Appalachian Arsenic by Kenzie Stone (to read list .TXT) 📕

“My house, seven o’clock, tonight.  No need to dress up,” He said, smiling slightly.

“In that case, I will see you tonight at your house at 7 o’clock, most likely in blue jeans and a t-shirt.”

“Fantastic.  Should I leave you so that you can shower?” He motioned toward the door.

“That would probably be a good idea.  I have an interview at 2:30, and I’m never late for an interview,” I stood, and he did as well.

“Hasta luega, Mackenzie,” Benji promptly left the house, and left me to my own mind and routine.

As soon as I heard Benji’s car leave my driveway, I set a change of clothes out on my bed and went to take a shower.  The warm water ran over my body and distracted me from what had just happened.  I was going to Benji’s house.  Perhaps it wasn’t meant to be a date, but it was set up the same as one.  “You’re losing yourself, Mackenzie.  It is a boy who has invited you over as a friend,” I told myself, and then went to think of other, more important matters.  I had an interview in just a few hours, and I had no clue what I was going to be able to get out of it.  All that I knew was that my boss told me that I should interview the town newcomer.

I’d seen her around some, in a store or during my occasional walks around town.  She was extremely petite, and had very blonde hair.  I suspect that she dyes it.  Unfortunately, that wouldn’t be an appropriate question to ask for an interview.  I’d never seen her eye color, though I would surely notice today.  I typically saw her while she was wearing sweatpants and a ratty sweatshirt.  My only hope was that she recognized the formality of the interview and at least wore presentable clothes, not something you would sleep in.

I was dressed and ready to go by 12:30, which would give me plenty of time to visit with Eliza.  I would probably ask if I could do any errands for her around town, since Joshua has been working after school cleaning the local library to support the family while she is still searching for work.  It would be hard to find until after the baby had come and could go to a babysitter.  She appreciated being able to stay at home and work.  It’s too bad she would have to go to work somewhere; she would make a lovely housewife.

I applied just a bit of makeup around my eyes.  I had always believed that I was average in appearance, with my eyes being my one true beauty.  On a typical day they were green, but they would occasionally change to brown, hazel, or even a delightful golden color due to the lighting or weather.  Today, they were simply green.  I elected to keep my dark brown hair down, holding back a few annoying strands with a bobby pin.

By 12:45, I was in my navy blue sedan going carefully down the side of a mountain towards the Browne house.  I’d driven up and down this narrow, windy path so many times that I could drive even this under the spell of road hypnotism.  Soon my car pulled up next to their house and I went up to the door.  I knocked five times, leaving even intervals between each knock.  Eliza and I had perfected this knock, which was our code to indicate I was at her door or she was at mine.  Within seconds, the door opened and my dear Eliza was waiting for me.

Eliza Browne was a pretty woman of average height.  She would be average weight if it weren’t for the enormity of her abdomen, but she was still fairly thin for a pregnant woman.  She had kind brown eyes, too many freckles to count, and sandy blonde hair full of bright streaks of blue, green, purple, and red.  She typically wore plain clothes that became splattered with paint within hours of being purchased.  She bit her fingernails, as well, so they were always short and rather unattractive, but she decorated them with bright nail polish. 

“Afternoon, Kenzie!” She grinned, embracing me in a friendly hug.  Personally, I had never enjoyed hugs, but I couldn’t bear to tell Eliza this.

“Hello, Eliza,” I returned the hug.  “How are you today?”

“I’m doing just fine.  Did you bring your sketchpad?  Have you drawn anything new?” She bombarded me with questions, just as she always did.

“No, I haven’t drawn anything since I last visited,” I shrugged my shoulders apologetically.  “I’m just checking in on you.”

“I’m pregnant, not paralyzed,” She giggled.  Honestly, how did I ever manage to put up with all the hugging and giggling she did?

“And I’m a good friend,” I entered her home and took a seat in the living room.  “I was just seeing if I can do anything for you while I’m in town this afternoon.  I have an interview at 2:30.”

“With that Duncan girl, right?  How old do you suppose she is?”

“Older than me, and I’m 22.”

“I’d think around 30, but maybe that stupid hair dye she uses makes her appear older.  Like she’s trying to hard to look young or something.”

“That’s very possible,” I smiled slightly.  “Unfortunately, I don’t write up random bits of gossip.  I need fact in order to write something properly.”

“It’s a shame you’re only given 500 words per article, don’t you think?”

“It’s typically right where I would be, anyway.”

“Only because you’ve trained yourself to write such small articles.  You’re excellent at writing them.”

“I’m still fairly new to the paper.  The only person who’s been hired since I was is Charlie.” Charlie is a college aged boy who takes one day every week to write up a quick article on sports.  He emailed me what he wrote for me to submit while he’s in college, and he rents the apartment above headquarters in the summer.  He’s quite lucky that he can get the paper to pay for every sporting event he goes to.

