Preface

The truck rumbled to a stop in the dirt driveway, settling a cloud of dust onto everything that was close to it. A man stepped out of the aged truck and went up towards the equally aged house. With a hammer in hand, he nailed up a large sign on the front door. With that he left as quickly as he came. With no thought about the people who lived in the house, the man smiled over what he just did. He had just earned a lot of money in a short amount of time.

“Boy I love my job,” the man said with a malicious smile as he continued to travel on rural route 55.

The roosters usually woke him up early but that day he woke up at least four hours late. He had so much to do; he needed to put several of the farm equipment in the front lawn for the auction. With a cup of coffee in hand he went outside to oversee the workers unload the chairs and the podium for the auction. But before he was able to talk to the foreman, he noticed the sign on his door. In big bold letters the word “foreclosed” was in the center of the sign with the small words “by the State Bank of Idaho” in the bottom right corner.

“My god, I told them I would pay for the house today,” Jeb said as he threw the sign onto the ground. He continued to walk towards the foreman until he noticed all of the farm equipment was right there in the front lawn

“Who moved all the equipment?” Jeb said with an angry scowl. Some of the workers looked up but they all looked back down when they saw the look on his eyes.

“I did,” said one of his neighbors, standing up from his seat. He walked up to Jeb and shook his hand. Jeb’s anger faded but picked up once again as soon as he was close to his neighbor.

“You should have asked for permission first” Jeb murmured. The neighbor shook his head and put his hand on Jeb’s shoulder.

“I know what you’re going through is hard. It must be, since your parents died and you lost the farm to the bank. This is the least I can do for you,” the neighbor said sympathetically. Jeb shook his head and murmured a silent thank you. The neighbor nodded and went back to the now growing crowd that was gathering for the auction. Jeb walked into the house for a long talk with the bank.

The rain came just after the auction was over. Heavy drops mixed with the wet mud that was left from the previous rainstorm. A somber mood fell on the farm, with the rain intensifying that feeling. A taxi waited outside the house, waiting for Jeb to come out. Jeb walked out of the house with an old man following him. As Jeb pushed his only suitcase into the trunk of the cab, he asked the old man about his parent’s debts.

“They are all taken care of Mr. Broody, with the sale of all of the farm equipment and all of your parent’s possessions, of course,” the man said with a slight tone of humor. Jeb opened the cab door and sat down in his seat.

“Goodbye Mr. Broody and good luck,” the man said with a smile. The banker closed the door and banged on the top of the car. The taxi took off and Jeb got the last glimpse of his house, the house that his parents had owned and the house he had grew up in. He passed by the For Sale sign in his front yard, the last thing that brought him over the edge and forced him to cry.