Quarrel with the Moon by J.C. Conaway

But there was a gulf between the Balocks and the people of the Ridge. The women resented Sophie for her airy ways, and the men distrusted Kalem. He was not outgoing; a loner whose habits were considered strange even by the mountain folk. And he was too handsome by far. Tall and muscular as an oak, he had dark hair, light grey eyes and a face which caused women's hearts to beat a little faster.
    Sophie sniffed with self-pity. "We were never liked, Kalem ... I'm still not. Maybe kids would have helped, uh huh. Well, it wasn't my fault I couldn't have any. You didn't have to go off and never come back."
    The screen door opened an inch. A long stick with a rag wrapped around the end deftly slid between the side of the bell and the clapper. The door opened wider and admitted the owner of the stick without announcement.
    The whine of the unwinding thread, the soft whish of the warp and the dull thump of Sophie's feet on the treadle were joined by yet another sound - the creaking of the floorboards. Alarmed, Sophie looked up from the dark corner. She was a coward by nature. Every branch scraping against a window, every sighing wind, every flash of lightning struck terror in her heart. She cursed herself for not having lit the kerosene lantern. "Who is it?" she called out in a gravelly voice.
    A muffled giggle translated by Sophie's imagination became an ominous growl. With trembling hands she reached for the kerosene lamp and struck a match. The wick sputtered for a few terrifying moments. Sophie was afraid that it wasn't going to catch. When it did, she turned it up to full, picked it up, and forced herself to walk toward the sound.
    The girl named Marinda and her three male companions stepped into view. They smiled with sweet menace. Sophie reacted harshly. "What do you mean sneaking in here like that?"
    The boys sniggered behind dirty palms. Marinda blithely answered. "We wanted to surprise you, Mrs. Balock. We know how lonely you get."
    Sophie frowned and stared at the girl. Her eyes were so hypnotic that Sophie felt in danger of falling under a spell. While Marinda held Sophie's gaze, one of the boys wandered to a glass container of sourballs and opened it. The sound spun Sophie around. Defiantly, he stuffed one in his mouth. "Those cost a penny, Alex." He threw a lemon sourball to Marinda. She caught it without looking and slipped it between her glistening lips.
    "What do you want?" Sophie asked.
    A trace of a smile flickered on Marinda's mouth. She moved toward the loom. Sophie ran in front of her, instinctively stretching out her arms as if protecting her child. "Please go!"
    The girl stepped around Sophie, leaned against the meticulously threaded and rolled warp. She began running the tips of her fingers through the threads and asked, "Why do you do the same pattern over an' over?"
    Sophie opened her mouth to reply, but nothing came out. It was the first time anyone had asked her that question. Marinda stroked her hair as she watched the old woman. Sophie was puzzled. What did she want? She stole a cautious glance at Marinda's odd hand as she combed it through her tresses. "Do you want to buy a nice hair ribbon?" Sophie ventured.
    The boys stood to one side, nudging one another and leering.
    "What are you starin' at, Mrs. Balock?" Marinda said. "Do I look odd to you? Is there somethin' the matter with me?"
    Try as she might, Sophie could not take her eyes from Marinda's hair. The right side seemed to be undulating with movement, although she knew the ceiling fan no longer worked. It hadn't worked in years. Then she saw what she thought was a small green ribbon emerge from between the strands. It had to be an illusion. The ribbon got longer and longer. Marinda turned over her hand and a writhing green snake crawled into her palm. Marinda, smiling crookedly, thrust it at Sophie's face. Sophie shrieked and staggered backwards. She flung out her arm and knocked over the jar of sourballs. It crashed to the floor. The glass