Lot’s Wife? Fiction Friday

The superintendent was the first to arrive.

The meeting tables had been arranged in a square with the chairs on the outside so everyone faced the center.

Then came the principal of the high school followed by other adults who had been elected to the board. They all took seats and murmured about the statue or pillar or whatever it was standing in the center of a Kansas board room.

Finally, someone asked what it was.

Mr. McCormack climbed over the table and touched it.  He was always a hands on sort of guy.

“It’s kind of slick. Looks like a woman,” Mr. McCormack said.  He hitched at his pants legs and squatted down to have a look at the pedestal.   “Nothing written on it.”  He climbed back over the table.

One of the men moved a table to open the square and the rest of the group gathered around the object.  Some touching it, some keeping a leery distance.

“You’re right, it is a woman,” Mrs. Tide affirmed.

Mr. Kendra actually leaned in and licked it.  “Salt,” he said.  “She is a woman made of salt. Not refined salt, there is a lot of sand mixed in.”

“It’s Lot’s wife,” Mrs. Smith exclaimed with some authority.  She was a self appointed morality compass for the board.  “You know Lot, they were hanging out in a bad place, like the South Side over by the river.  Anyway, God, or angels suggested Lot and his family should leave town, get the heck out of there and don’t look back.”

“Right,” Mr. McCormack agreed.  “Lot’s wife looked back.  She turned into a pillar of salt. I’m sure this isn’t the real thing. But, who put it here and why?”

“I think it’s a message,” Mr. Kendra said.  “Don’t look back.”

“Or maybe, get the hell out of Dodge,” Mr. McCormack added.

“I think we should get on with our meeting,” the Superintendent took his seat.  “Our agenda is long and I wanted to get some sleep, tonight.”

Mrs. Smith took a quick head count and the meeting was called to order. She recorded the motions, votes and kept everyone on topic. At the end of the agenda was an item they all wanted to avoid.

“Now,” Mrs. Smith read, “There is a proposal to allow teachers to carry weapons.”

“Is she a message?”  Mr. McCormack changed the subject.  Everyone there had been eying the woman of salt but Mrs. Smith was a task-master.

“Is she a threat?” Mrs. Henry the math teacher asked.

The meeting lost focus at this point and the weapons proposal was tabled.

When the Superintendent  came back in the morning, the statue was gone.

By Sally

Sally Franklin Christie Blogger and Author of If I Should Die and Milk Carton People.