Chapter 4

“So what do you think? Abby asked when Leon finished the story.

She was on pins and needles in anticipation because he seemed to take so long to finish reading her story. After handing the bundle of papers to him she waited impatiently while snuggled comfortably in his arms and watched the expressions on his face change as he moved from page to page. There was a lot of that going on and she didn’t know whether it was a good or bad sign.

“Unbelievable,” Leon finally announced after putting aside the last page. “As usual your writing is really good. You’re so descriptive and seem to have the story telling business down pat, but this one takes the cake.”

“So what does that mean?” Abby asked. She was confident in her writing talent and was sure she had a masterpiece, but since Leon’s opinion meant a lot to her, she had to hear it from him

Leon saw the worried look on her face and moved to reassure her.

“First off, I gotta ask you. Did one of those old fellows in that nursing home actually tell you this story? My God, he must have lived quite a life? What did he do, live in that town called Paradise?”

“Well, not exactly. You see, what he said was that in his early years he lived in a one horse town similar to that. Then he told me that although it wasn’t all that bad, quite often strangers would visit and become convinced it needed some changes. They were full of bright ideas but they got nowhere because the town’s folk weren’t that interested in any changes. They liked things just like they’d always been. That’s where I came up with the idea. Then I just ... you know ... named it Paradise because it was exact opposite of what it was. Then I elaborated, exaggerated and used my imagination to make a story out of it.” Abby explained. “Now even old Mr. Evans won’t recognize it and nobody will know where Winston’s story actually came from.”

“Right.” Leon nodded. “I love every sentence of it but do you realize there may be a problem with the newspaper.”

“What?” Abby demanded. Bristles up as she sprang to the defensive. “You don’t think Horndecker’s readers will like it?”

Leon hastily replied. “Oh, I’m sure most people will love it because it is fantastic, but all I’m worried about is whether or not it’s too much. You know, it’s very graphic and downright blood thirsty in spots, so I wonder if some of the more ... erh ... tender hearted readers of the River Bend Press are prepared for something like this. What I mean is, if this gets in the paper, it’s guaranteed to set the whole town on the ear because nobody has ever dared to publish anything like this before. I’m just trying to warn you Abby that there may be a backlash from some of the more ... erh ... conservative readers.”
Leon had been half expecting Abby to back down and agree to tone down her story a little but he should have known better. She was a feisty woman to begin with, and once she got her dander up there was no stopping her.

“Good, that’s exactly what I want because with my help, Winston Conlee is going to turn this town upside down and pretty soon everybody going to know what a great writer he is.” Abby announced.

Leon recognized the signs. She was in one of her feistier moods and once she got that far there was no stopping her. She was like a runaway horse with the bit in its teeth.

He smiled down at her, stole a quick kiss and admitted complete defeat.

“Okay, have it your way, honey. But please, for your own sake, just be prepared for some people who might be out for Winston’s blood once they read this.”

With the evening waning and the last of the sun glimmering in a yellow haze on the horizon, and weakly filtering through the leafy trees in Leon’s and Abby’s hideout, the couple prepared to leave.