Digital Alabama (https://digitalalabama.com/article/alabama-stories/the-raven-a-novel-by-tracy-o-crane-and-terry-w-platt)
The-Raven-by-Tracy-O-Crane-&-Terry-W-Platt
This morning, Raven’s question was “Hey, Goanther, old gal, where is your partner in crime?” but the bird offered no answer. Instead, it turned away from Raven in silence. Haven’t seen him all morning Goanther thought to herself. She knew that meant her twin brother, Hipmoflux, was probably off doing what he usually does—causing trouble somewhere. She could not see how to ravens, hatched only minutes apart, could be so different.
Raven wished now he had gone to Bankhead National Forest like Kenny had suggested.
The approach to the shop required passing through an iron gate in the middle of the eight foot tall wooden fence plastered with “No Trespassing” signs and at least one version of most other types of signs including “Private Property” and “Posted.” The most prominent sign was obviously home made as it used a rusted trunk lid from some type of old vehicle and had a decent drawing of a carbine along with “If you can read this you are within range.”
Once inside the fence, the shop could be seen to the far right of the property back against the property line. The remainder of the area held a neatly arranged assortment of sedans and pickup trucks from the 30s to the 70s. A 1958 Chevrolet pickup with a broken windshield and after market side view mirrors set next to a 50’s something Ford pickup with a rusted out bed. The meat smoker slash BBQ grill was the only thing in the yard that did not have an accumulation of Alabama’s unique blend of rust, mildew and pollen. The short concrete drive ran the full width of the large barn-like doors that were wide open and fastened against the wind with lengths of rusted chain.
“What’s up, homeboy?” Raven’s voice was unmistakable. His voice always made Homer’s smartphone rumble on the desktop because of his low rumbling voice. Homer picked up the phone and turned off the speaker just in case. “I’m trying to run down the status of those old Hobbs Island rail lines for your client. And I need to figure out what I’m going to do with this kitten.
Brother, have you ever thought about our future? I mean like what becomes of us after we’re finished with Raven. With his well practiced Rhett Butler impersonation, Hipmoflux replied, “Frankly my dear, I don’t give a damn.”
“I will admit you were pretty good in that role,” Goanther replied with sincerity, “but you really could not do the stunts like Canutt could. I just cannot believe you really don’t care what happens to us after this.”
“Goanther, how many times have we had this conversation – maybe a million or two million times? Why do you ask those types of questions – what’s the point?
Melvin’s Campfire: Chapter excerpt from “The Raven” novel by Tracy O. Crane and Terry W. Platt.
