading it when Jenny rang her bell. The room was completely devoid of mess. All the surfaces were dusted. Nothing was out of place. The knick-knacks on the coffee table were set exactly where they ought to be.
Mrs. Stangle brought back a full paper sack.
Jenny said, “How is Mr. Stangle? Is he off today?” Jenny watched Mrs. Stangle’s face turn slightly white.
The best description is an excerpt:
The body was under the long, narrow flower bed, the one with the yellow roses.
Jenny Brown, age 16 (almost 17), rang the bell at four in the afternoon and rocked back and forth on her heels. Mrs. Helen Stangle answered the bell. Her hands trembled and her eyes darted from place to place as she stood in the doorway.
Jenny said, “Hi, Mrs. Stangle. I’m collecting for the Ward clothing drive. I talked to you last week, and you asked me to come back today.”
“My husband is gone. He left to run an errand.” She said this quickly, paused then stepped back. She cleared her throat. “That's not important. Come in. I’ve almost got it all ready to go.”
Jenny followed the straight, stiff back into the front room. She frowned as she saw the erect, contained woman sway slightly as she made her way through a room that she knew as well as the palm of her hand.
Mrs. Stangle was in her late ‘60’s, dressed conservatively and wore little makeup. “Have a seat, Jennifer. I’ll be right back.”
Jenny saw a morning newspaper opened to the Style section. Mrs. Stangle had been reading it when Jenny rang her bell. The room was completely devoid of mess. All the surfaces were dusted. Nothing was out of place. The knick-knacks on the coffee table were set exactly where they ought to be.
Mrs. Stangle brought back a full paper sack.
Jenny said, “How is Mr. Stangle? Is he off today?” Jenny watched Mrs. Stangle’s face turn slightly white.
5 pages, Kindle Edition
First published October 25, 2013
About the author
David Marsh
161 books7 followersProduction editor, The Guardian at Guardian News and Media (UK)
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