May and the Big Brown Box.................... Ben Zhou

She Woke from the Dream in Tears

fction by Ben Hulsey

Flashes of gunfre and ugly shouts forced her to sit upright in the bed and scream.

But the farmhouse was silent except for the creaking and the whippoorwill cooing in the night. In reality, there was nothing to fear. She was safe, but it wasn’t her safety she was concerned about. It was her son’s.

He left a month earlier when the grass was found only along the banks of the creek and even the slightest gust of wind caused a force of dust to fy into the clouds. Te cattle dug through the central Texas sand for whatever food they could fnd, and the murky waters of the creek became less and less drinkable.

John tried to persuade her to let him take a herd to Colorado and then return with some money. She saw the rage in his eyes, a rage encouraged by her sorrow. He hated his father, the man who left them for the whores and booze of the city. She understood his pain, but she couldn’t let this place take another man from her.

No reason or rationale could keep John from traveling onward. Like the bufalo, who left years ago, he searched for better things. A nomad. At the time, she feared the droughts, the bandits, and the Comanche. Tose fears amplifed as she stared blankly north into the empty sky, wondering where he was. Now, she paces around the house. Te creaking of the door replaces the thud of his heavy boots, and the whispers of the wind replace his laughter. She does what she can to pass the time, fnishing chores around the cabin or walking the dry creek bed. She spends the evenings on the porch staring into the sunset. Te whiskey bottles pile up. John forgot about her.

At that moment, John lies between two snoring vaqueros and stares into the pale moon, thinking of his mother. v

32 Te Talon 2022