Friday Flash Fiction – Adirondack Fever excerpt

November brought the first bitter cold to the Deer Hunting Country. Fingers stiff, he struggled to untie the brittle leather laces and, in turn, remove each boot. He exhaled into his cupped hands, warming them before massaging one stocking-covered foot then the other. Though his toes were numb, they had feeling.

He tugged up his trouser leg, passing over the folded bills he’d tucked safely within his right sock. Twenty-four dollars—one of the few things in his young life he could rightly call his. He imagined the wad of money being more, and it would have been if he’d raided the secret cubby in his father’s study or the tin his mother thought safe buried with the potatoes in the cellar. In reality, he was the owner of twelve two dollar bills, which was all right with Erie. His whittlings, popular with the neighbor kids, served as his source of income, his lone source of pride, which was important to Erie. One whittled toy by one, he’d saved enough to secure independence.