But What Happened First?

I became more and more dissatisfied with my story the longer I looked at it. It needed something more, something that would give a few hints to where it was ultimately going. Back stories are tricky. Too long and they’re boring. They are not the actual story but they tell what happened before the story began, what gave impetus to the story in the first place.

So, I wrote a back story and sent it to my first reader. She gave a good critique but she pointed out a few errors. I agreed with that. How could I have written them in the first place? Oh, my. So, I re-did it. I didn’t want to tell too much but I wanted to tell enough to spark curiosity and a desire to find out what happened next. 

I’ve never started a story with a flashback or a back story. They haven’t been necessary. But, gathering all my reserves, I wrote a second back story and here it is:

The wind was wild that night, dashing spates of rain against the hardware store, tucked between the grocery and bank. It hit the three men like cold, stinging needles as they stepped out of the back door and carried their heavy burden toward the creek that ran behind the store.

“Put him here, under this tree and, for goodness sake, cover him with his jacket. Old Grub was over-bearing, but he usually meant well and he…well, just cover him up.”

“Wait a minute!” The trio halted at the warning. “Somebody is under the tree.”

The first speaker lifted the edge of the dirty blanket covering the sleeping man. “Why, it’s Roy Richards. He’s out cold. Whew! What a smell—he’s drunk as a skunk. We can’t put Grub here.”

“Why not?” one asked. “Roy won’t ever know. And, maybe it’ll work out for the best. Put Grub down right here and cover him up. Leave that gun here too. “

A few minutes later, the three crept back into the hardware store. They shook off the raindrops and looked at each other, the lamp light casting flickering shadows across their faces.

“Nobody will ever know what went on here tonight, right boys?” asked the first speaker. “We don’t know anything about a card game and we haven’t seen Grub. You just keep your mouths shut. Understand?”

“Why would I put my own head in a noose?” growled Charlie. “I ain’t talking and none of you others better either, or I just might remember a few things that have been going on at the bank that shouldn’t be.”

“Now, you just hold on there,” the tallest of the group said. “Nobody is going to talk, but we need to think this through. I believe I’d heard Roy and Grub having words, the other day. They didn’t get along at all.”

“They didn’t? I didn’t know that,” said another.

“You ignoramus! ‘Course I didn’t actually hear them, but if anybody asks, we’d better say something that throws suspicion off us, if there ever is any.”

“I see,” said Charlie. “And, I understand Roy threatened him too. Seems Roy might have owed him some money.”

“All right, sit down and we’d better get our stories straight. I don’t plan to go to the gallows for something I didn’t do, Charlie. If you hadn’t been so hot-headed, none of this would be happening.”

The three sat down at the table, cards, money, and empty glasses still scattered across the top. Nobody looked at that one over-turned chair still lying on the floor.