Poor Bastard Short Story Entry 2

“The poor bastard never saw it coming.”  Billy Joe looked up from the barbeque stained napkin he had used to scribble down his eloquent eulogy.  He expected some boisterous laughter, a “Hell Yeah!”, and maybe a round of applause.  Instead, the congregation sat in awkward silence while his mud-stained boots echoed through the church as he stepped down from the altar.  Bob, the deceased, came from a large family with deep southern roots.  His wife Ellen, the Park Avenue type, blended in like a flamingo in a flock of pigeons.  She had always clashed with his family and so, as is usually the case when a wife puts her foot down, they rarely saw the southern brood.



As a gesture of peace, an olive branch if you will, Ellen had asked Bob’s cousin to speak at the service.  As Billy Joe sat back in the pew, the rivets of his overalls carving designs into the wooden bench, she began to re-think her decision.



“Who invited him?” Ellen’s sister whispered. “He looks like he just finished birthing a calf.”



“I don’t know what I was thinking,” Ellen replied sheepishly. “I guess I just thought someone from his family should say something.”



She peered over her shoulder and watched as Billy Joe and his wife Emily shared bites of a Slim Jim.  She shuttered in disgust and embarrassment.  “I don’t know what I was thinking.” She repeated silently to herself. 



A few days later, Ellen received a call from a lawyer in Texas.  He requested her presence at his office the next day to go over the details of her late husband’s estate. 



“What estate?” She asked with surprise.



The lawyer explained that Bob’s parents had left him a fortune when they passed and that it was important she be present tomorrow.  Ellen ended the call and within minutes, had booked her flight to Dallas.  She arrived the next morning in palpable anticipation of what she was about to learn.  It seemed her husband had kept a secret from her; a secret that she believed was about to make her very wealthy.



As she entered the lawyer’s office, she was greeted by the familiar sounds of Billy Joe and several other members of her “family”.  They sat together, like the human forms of night and day; listening to this stranger read their fates.  As he concluded with the reading, he looked up to see Ellen’s face frozen in silence; a silence eerily similar to that of the church congregation just a few days ago.  She stuttered and began to sweat as she asked the gentleman to repeat the last part one more time.



“In order for my wife to receive my entire estate, she must move to Kentucky and live with my family for no less than 10 years.  On the anniversary of her tenth year, the estate will be released to her.” The lawyer barely got the words out as Ellen fainted into the arms of Billy Joe, her new roommate.