Willeford 1

Patti Willeford
Jen Murvin Edwards
ENG 215-001
10 October 2009

The Red Veranda

The grandiose bluegrass arms etched out of the estate stretched far. Rich grasses, which
feed the horses. Fiona watched them. Perfection. Landscape spiked with trees, tapered with
flowers, and serrated by fences, the lush land sharpened green paths, which waited to be strolled.
The edges bounded by scattered trees. The sharp dried piney needles stabbed into the earth. To
keep the people away, I hate visitors.
The body of the estate stood bluntly, peaked on the hillside. The torso divided in height
by three segments, which overlooked the valley below. How grand the estate is. Glass eyes
aligned in rows and rows honed, and glistened to perfection. Shiny windows to capture the
morning light. Chipped out like scars against the sky, the barns, the outbuildings, the
smokehouses, the bunkhouses, the corrals, and the gardens engraved the hillside with tattooed
patterns of wealth. My enormous house, my beast, my love, stands tall against the sky.
The legs were chiseled, and paved by the blood of underpaid workers. They turned, and
wound down the hill, to reach the valley below. Busy little bees, nosy little bees, they all want
what I have. Each twisted toe formed a graveled slice to be travelled. The townspeople lived, and
worked bisected by class segments, which divided the communities, into smaller parts of the
whole. The hillside estate once owned the townspeople, in a former period of time. All bought
and paid for long ago, they will take it from me if Im not careful.

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The head of the estate, Fiona, closed the gate behind her, smiled as she left the horses.
Softly Fionas feet touched the grass as she removed her shoes. How velvety smooth the grass
feels. She sat down on the hillside beside the gardens, which looked down at the valley below.
The little people rush here and there. Fiona smelled the lavender in the air. She arched her head
back, lowered her blonde hair till it reached the dirt, beneath the grass. She stroked the blades
between her thin bony fingers. She closed her eyes against the turf. Water and sand, a
screwdriver rests between my finger cracks. I want to go there someday, I want to sit on the
beach. Fiona sat up. Her professionally manicured facial structures sighed at the distance created,
in the name of, civility.
The handyman, Rudy Ames, approached her unannounced. Miss Fiona, Ive finished--
Fiona startled by Rudy. Rudy! Next time have yourself announced!
Sorry, Miss Fiona. I just wanted to let you know I finished with the roof repairs.
I checked on replacement costs.
Who is this man to tell me what I can, and cannot do? He is a mere commoner. Rudy
smiled at Fiona, and waved, as he packed his implements and left. She watched his rusty truck,
as it rambled down the spiny road to town. Fiona thought about the refined and amenable Miss
Fiona always friendly, pleasant, and good natured. How civilized.
Fiona brushed off her cultured clothing, paraded up the hill to the main house. Fiona
cleaned the enormous house, the beast. Beneath the silk and linen, callused hard knees ached, as
she paced the oak staircase. Hours passed. Finished with the heavy burden, she placed some

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chowder on the range. Chowder, broth enriched to chowder. She smelled lavender. She loved the
smell of lavender.
Fiona delicately washed, rinsed, dried, and stacked, the one set of china she used. She
grabbed the mailbag, walked a mile down the hill to the mailbox. The mailman hates me. The
chassis of the mailbox was two feet by two feet, stuffed full of junk. He does it on purpose. Back
up the hill she marched. Fiona opened the mouth of the beast, and entered the office. Seated at
the cherry desk with the mail, an hour passed, each envelope, classified by, now, maybe, or
never. Fiona trashed all the catalogs and magazines. I dont have time to read.
Fiona showered, groomed herself to perfection. Dressed, like her mother trained her to
do. She stepped out of the belly of the beast. Seated on the veranda, Fiona waited. The ladies of
high society arrived. Mothers friends the watchdogs of society. Fiona greeted each with a smile.
Six ladies sat on the veranda, Fiona stood. The busy old biddies, they come from town to spy on
me. Tuesdays tea party, Fiona wished the tradition had ended when her mother ended.
Mrs. Morgan, her mothers oldest friend, was hated by all. Mrs. Morgan inquired.
Fiona, have you eaten dinner?
Yes, you old prune, I eat. Fiona nodded a yes answer, to Mrs. Morgan.
Mrs. Silos, the town drunk, worried more about appearance, more than Fionas mother
had. My dear, you looked thinner than last week, when I arrived.
You hog dont worry about my weight. Maybe you should step back from the table once in
a while. I fluctuated a few pounds, nothing, really.

