Deep in the Heart of Dixie

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  Owen had nothing, no home, no food, no family, nothing but the clothes on his back and the two hands God had given him. They hadn’t done well by him yet. He had no one to turn to, to take him in or help him out of a rough spot. Most of his life had been a rough spot. Started with his daddy using him for a punching bag. A frightening gleam lit his eyes and he smiled at the memory of the last time his father hit him. It shocked the hell out of the old man when Owen hit him back, knocked him flat on his butt, and made him bleed. Owen walked out that day and he never looked back but it gave him satisfaction to give the old man pay back.

  There was only one way he was going to get to the girl—work. Easier said than done. He already had a reputation in town that kept anyone from hiring him on. He ended up going two towns over, found a meat packing plant that needed temporary help. He figured two weeks would do, be enough to get him a few meals and make it to Gerrardstown. It was filthy, grunt work, not fit for anyone but it was the best he could get. Story of his life.

  He made it one week. The bossman threw him out, told him to take his dirty, stinking carcass out of there. So he hadn’t bathed in God knew how long or washed his clothes. They just got covered in blood and gore working with the meat. He didn’t know why the boss was so particular. Being drunk on rotgut...that might have something to do with it.

  No matter. He collected his week’s pay and walked out the door but made sure he’d be remembered when he slashed the bossman’s tires. He laughed all the way to the bus station and bought his fare that would take him to Pennsylvania. Half way there. He’d think of something when he got there.