Country Meat Loaf

Karen E. Osborne

| A LIFE In MOTIOn cOLUMn |

Personally, I stock up on any groceries we may need before the festival starts and stay out of town until it passes. Many festival goers are also camping on the Country Thunder grounds, so it’s the one time of year that Twin Lakes is not all that appealing to me. I’ve been to the festival once, but it would take a special act to pull me into that madness again.

Even though this area has been quiet for us, it’s changed a lot in the 30+ years we’ve been here. Some good, some not so good, as with anywhere. It’s gotten busier and more farmers have sold off their land and more houses have gone up. When we moved, there was 3 houses on the few hundred acre corner. Today there are 8, a couple more going up and the 250 acres across the street from us has been sold. So far they are farming the land and I hope that continues. When it’s time for us to move, I hope we will find a place that is much like how this town was when we first moved here, maybe with a little bit more of milder weather.

The recipe this month is a country meat loaf recipe that I make so that there are leftovers for meat loaf sandwiches the next day.

I can’t begin to remember where I got this recipe, but I’ve been making this for years. It’s one of the best recipes for meat loaf that I’ve tried and I like that this makes a sizable loaf to have leftovers for sandwiches.

Ingredients

2 lbs. ground beef 1 TB oil

1 medium onion, finely chopped 1 stalk celery, finely chopped 1 medium carrot, finely shredded

2 cloves minced garlic 3 slices of bread

4 oz. tomato sauce (8 oz can, half mixed inside the loaf and half for the glaze)

1 egg

Salt & Pepper to taste

Glaze:

4 oz tomato sauce 1 TB mustard 1 TB brown sugar 1 TB cider vinegar

1) Saute the onion and celery in oil until tender, about 10 minutes.

add the finely shredded carrot, garlic, egg and 1/2 the can of tomato sauce. Add the onion and celery mix and salt and pepper. Add the ground beef and mix all ingredients well.

3) Mix the glaze ingredients together for the topping. Don’t get too hung up on the glaze. If you don’t have all the ingredients for the glaze, you can even slap on ketchup, it will still be fine.

3) Form the loaf in a larger pan, this loaf will not fit in a normal sized loaf pan, I use a 8 x 12 glass greased baking dish for mine. Spread the glaze on top.

4) Cook in a 350° oven for 1 1/2 hrs. Remove from oven and siphon off all the liquid in the bottom of the pan with a baster. Let sit for at least 15 minutes to set.

This recipe should feed 6 easily, we are only a family of 4, so this makes great sandwiches the next day, always a huge bonus.

shortstory FINAL

This story will continue in consecutive months. Ignition Point

by Jami Gray

I scrambled to my feet with newfound energy. The sudden change of position left me light-headed, and I caught my balance with one hand on the wall.

Fortunately, the body didn’t move. In fact, based upon the bloody trail outlining the incoming path and the unnatural angle of its neck to its spine as it sprawled on the floor, I was pretty sure it wouldn’t get up anytime soon. I looked over from where it came from and saw Zev grappling with the Bruiser. I made a wild guess that the human thumbtack was probably the team’s fourth member.

A loud crash sounded as Bruiser sent Zev careening back into the coffee station. Zev managed to catch himself on the counter’s edge, but the impact doubled him over. He pushed off and raised an arm to block a vicious swing from a hamfisted Bruiser. As he completed his turn, he hurled the rack of K-Cups and condiments into Bruiser’s face. Bruiser stumbled back. Zev barely paused before following up with a round kick to the ribs. The kick dropped Bruiser over Zev’s leg. Because of their positions and the dim lighting, I missed what happened next, but whatever it was, Zev went down. I was too far away to help, and my heart seized. Get up, Zev!

A wheezing Bruiser straightened, the muscles in his back and shoulders shifting as his arms rose to shoulder height. With a rumbling roar, he lifted his right leg and slammed it down, as if trying to squash a spider, except that spider was Zev’s chest. Despite the tumbled furniture and coffee items, Zev rolled out of the way and straight into an overturned chair. Undaunted, Bruiser followed, doing his best to violently foot stomp his way to victory. I winced when a pained grunt sounded from a half-obscured Zev, indicating Bruiser found his mark.

