Joanne Dobson - Karen Pelletier 06 - Death Without Tenure - Plot & Excerpts
The exquisite Indian-summer air—golden with sun and leaves—mocked my sudden despair. I don’t remember the drive to my little rented house in the woods twenty minutes north of Enfield. One minute I was turning left out of the college parking lot, the next I was in my driveway pulling the key out of the ignition. I sat there in the car staring at the empty house. It was an old one-story farmhouse, a little shabby, centered in a narrow strip of grass that I kept cut with a hand mower. Every once in a while on a walk in the woods—second-growth oaks, maples and birch—I’d come across remnants of the meandering old stone walls of what for a couple of centuries had been rocky New-England farmland. Hay, potatoes, sheep, a few cows, a dozen or so hens, a pig: everything a family would have needed to sustain a frugal life. Maybe that’s what I’d do after Enfield denied my tenure petition, I thought: I’d farm. I’d buy a few hens, build a coop, live off the land, stack up a woodpile, bathe in water from a steel-hooped rain barrel.
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