Nobody sold things door-to-door anymore, but he was retired and thought he would try it. Winterizing supplies. It was November. He had some weather-stripping and foam bib covers out in his garage because he had always overbought when he went for such things, and he wouldn’t have to invest before testing the market.

He started at a neighbor’s house two doors down. It was evening, just after dinner, and the sun was at his back when he rang the doorbell. An elderly woman opened the door within and shot him through the screen door.

He started to turn and leave but then went to his knees on the porch.

“What do you want?” the woman asked through the wire.

“Well, maybe now an ambulance. I was starting off to sell some winterizing supplies.”

“Nobody does that anymore,” she said.

“Winterizing?” he asked.

“You stay right there and I’ll call,” she said.

:::

The sheriff and the ambulance arrived together, and after the sheriff had frisked him as best he could he motioned for the EMTs to bring the rolling gurney. The woman felt safe then and stepped out.

“Could one of you tell my wife?” the injured man said.

“Wonder how we might find out where she is,” the sheriff said. “You say your name is Garcia?”

“Two doors down. The green house. Her name is Lupe.”

The woman looked down at the gurney as they were tying down the restraints. “Why, you’re that fella always pulling weeds. Why didn’t you say something? I got weeds I would have paid for pulling.”

The EMTs wheeled him out to the street before he could speak. The sheriff tipped his hat at the woman and said he would let her know how everything turned out.

—From the author’s collection of flash literature, The Light I Want to Keep, forthcoming from MacQ

Bio: Daryl Scroggins