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Mrs. Caster, the second richest member of our community, hated me. Who spilled red
paint on the veranda, Fiona?
Fiona bewildered. Stained again? Fiona stared at the stain. I wish this veranda were
running red, draped with your blood. Fiona poured the ladies tea. Mrs. Biloa distracted by the
horses spilled her tea on her lap.
Mrs. Biloa spilled her tea again.
Careless old hag. The ladies stared at Fiona. Fiona stared at the lap of Mrs. Biloa. Bitch.
Mrs. Rainer jumped up to help Mrs. Biloa. Fiona stared at the empty chair. Fiona thought about
Mrs. Biloa, who always spilled her tea. She spills it on purpose. She watched as the ladies
cleaned it up. The ladies decided to end this weeks tea party early to take Mrs. Biloa home.
Good riddance, dont come back. Fiona waved and smiled as the old biddy left with the others.
Fiona scrubbed, the red stain over and over, it turned pink, and finally decided to paint
the veranda again. She warmed some chowder for dinner. Seated and dressed at the twelve-chair
dining table, she laughed. Im lucky. She washed, rinsed, dried, and stacked, the china. Then
bathed, and dressed for bed. The beast howled in the night, over and over again. She walked the
spine of the beast, to reach the bottom floor. Here I go into the belly of the beast. The heater
whined in pain. She sat on the concrete floor, listened to its pain. It hurts, and I hurt. She stared
at the ancient device, rattled with diseases.
Fiona awakened by a knock on the door. She had slept on the hard concrete floor. She
didnt remember going to the basement. She found groceries in heavy paper bags stacked on the
veranda, when she answered the door. Fiona slammed the door shut. She dressed. She cooked
chowder for breakfast. The sweet smell of lavender filled the beast. She washed, rinsed, dried,

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and stacked, her china. She marched to the veranda, and she carried the bags of groceries to the
trash dump. She painted the veranda white again. Down the hill, Fiona saw Rudy Ames, headed
her way. Just wait Rudy Ames, youll get yours, someday. She picked up the paint and supplies,
and headed for the workshop.
Rudy, I painted the veranda again.
Rudy confused. Miss Fiona, you stained it again, didnt you?
Fiona snapped. You stained it!
Rudy nodded his head no.
***
He wanted her to stop talking. Just shut your mouth. Rudy walked away from her. She is
crazy. Everything I do is, to help her. Rudy entered the house, this all-so, familiar house. Rudy
had worked here all his life. Does she care; no, she makes my job harder. He missed the old
man. Everyday he checked the essentials. First he checked the heater, then the water, and then
the cupboards.
The heater stopped working. He worked to repair it. I wonder why she wont let me
replace anything. Its not like shes poor. She spends all her time alone, except for the occasional
visitor.
Rudy paid by the old man, an account set up in his name, to take care of this place, for
the rest of his life. Lately, it feels more like a death sentence, than a job.

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The cupboards had been bare every time he checked. Where are the groceries I brought
her, what did she do with them? Rudy looked for the groceries; he found them stuffed in the
trash bins out back. What is she eating?
***
Fiona startled by the rudeness, Rudy showed her, strolled down the path to the gardens.
The life of leisure is the life she lived. She sat down with her book of poetry and escaped to
another world. She avoided the rude Rudy.
Rudy approached her. Miss Fiona, Ive finished
Fiona jumped as he spoke. Rudy!
Sorry, Miss Fiona. I just wanted to let you know I finished the heater. I do recommend
you have it replaced soon.
Ill do that, youre my boss, and I obey your every command.
Its time expired a long time ago.
Rudy wandered away from her. Fiona closed her book and returned to the beast. The
basement stunk of Rudy. She vomited on the floor, the odor sickened her. She climbed the hard
stairs, grabbed the mop bucket and cleaned the basement with bleach. The odors overcame her
and she had to quit.
She cleaned the monster, she dusted, she swept, and she wept. I clean the house, a
princess is not supposed to clean. She napped a while. She warmed chowder for lunch.