Unable to stand by and watch Zev get pummeled, I darted forward before my brain could issue a protest. The floor was littered with broken glass and wrecked furniture, which left my footing on par with a drunken monkey’s. My foot slipped on the broken glass and tangled in the shredded cushions. I crashed into the reception desk, but Bruiser, consumed with kicking the shit out of Zev, paid me no heed. If I didn’t create a distraction quick, Zev would be dead an outcome I violently rejected. I reached into my jacket and pulled out the Skeleton knife. The weight was all wrong for throwing, but I could work with it. Bracing against the desk, I held the blade between my fingers and aimed for the widest part of Bruiser, his back. I took a deep breath in, and on the exhale, I let the knife fly. It flew, end over end, and by some miracle, hit blade first. The point sank to its hilt just to the side of Bruiser’s spine. It was nowhere near fatal, but it did get his attention.

He roared and reared back, one hand scrambling to get to the knife, but its awkward position meant he couldn’t reach it. He left off trying to grab it and spun around to face me. Fury painted his face in a menacing mask, and his eyes held a disturbing light reminiscent of age-old berserkers. He took a step forward.

Shoving away from the desk, I darted back, tripped over a cushion, and fell to the floor. Glass bit into my palms, and my ass hit the floor, the impact leaving my tailbone numb. Bruiser didn’t give me time to register the pain. He lunged toward me with unexpected speed. Using my heels and hands, I managed a panicked backward crab crawl. My hand hit something solid.

I risked a glance and saw it was a broken coffee-table leg. Twisting to the side, I snatched it up, continuing my movement until I was on my feet. Upright, I gripped it like a baseball bat and swung out at the charging Bruiser.

It hit but not where I intended. Bruiser caught the swing, his hands clamping down on my makeshift weapon. Stunned, I stared at those meaty hands. When my gaze lifted, all I could see was the mad grin lighting his face. He yanked on his end, forcing me a few steps forward. Desperation is a wonderful thing. I dug my heels in and jerked back. For a brief moment, we engaged in a weird tug-of-war. Before I could lose, Zev’s battered face, illuminated by an eerie blue aura, appeared behind Bruiser. An echo of

Zev’s magic burned in his eyes as his lips curled into a feral snarl. He grabbed Bruiser’s ears, using them to pull him backward. With another roar, Bruiser lost his grip on the wood.

Unprepared for the sudden change, I fell back a few steps before finding my balance. I stood there, improv bat forgotten, as in front of me, Bruiser clawed at Zev’s hold. As the two men struggled, Zev’s magic bled over Bruiser. I stared as blood began to drip from Bruiser’s nose and his fury faded into panic. Bloody tears began to leak out of his eyes. He began to strike out—not to hurt but to escape.

Zev was relentless. His lips were pulled back from his teeth in a feral snarl, an unholy light in his eyes as he held tight. A wordless cry of agony burst from Bruiser, and he dropped to his knees, his hands still trying to pry Zev’s grip free. Bruiser’s spine arced, and terror was etched deep on his blood-streaked face. His hands dropped, his cry shifting into a high-pitched wail that filled the air for torturously long seconds. When it finally stopped, Zev lifted his hands. Bruiser’s lifeless body collapsed, landing facedown at my feet.

I stared at the grisly sight as my flight-or-fight responses tried to recalibrate. My brain skipped, trying to reassemble the last few minutes into an understandable context.

“Thanks.” Zev’s voice dragged my attention from the dead man to him. His face was a mess. Dark bruises marred his skin, mixing in with various cuts and abrasions.

My voice was still MIA, but I managed a jerky nod.

He swiped at a seeping cut above a swelling eye and winced. “Dammit.” He wiped his hand on his pants and stepped over Bruiser. Zev moved to the desk, skirting the ragged piles of glass, and leaned over. Then he let out a low, appreciative whistle and looked back at me. “That’s one way to do it.”

Not keen on bonding over the various ways to kill, I redirected the conversation. “We need to get out of here.” Preferably before the police showed up, found the numerous dead bodies, and demanded an explanation. Zev was obviously not feeling the same urgency. “In a He rounded the desk, glass crunching under his feet. He got behind it and dropped low, disappearing behind the high counter. Noises rose as he did something I wasn’t sure I wanted to know about.

Unfortunately, curiosity had me inching closer, only to realize I was still clutching the broken coffee-table leg. I carefully set it on the floor and took a couple of steps forward. “What are you doing?”

“Checking pockets,” Zev answered. “I don’t think they carry business cards.” Or wallets for that matter, but what did I know?

