You wanted to know about this locket, well let me tell you. There once was a young woman from Tucker. I assume you know the rest of the story. No? You're new in town; so let me tell you then. Lemonade? No? Your loss, Sonny. Anyhow, this woman, her name was Arlene. She was as beautiful as the sunshine on a horse's mane. As clean as your shoes after a spitshine. Careful boy, we don't like that kind of language 'round here.

She was about twenty, give or take a few years, and her pa was the barber. That's why her hair went all the way down her back but never had any split ends. It had body and was neither fine nor coarse. That's why it shone like the gold of the midday sun even at night. What? Oh, what about her? Hold your horses, I was getting to that. Did I tell you how her hair smelled? Okay then, I suppose you know all about the trucker she shacked up with too. I suppose you know about the terror that followed? I didn't think so.

She moved out from the house behind the barbershop to the edge of town, by the old railroad. Said she'd met someone mighty special. Said his name was Lewis. Now, I don't know if it was his first or last, that's all she called him. I never met the guy, but she talked about him like he was better than everyone here combined. He was well traveled, filled with culture. She said he was a different class of person. He was smart, poetic and beautiful. She said that he was the only one who could truly appreciate her inner beauty. More than a few folks around town claimed to have appreciated her inner beauty, but I *know* they were liars. She was more beautiful and pure than anyone around here. Quit with the haughty attitude sonny, or you won't get to hear the rest.

So, nobody in town had seen this Lewis. We'd all heard her talk about him. She started coming to town less and less. She used to teach a Sunday school class for the preschoolers. She loved those children. She always wanted to have her own. Soon, she started claiming that she did. Now I'm no rocket scientist, but I can count. That's right, I haven't run the gas station here for over 40 years without learning something. She'd been living with this man for less than half a year, and had moved in with him less than a month after they met. Her smooth hips never widened, her trim waist became smaller if anything. Her golden hair was as full as ever.

She quit coming to town altogether after a while. She called a few people, but rarely. Always, she talked about her babies. Folks started saying that maybe he wasn't treating her right; maybe she'd come unhinged. She was beloved by all, so naturally people were talking. Some folks speculated that she'd become lonely with him traveling, maybe took in some stray kittens and became obsessed with them like old Mrs. McConnell. You met her; she lives at the end of Main Street and stares out the window all the time. Maybe she started calling them her babies, and maybe that's why she quit teaching those preschool kids. They missed her. I missed her. It was as if the town seemed dead without her breathing life into it. She used to sunbathe you know, in the field right there. That's right, off to the east. She had smooth, honey beige skin that was unmarred by any tan lines. She'd look up at the sky with eyes the golden brown of toasted wheat and sing beautiful songs. Yes, I could hear her all the way from here.

I knew that Lewis, despite the good things she'd said about him, was no good for her. He was making her pull away from the people she truly loved. She used to confide in me you know, admired me. She thought I was some kind of a hero, and I knew what I had to do. I called the sheriff, and he seemed to think I was being paranoid. She wasn't the first young person that wanted to get out of Tucker. She was in love, and bound to make a few mistakes, become a little distant. I just *knew* something really bad was going on, so I kept calling. Every single day I called. Arlene needed help. She needed me to not stop calling until she got that help. Finally, the deputy said that I could accompany him on a trip out to her house, just to check up on her. Nothing official, you know? Lemonade? No?

So the deputy and I arrived at her house. Her car was gone from the driveway, and her bike had two flat tires. I knocked at her door. Nobody answered, but it was unlocked. The deputy said we should leave, but I couldn't just leave Arlene all helpless. My heart is good, you know? I may be old, but my heart is good, which is why I'm alive after what I saw.

There were dozens of skinny, tiny, spindly-legged things. They looked like something from a bad movie. They had huge black eyes, like cartoons, and golden hair like hers. They squeaked and ran away when they saw us walk around. The deputy barely noticed. His eyes were fixed on the couch. Arlene looked like she was asleep, but I knew she wasn't. Chunks of her beautiful hair were missing, like a child had given her a haircut for fun. She had her hands crossed over her chest, holding wildflowers that looked like they'd been dead at least a week. Those.*things* live here now, hiding where they can.

You wanted to know why an old man like me carries a locket? Look inside, Sonny. It still looks like gold, still smells like her.