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Lavender, she smelled lavender. She loved the smell of lavender. She finished; Rudy knocked on
the door. Fiona answered the door.
Rudy smiled. Miss Fiona, I finished with the horses and stock. He offered extra
groceries to her. My wife bought too much, for just the two of us.
Fiona flushed. Rudy, you should have taken them into town, to the homeless shelter. I
am overstocked on groceries. Rudy ignored her statement.
I stocked the barn with feed for the stock.
Fiona nodded at Rudy. She closed the door. He stood there, shocked at her behavior. He
pulled the rest of the groceries out of the trash bins. He stacked them in the back of his truck.
Fiona peeked at him from the eyes of the beast. He must be starving, to go through my trash, like
that.
Fiona reached in her pocket, and she pulled out a knife. Where did I get this knife? Fiona
went to the kitchen and put it up. She washed, rinsed, dried, and stacked, her china from lunch.
She suffered, as she climbed the spine of the beast; she dressed in her garden clothes. She
weeded the gardens, for two hours. She had plucked the grey hairs from the beast, appearance
must be maintained.
Fiona went up the hill to the main house; she bathed and dressed for dinner. Seated at
the large dinner table, she noticed the cleaver, in the middle of the table. Chowder for dinner,
Fiona loved chowder. She placed the cleaver back in the knife rack. Damn old ladies! They put
that on the table. Fiona prepared for bed. She slept. The beast screeched loudly in the night.

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Between sleep and awake, Fiona felt the pain, which arose from the deep, within her. The beast
stopped making noise; she laid her head back down, and returned to sleep.
Fiona shook. She noticed the eyes of the beast, frosted over, on the inside. The ice
glistened in the morning light. She dressed quick. Fiona wore her lumberjack clothing. She
cooked chowder for breakfast. Fiona washed, rinsed, dried and stacked her china from breakfast.
She picked up the chainsaw, and walked into the woods. Fionas father had taught her
how to cut down a tree. They mostly had only done this at Christmas. Fiona searched the trees
for the perfect one. It has to be perfect. She started the chainsaw. She sawed the fallen tree into
pieces. Fiona carried the pieces down the hill to the main house. Rudy walked around the corner
of the house.
Miss Fiona, do you need that heater replaced sooner?
No, I exercised. The heater worked.
Rudy frowned. Miss Fiona, if its cold--.
Fiona angered. Rudy, we want to be left alone.
Miss Fiona, your father paid me before he died. He left the work to me.
Fiona gasped for air. If you people had minded your own business--.
Rudy nodded in surrender. Okay.
She turned away from Rudy, and entered the beast. She took a cold water bath, and
dressed for lunch. She cooked chowder for lunch. She laid the china in the sink. Fiona looked
down at the pattern; her fingers circled the edges of the plate. The knife appeared in her right

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hand. What the hell! She dropped it in the sink. Why are there so many knives in this house? She
washed, rinsed, dried, and stacked her china. Fiona walked outside to the gardens. She stopped
when she smelled the lavender.
Hours passed, which seemed like minutes to Fiona. Her fingers ached from the garden.
Fiona tried hard to forget the pain, as she closed her eyes. Fiona concentrated on the lavender.
She loved the smell of lavender. She whacked some lavender down, retreated to the beast. She
chopped the lavender into small pieces. Fiona cooked the lavender on top of the stove. The beast
smelled like flowers. Fiona loved the smell of flowers.
Fiona dressed for dancing, in her finest clothes. She danced for hours in the ballroom, to
the music that played in her head. Her stomach growled loudly. I wonder what lavender tastes
like. Fiona starved, poured a bowl of chowder from the pot on the stove. She loved chowder.
After dinner she washed, rinsed, dried and stacked her china.
Fiona realized the house had gotten cold. She retrieved some firewood from the back of
the house. She started a fire in the fireplace downstairs. Fiona made a makeshift bed near the
fireplace. Fiona laid her head down, on the pillow, and listened to the cracked sound the fire
made. The beast whistled in the night. Fiona awakened to the strange sound, which echoed in
her ears. She checked downstairs, nothing. She checked upstairs, all the eyes of the beast, poked
out. Glass covered the floors. Fiona hurried back downstairs; she curled up under her blankets,
near the fire. She blamed Rudy for the windows, he was mad at her. He hates me.
Fiona bathed, and dressed. She warmed up some chowder for breakfast. Fiona washed,
rinsed, dried, and stacked, her china from breakfast. She stepped out of the mouth of the beast,
onto the veranda. Fiona looked down at a red stain on the floor. She turned around, went back