He rose, pocketing something, and came out from behind the desk. Ignoring my comment, he went to Bruiser and crouched down. With one hand, he used the dead man’s hair to lift his head. Just enough to take a photo with the phone he held in the other hand. He then repeated his routine with the one I shot and the one half impaled in the wall. After taking his last photo, he straightened and headed for the door leading back the way we’d come. He held the door open with one arm. “After you.” Not eager to be left behind, since the scapegoat role was not my thing, I picked my way through bodies and debris, passing Zev. I kept my attention on the door leading back toward the loading dock, trying to ignore the macabre mess. I had the back door open, escape within reach, when Zev’s voice brought me up short. “Hold up a second.” Sucking in a breath and fisting my hands at my side, I pivoted, putting my back to the door, holding it open. Zev completed his grisly photo shoot, pocketed the phone, checked his watch, and then strode toward me. “We need to book it back to the SUV before Jeremy makes that call.”

Since I was all for getting the hell out of there, I didn’t wait for a second invite. This time, I led the way back. The SUV came into view, appearing undisturbed. With

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the illusion of safety close at hand, my pace increased until I was all but sprinting. Zev kept up, gliding like a dark shadow at my side.

An avian caw drifted from above as we drew close. I slowed as the skin-prickling sensation of Zev’s wards greeted me. I stopped just outside the invisible line of magic and kept a wary eye on the bird circling lazily above us. As soon as Zev took his wards down, I pulled the passenger door open and clambered inside.

Jeremy’s head popped up between the front seats. “You’re okay.” I could not miss the lingering panic in his voice or on his pale face. “Here.” He handed the cell phone to Zev. “Are we going home now?” “Yeah, kid.” Zev took the cell and added, “You’re safe. They won’t be coming after you.”

Instead of the expected “You’re sure?” that I was certain Jeremy would ask, the boy studied his uncle’s face for a long moment. Whatever he saw obviously reassured him, because he managed a wan smile and a relieved, “Okay.”

“Get strapped in.” After issuing that command, Zev took a few seconds to send a text, then he tossed the phone into the holder between our seats. He started the SUV and left his lights off as he pulled out onto the darkened road. He made a series of turns through smaller, deserted streets, finally coming out on one of the main roads south of the warehouse. Only then did he turn his headlights back on as he joined the few other cars on the road.

His phone rattled in the holder. He grabbed it, and whatever he read eased some of the lines around his mouth. Then he set his phone down and went back to driving without saying a word.

Before I could ask, I caught the faint whine of sirens. I twisted in my seat to look out the back window, expecting to find the police rushing toward us. Instead, the street remained authority free. I met Jeremy’s gaze and managed a smile that felt fake but worked because he returned a faint grin before turning to gaze out his window.

I settled back into my seat, the tension that haunted me slowly seeping away as the distance from the scene grew. A flash of red and blue came from ahead, speeding toward us. Panic caught my breath in my chest and locked it down. It didn’t release until the cop car zipped by us without slowing.

I snuck a peek at Zev. His attention shifted from his side mirror back to the road ahead. The stiff line of his shoulders relaxed, and the hard edges of his face eased just a bit. Nice to know I wasn’t the only jumpy one.

I decided it was better to brave the quiet and find out what my future held. “Are they going to be looking for us?”

“It’s being taken care of.”

“And Trask?”

“Do you really want to know?”

Nope, I really didn’t, but the thing was, I was involved. Considering the names flying about tonight, I was worried the fallout would snare me in its messy web. “Just want to be sure I’m prepared should the police come knocking.”

“They won’t be knocking.”

The depth of arrogance in his statement warned me not to push. But that wasn’t the only reason not to be curious. If he or the family he worked for had enough power and influence to pull off cleaning up after a mess like this, they were not the kind of people I wanted to cross. Deciding to brave my second question, I asked, “So, what now?”

“Now, I get Jeremy home.”

There was a finality to his voice that kept me quiet. For a while, the only sound was the steady thrum of the road under the tires. Exhaustion was setting in, and along with the various aches and pains, I kept squirming in my seat, trying to find a comfortable position. At one point, I looked back and found Jeremy nodding off. Probably exhausted by his ordeal. Poor kid.

Zev stuck to the surface streets, though I would’ve preferred the faster route of the highway. But since I wasn’t the one behind the wheel, my wants didn’t count. Zev’s low voice slid through the hushed interior. “I’m curious.”

He shot me an unreadable look. “Why did you take this job?”

I turned my attention out the windshield, doing my best to hide my racing thoughts. There was no way I wanted to share my reasonings. Not only was it unwise to give this predator any kind of scent, but it was highly personal. Besides, he wasn’t the only one who could do inscrutable. “It’s what I do.”

I waited for his response. It never came. Uh. Okay then. “Are we good?”

