In Over Her Head by Elsie Russell - Parnasse.com

"Old man Carver's dead, hunting accident, those kids are good
for nothing, never could figure out what you saw in K.C."
"Right, well, I'll be back before dinner."
She fired up the old Chevy Impala just as a dented old Skylark
with a lantern jawed pituitary case behind the wheel eased in next to her
on the driveway. The Bell's '59 dinosaur was so dull and rusty it looked
like it had grown there under the pines, but it worked fine, and started
and stopped on a dime, even in deep winter. Penny put it in reverse and
shot out from under the trees in a graceful backward arc, then slammed
down the accelerator, leaving Lurch or Gross or whatever his name
was, in a cloud of fumes.
She bumped along the trail of packed snow to the Carvers and
the clearing in front of the squat cinderblock house. First thing she
noticed it was hard to miss the barn was gone, there was just a heap of
farm equipment carcasses buried under the snow.
Razor, K.C.'s Heinz 57 mutt, galloped at her from the back of
the house and humped her leg.
"Glad to see you too, Razor."
She heard cussing inside and Mitch, the eldest, came to the
smeared glass door, a cold one in his hand.
He opened the door for her, and drank from his can as he
looked her over. New gut ballooned over his camo pants.
Big Black blared from the speakers.
"There's nothing to do,
There's kerosene around,
Now what can we do...
Never anything to do but dump kerosene:
Set me on fire.
Kerosene!
Set me on fire!
Kerosene!"
Right.
"Sorry to hear about your dad, Mitch, um, hey, what happened
to the barn?"
"Set me on fire!
Kerosene!"
He tugged silently at his beard, lumbered back to the tattered
plaid Colonial sofa and sank in under K.C's totally awesome but also
illegal display of elk antlers.
Penny balanced on the sofa arm. The maple coffee table was
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