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into the house. Fiona slammed the door shut. She grabbed the bucket, and the brushes. She
scrubbed the red stain for hours. Pink, the stain turned pink. God damn it! Fiona decided to
paint the veranda again. She heard the rumbled sound of Rudys truck, as it came up the drive.
She waited, with her arms crossed. Rudy parked his truck, and walked up the path. Miss Fiona,
you stained the veranda again!
Fiona snapped. Rudy stained the veranda again!
Miss Fiona, you stained it, remember?
Fiona frustrated. Rudy, I painted this white!
Miss Fiona, you always wanted it red, didnt you?
Fiona sighed. Red, a red veranda would be nice.
So have it painted red.
Rudy acted confused by the conversation, smiled at her, then walked back to his truck.
Fiona watched him, every step of the way. He stomps like an animal. She disliked the man, the
beast disliked the man.
Fiona found herself at the garden. She smelled the lavender in the air. She watched the
town below. I wonder if they can smell the lavender. She lost track of time, and didnt know
what happened. Rudy approached her. Miss Fiona?
Mrs. Castor spilled red paint on my veranda.
Miss Fiona, the veranda was painted white.

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Fiona smiled. Rudy painted the veranda!

Fiona laughed and giggled. Rudy shook his head and walked to his truck. She watched
him as he packed it up and drove away. Good riddance.
She marched up the hill to the main house. Dinnertime, somehow, she missed lunch
today. She decided to have chowder for dinner. Fiona placed it on the stove. She climbed the
stairs, and dressed for dinner. Fiona finished, and returned to the kitchen. She washed, rinsed,
dried, and stacked, her china from dinner. She bathed, and dressed for bed. Fiona realized the
house was cold.
She marched to the basement, and checked the heater. Rudy broke the heater, on purpose.
I think he hates me. Fiona stacked some firewood by the fireplace and worked on a fire. He
wants me to freeze to death. She looked around the room. A makeshift bed, somebody had been
in her house. Rudy naps on the job, if only my father was still alive. Fiona changed the sheets
and blankets, and went to sleep. She was awakened by the rain. It sounded so loud. Fiona had
gotten up, and checked the windows, and doors. She stepped in puddle, after puddle, throughout
the house. She gathered up pots, and pans. She placed them all over the house, and went back to
bed. Fiona tried to sleep. The rain sounded like struck nails.
Fiona stepped out her makeshift bed into a pot of water. She glanced around the
downstairs area and found pots and pans everywhere. Who is in my house? A ghost? It took
Fiona two hours to get them dumped. She cleaned up the mess they made. Fiona bathed, and
dressed in her garden clothes today. She made chowder for breakfast. Fiona had two helpings
today. She washed, rinsed, dried, and stacked, her china when she finished.

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Fiona opened the front door. She walked out on the veranda. She breathed deeply, and
enveloped the lavender in the air. Fiona glimpsed Rudy headed her way. She looked down, and
saw a red stain under her feet. God damn it. Rudy stood in front of her now. She grasped the
blade in her pocket. In one swift motion, she pierced Rudy in the heart. She watched the red
stain run down the veranda. She stepped into the mouth of the beast. Fiona grabbed the mop.
Fiona mopped the stain from one end of the veranda to the other. She stared at the veranda, and
felt satisfied with her work. The veranda was red.