He slowed for a red light. Only when the car came to a full stop did he look at me, drumming his fingers on the steering wheel. “I don’t know about good, but let’s say we’re even.” Before I could release a sigh of relief, he added ominously, “For now.”

I decided to accept it, despite the implied threat. I’d make sure to steer clear of anything that would put me in Zev’s sights in the future.

The light turned green, and we moved forward. “You got an address?”

His question caused a burst of apprehension, leaving my voice tight. “Address?”

“Where you want to be dropped off?”

Relief left me light-headed. Ignoring the hint of humor in his voice, I focused on our surroundings. I was thankful we were nowhere near where I lived. I caught sight of a familiar yellow sign belonging to an all-night diner. “You can drop me off there, at the 5 & Diner.”

My request earned me a skeptical, “Hungry?”

No, I just wanted the night to end. Preferably with me still breathing. I hadn’t forgotten his earlier threats. “Yeah.”

He shook his head, his lips curling just enough that I understood he caught my lie but wasn’t going to call me on it. “Right, then.” I undid my seat belt, took one last look at the kid still sleeping in the backseat, and then turned to Zev. “He’ll be okay, right?” I wanted to call the question back, but part of me worried about the ghosts that Jeremy would carry from tonight.

Something I didn’t understand flashed across Zev’s face before it resumed the sardonic cast I was starting to believe was his normal go-to expression. “Yeah, he’ll be okay.”

With nothing to add, I gave a nod, pulled open my door, and slid out. As I stood awkwardly in the door, I managed a lame, “Um...good luck and stuff.”

He leaned over, his eyes on mine. This time, there was no missing his smile. It was strangely scary and attractive at the same time. “I’ll be seeing you.”

I swore my face paled because I hoped to hell not. Instead of blurting that sentiment out, I closed the door on his low chuckle. I turned away and headed for the safety of the restaurant, doing my best not to look like I was running away.

My foot hit the sidewalk when the SUV’s engine revved. I snuck a look as it pulled away, the red lights disappearing down the road. For the first time in what seemed like forever, my muscles uncoiled, adrenaline eased, and the tension riding my ass like a tick finally began to recede.

I reached into my pocket before remembering that my phone was still somewhere back in the damn wreck. A plethora of curses scrolled through my head. I made a mental note to call the Guild to request a wipe from the electro mages. I got to the door and, under the outside light, caught sight of my reflection in the glass. I winced. I looked like hell, and my suit was in a sorry state. Dammit, now I’d need to go shopping on top of everything else. So much for getting ahead financially. The only good thing out of tonight was that at least I was still breathing. Go me!

Once inside, I somehow managed to convince the hostess to let me borrow her phone. I dialed Lena’s number from memory. Her voicemail kicked in, and I left a message. “Hey, it’s me. I’m still breathing, but I need a ride.” I added the diner’s address and hung up, know-

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ing she’d show. Because there was one thing she and I held sacred—when things turned to shit, it was your best friend’s duty to ride to your rescue.

Sure enough, four cups of coffee and half a plate of cheese fries later, Lena strolled in. She took one look at me and said, “I told you it was a bad idea.”

The buzz of my doorbell interrupted my late morning chore of gun cleaning and pity party as I lamented my dismal future of continued servitude to the Guild. I set my coffee aside and padded barefoot to the door. A quick check through the peephole came up empty. Hmm, I wasn’t expecting a delivery.

With last night still fresh in my mind, I went back to the table and put my gun back together, and only then did I go back and open the door.

I stuck my head out, but the hall was empty. I looked down and saw a small box on my doorstep. I dropped into a crouch, keeping an eye on my surroundings as I held my free hand over the innocuous box. My magic hummed but didn’t spike in warning or rush to protect me. Deciding the box was safe enough, I grabbed it, stood up, and backed into my apartment.

With the security lock re-engaged, I took the box and dropped it and the gun on the table. Other than my name and address in a uniformly block writing, there was nothing to indicate who sent it.

The mystery didn’t stop my imagination from kicking in. It flashed the name I swore to forget, along with everything else that had happened last night, through my mind. My pulse picked up speed even as I chose to ignore the frisson of stupid excitement.

I used a kitchen knife to slice through the tape, and when I finally got the box open, I found my phone, complete with a cracked screen, tucked inside. Stuck to the mangled screen was a sticky note with three words: “Check your account.”

Confused but curious, I did as instructed. When my bankaccount finally came up, the balance made my ass drop into my chair. I blinked, wondering if I was hallucinating. A click on recent deposits said I wasn’t. Holy shit. - THE END FOR NOW -