“But you’re the best one they’ve got.  They should let you write more.”

“I’m fine with my limit, really,” I looked around, and then noticed an interesting smell.  “Are you baking something?”

“Yeah, I’m making a coffee cake for Josh.”

“It smells great.”

She grabbed a nearby piece of paper and a pen and scribbled something down.  “Here’s the recipe.  Feel free to drop by tonight for a slice.”

I almost agreed to join her and Joshua that night, but then remembered my plans with Benji.  “Sorry, I have dinner plans.”

“I thought you said your interview was at 2:30?”

I shook my head.  “Not the interview.  Something else.”

Eliza grabbed me by my hand and dragged me to the kitchen table.  “A date?”

“No, not exactly.” I shook my head.  “Do you have any coffee?”

“I know you’ve already had your two cups.  Do you really need a third?” She grinned, shaking her head, and poured me a mug of coffee.  “Decaf.”

“Thanks,” I accepted the mug and took a quick sip.  It was losing its heat.

“So, not a date, but plans with a boy?” Eliza joined me at the table.

“Exactly,” I nodded my head.  “I’m going to Benjamin Andrews’ house.  He’s cooking.”

“Benji?  He’s nice.  I approve.”

“This doesn’t require approval.  There’s nothing going on between the two of us.”

“Not yet.” Eliza stuck her tongue out at me.  Way mature.

“Not ever,” I took the final sip of my coffee, which had become cold.  “He’s never shown any interest.  Why would he now?”

“You’ve now given him reason to,” Eliza took my empty mug along with hers to her sink.  “But it’s 1:30, and I do need some things at the store…”

I grinned.  “Make me a list, I’ll get everything you need.”

Within ten minutes, I was out of the house and driving towards the small grocery store downtown.  By the time I got there, however, I only had twenty minutes until my interview.  Instead of entering the store, I decided to park next to it and walk to The Rose Garden.  It wasn’t far at all, and I could use the walk and fresh air.  It was a beautiful day; not too hot, not too cold, and the perfect amount of cloud cover.  I could feel the warmth of the sun on my skin, warming my body.  I knew that I should do this more often, for the vitamin D. 

At 2:27, I was sitting in my usual table in The Rose Garden, the one in the corner farthest from all the windows and doors.  Perfectly private.  By the time Francine Duncan had arrived, I had been waiting for ten minutes and was halfway through my first cup of coffee.  She spotted me almost immediately, which I was thankful for.  I would never do anything such as wave my arms or call out to her in order to get her attention; I would receive attention from others if I did.  I hated receiving unnecessary attention.

“Good afternoon, Miss Duncan,” I offered, sitting up straighter in my seat.

I was thankful to see that she was wearing clean blue jeans and a formal shirt.  “Hey,” I see her vocabulary would continue to be informal. 

“You can order anything you like.  The paper will pay,” I informed her motioning towards the single-page menu sitting in front of her.

“Oh, okay.  Thanks,” She flagged over a waitress.  “Hot chocolate, with whipped cream.  And I need some sort of protein, I don’t care what.  You pick.” She told the waitress, who hastily scribbled down the order and rushed off to the kitchen.

“Miss Duncan…” I began.

“Please, call me Fran,” She said.

“I’m Mackenzie Mills,” I said, offering my hand.

“Pleasure,” Fran returned, not taking up my handshake. “What did you want to talk about?”

She definitely didn’t seem interested in formalities.  She almost seemed… Rushed.  I took a small voice recorder out from my small purse and hit the button that started it.  “Well, Miss Duncan…”

“Fran,” She interrupted.

“Fran,” I corrected myself.  “I and many others are wondering what brings you to this area.”

“Isn’t it obvious?  I’m a hydrogeologist.  I study groundwater, and I’m here to do a quick study on the levels of certain minerals found in nearby wells.”

“How did you select this area?”

“It was here or the Rockies.  This is closer to home.”

“Where did you go to school?”

“I received a Bachelor’s Degree in Hydrology and Water Resources Science at the University of New Hampshire,” She replied.  I believe this is the first time she gave me a straight answer without any hints of attitude or annoyance.

“How did you choose to go into this study?”

“I wanted to go into some form of science, and I swam while I was in high school.  It made sense to me that I would study water.”

The waitress came with her hot chocolate and a turkey wrap.  I liked her taste; the wraps at this particular diner were exceptional.   Francine did not thank her.

“So, have you found anything interesting about our well water?” I inquired.

“I’m still waiting on some test results, but it’s obviously rich with minerals.  You can taste it.  That, however, is to be expected.  I do suspect that there’s something odd about the water here, though.  Something didn’t seem right to me,” She chewed on her lip.  “I can’t quite put my finger on it, though.”

“If you’d like to