Somewhere in north Georgia, 1952
Willard Williams sat in the wooden glider on his back porch, gazing into the distance. He held a glass of tea in one hand, elbow on the armrest, the other arm across the back of the glider. Although the glass still held tea the ice had melted, so the liquid was only faintly tinted.
It had been a hot summer day. The sun having set, a faint breeze stirred the air. Crickets began their nightly chorus, replacing the buzzing cicadas of daytime. From far away came the grinding, choking sound of a truck on the highway. A grassy field stretched away beyond the tree-shaded yard. Beyond the field were rolling hills.
Willard thought about how he should be tending to chores. He just hadn't had the will do to much since his wife died five weeks ago. Marianne had been Willard's sweetheart since they were very young. They had gotten married as soon as he'd come home from the army after World War I, and their marriage had been one of happiness and contentment. The couple had lived in this house along with Willard's parents until first his mother, and then his father, had died some years back. They kept working the family farm but it became less profitable over time so Willard had also worked as a tractor mechanic for the local John Deere dealer.
Willard's younger sister, Leona, had arrived the day before. Leona was fifty, and lived outside Atlanta, two hundred miles south. She had come to see him and help take care of things while he adjusted to life without his wife. She knew that he would have a hard time after losing Marianne.
Willard and Leona had not been close growing up. Willard was five years older and, being the only son, was shouldering responsibilities on the farm from an early age. True to most country families at the time, boys were assigned field duties while girls worked in the house helping their mothers, coming outside to hang the laundry on the line or to feed the chickens.
Leona and her younger sister Katherine had both married at an early age. Leona and her husband Dan moved away to Atlanta. Dan was a drinker and never had steady work, so Leona worked as a sales clerk at Rich's to keep them going. Katherine had married a local boy but had died of cancer in her forties.
The clatter of dinner dishes came from inside the house. Leona had cooked dinner and had just now finished washing and drying the dishes, pots and pans.
The screen door creaked open and Leona came onto the porch. She had a rounded body, in contrast to Willard's thin, almost gaunt figure.
"Mind if I join you?" Leona said softly.
Willard made no reply, but took his arm from the back of the glider so Leona could sit down. The glider rocked back with the weight of his sister's plump body.
They sat silently as the darkness deepened. There was no porch light, but the kitchen light cast a soft glow from the doorway and windows. The distant hills were only an outline against the fading sky. Soon, fireflies began their nightly mating flights, winking randomly across the field.
