English, Spanish ,Beggining into this journey.

Transcript

Note: Transcripts are generated using speech recognition software and may contain errors.
Chapter two, present day because of how quickly the storm was approaching. Wiley Lark angled into the last open parking spot on the street where Shafer's grocery store was tucked between the pharmacy and the Elks Lodge. Wiley would have preferred to have driven to the larger better stocked grocery store in Algona. But but already heavy gray snow clouds descended on burden. Wiley stepped from her bronco. Her boots crunching against the ice salt spread thickly across the sidewalk in anticipation of the on 2 ft of snow expected that evening with trepidation, Wiley approached the store's glass windows decorated for Valentine's Day. Shabby, red and pink cars and bow and arrow clad Cupids. She paused before yanking open the door. Shaffer's was family owned, carried off brands and had a limited selection. It was convenient but crowded with nosy townspeople. So far, whenever Wiley made the drive into burden, she has successfully dodged interactions with the locals. But the longer she stayed, the more difficult it became once inside, she was met with a blast of warm air. She resisted the temptation to remove her stocking hat and gloves and instead inserted her ear buds and turned up the volume on the True Crime podcast. She had been listening to all the cards were taken. So, Wiley snagged a hand basket and began walking the aisles. Eyes Twix firmly on the ground in front of her. She started tossing items into her basket. A frozen pizza cans of soup tubes of chocolate chip cookie dough. She paused at the wine shelf and scanned the limited options. A man in brown coveralls and green and yellow seed cat bumped into her, knocking an ear bud from her ear. Oops, sorry. He said, smiling down at her. It's ok. Wiley responded, not looking him in the eye. She quickly grabbed the nearest bottle of wine and made her way to join the long line of people waiting to check out the sole cashier's brown hair was shot through with gray and was pulled back from her weary face by a silver bet. She seemed oblivious to the antsy customers eager to get home. She slid each item across the scanner at an excruciatingly slow pace. The line inched short. Wiley felt the solid form of someone standing directly behind her. She turned, it was the man from the white house sweating beneath her coat while they looked toward the cashier, their eyes met. Excuse me, Wiley said, muscling her way past the man and the other shoppers. She set her basket on the floor and rushed out the doors. The cold air felt good on her face. Her cell phone vibrated in her pocket and she pushed it out. It was her ex-husband and Wiley didn't want to talk to him. He would go on and on about how she needed to get back to Oregon and help take care of their son that she could just as easily finish her book at home. She let the call go to voicemail. He was wrong. Wiley wouldn't be able to finish the book back home, the slam doors and shouting matches with 14 year old Seth over his coming home too late or not coming home at all, frustrated her to no end. She couldn't think, couldn't concentrate there. And when Seth glowing at her from beneath his shaggy mop of hair told her he hated her and wanted to go live with his dad. She'd called his bluff. Fine go. She said, turning away from him and he did when Seth didn't come home the next morning or answer any of her calls and texts. Wiley packed her bags and left. She knew it was the easy way out, but she couldn't handle Seth secrecy and anger a second longer. Her ex could deal with it for a few days except the days turned into weeks and then months, she moved to shove the phone back into her pocket, but it tumbled from her fingers and struck the concrete and bounced into a slush filled rut. Damn it. Wiley said, bending over to fish the phone from the icy puddle the screen was shattered and the phone was soaked through. Once in her vehicle, Wiley ripped off her hat and sharked out of her coat. Her hair and T shirt were damp with sweat. She tried to wipe the moisture from the phone but knew that unless she got home in a hurry and dried it out, it was ruined. She fly poked at the cracked screen hoping that it would light up nothing. The 25 minute drive back to the farmhouse seemed to take forever and she had nothing to show for it. No groceries, no wine. She'd have to make do with what she had back at the house.