Reluctant Reunion

by Ruth J. Hartman

If I’d had the funds for future rent, I could’ve checked message boards in the subway for someone wanting a roommate. Unfortunately, I didn’t have much left. Nothing in the bank. Only the little bit in my purse. Getting another room was out. I didn’t have my job at the shoe store. My auditions lately hadn’t gone well. It had been quite some time since my last acting job and that had only been as a background person in a short, low-budget commercial. I shook my head, realizing I had no other options except the one I wanted least.

  Go back to the farm.

  Chapter Four

  The bus must have been a relic from some junkyard, reconditioned for service when the company was desperate. I bounced on the seat, the bus seeming to locate, and run over, every single bump, crack, and pothole. I’d had to take a seat in the very back since I’d barely gotten to the station when the bus was ready to depart. From where I sat, the exhaust fumes wafted up through the cracked window directly behind me. Lovely. My stomach rumbled partly from hunger, partly from nausea. I’d used nearly all my remaining funds for the ticket. If I was lucky, I might have enough for a cheeseburger somewhere cheap once the bus delivered me to Indiana.

  Indiana.

  The thought of returning, especially like this, was not only humbling, but scary. The day I’d taken off from the farm, I’d haughtily vowed to return someday famous and rich. What a crock. I was neither. Never had been, and it looked like the chances of it ever happening were as skinny as Jerrod’s new woman.

  Bile rose in my throat. It was bad enough I’d been a near failure in my acting career, but the fact that Jerrod had not only cheated on me in our apartment, he’d actually chosen that slut over me…

  My insides jumbled as the bus hit something as big as a hippo. Did the driver even have a current license? I grabbed hold of the back of the seat in front of me hoping to stay in my seat. Because tumbling to the floor with the old gum, trash, and sticky-looking spots of unknown origin wasn’t something I wished to encounter.

  At least not without a current tetanus shot.

  A sucking noise caught my attention. I glanced up. And wished I hadn’t. A guy and girl two rows up, may eighteen or so, were making out. And not just kissing. The girl’s blouse was unbuttoned so far down cleavage was visible. And there was no bra. The guy’s hand snaked inside the white material, and the girl moaned.

  I don’t believe this.

  A few other people turned around, but no one did anything about it. A woman several rows ahead was reading a book and wasn’t paying attention to the free show or to the ten-year-old boy in the seat next to her turned so he faced the back. The little instigator had his cell phone aimed at the couple. Perfect. That would soon end up on the Internet. How revolting. And if the phone was the lady’s and not his? Wouldn’t she get a surprise the next time she checked her phone?

  Not only did I not want to see another couple nearly having sex on a public bus, it reminded me too much of what I’d walked in on with Jerrod and that woman. I balled my hands into fists on my lap. Wanting to pummel Jerrod. Or the couple on the bus. Either would do. So much rage had built up inside I wasn’t sure I could let it go. And to be heading back to the place I most didn’t want to go wasn’t helping any.

  I leaned against the seat, closing my eyes and willing myself to not listen to the make-out session. Too bad I didn’t have my earbuds to block it out. I hadn’t taken time to see what all Jerrod had stuffed into my bags, assuming he’d grabbed all my things. How stupid not to have checked. But I’d been so angry, so intent on trashing his possessions that it hadn’t occurred to me before I fled the apartment. And I couldn’t check my luggage right then since it was tucked beneath the bus in the grimy compartment.

  Hopefully the smoochers would grow tired of it soon and take a nap or something. Because it was still several hours until we reached Indiana.

  I ran my hand over my face. How had my life changed so drastically in such a short time? Now I had no boyfriend, no home, no job, no auditions. The only thing to look forward to was an awkward — at best — reunion with my dad and being around those blasted alpacas.

  Was it possible he wouldn’t want me to stay there? No, even though we didn’t keep in touch,, I couldn’t see him ever turning one of his kids away in time of need. And that was definitely me right now.

  Suddenly, the exhaustion of all I’d recently endured, hit. My limbs ached and my head hurt. My eyes were gritty, the lids heavy. All I wanted was sleep. With several hours to sit and do nothing but think, which was the last thing I desired, a nap sounded pretty good.

  However, every time I drifted off, the bus hit a pothole and bounced me awake. Frustrated, irritated, and downright angry at all I’d had to endure, I forced my bleary eyes to focus on the passing landscape. Would I ever see New York again?

  Did I care?

  It hadn’t left me with warm fuzzies. I doubted anyone there would miss me either. How long would it be before Jerrod all but forgot about me?

  That is, after he gets his trashed apartment put back together.

  I allowed myself a small, quick smirk. The jackass deserved so much more than what I’d done to his place. My mind conjured up all kinds of interesting scenarios where he was hit by a truck, leaving him with two broken legs. Or, a certain part of his anatomy suddenly failing to perform and the skinny woman leaving him.

  Yep, the fact that I had left his home in shambles was really just a blip on my radar. I’d wanted to do more. Something big. Something to really piss him off. But it wasn’t in me. It still surprised me a little that I’d done what I had. But then, extreme anger, hurt, and jealousy could do that to a woman. Change her into some kind of beast she otherwise might not recognize.

  Once the adrenaline was gone, I was left sluggish and wilted. And most definitely still alone.

  Chapter Five

  By the time the bus reached the station in Indiana, I was tired, achy, grumpy, hungry, and really had to pee. I’d used the bathroom on the bus once, but the tiny room had been so smelly, vile, and disgusting, I’d vowed my bladder would explode before I went in there again.

  It nearly had.

  I danced impatiently, one foot to the other, while I waited for the driver to retrieve luggage from the bottom compartment. Thankfully, since I’d been last on the bus, my luggage was near the front.

  Tiny blessings.

  I grabbed the handles of my suitcases, lugging them behind me like two miniature train cabooses, and hightailed it into the small station. Once in the bathroom stall, I nearly cried. Partly from relief for my bladder and partly from depression. Because now that I was finally back in my home state, everything I’d gone through seemed more real.

  Back outside, I settled my bags on the concrete slab in front of the entry door. I looked left, and right.

  Now what?

  I had my cell phone, but the battery had died while I’d been on the bus. I could use the payphone in the lobby but had ended up using the last of my cash on some desperately needed snacks and a bottle of water.

  I let out a beleaguered sigh. Well, only one thing to do now. Hoof it. The farm was three miles away. A long walk, yes, but at least it wasn’t raining, I was wearing good shoes for walking and there was a strong breeze, so hopefully I wouldn’t get too hot.

  Way to look on the bright side, Kennedy. That was something, right?

  I found my way to the main highway, a two-lane road with occasional traffic. A lot of it was farm machinery, causing me to frequently yank my suitcases off into the grass to avoid being squashed. Lots of pick-up trucks passed and every now and then, an SUV.

  But no one stopped.

  I didn’t want to just stand there, pointing my thumb down the road in hopes of getting a lift. For one thing, there were lots of weirdoes out there, and I didn’t particularly want to have come all this distance to be picked up by a mass murderer and have pieces of my carcass end up in the river. Plus, the exercise felt good. I’d been cooped up inside that bus for what seemed like days. Stretching my l
egs, working my muscles also kept away the anger at what I’d been through.

  A strong wind kicked up, blowing my hair into my eyes. I brushed it away and scowled at the sky. Dark clouds had rolled in. Not now. Can you wait a little bit before you let loose with rain?

  Though tired, I forced myself to pick up the pace, hoping to reach the farm before I got soaked, run over, or kidnapped. The wind caught the tree branches, whipping them back and forth. A car horn blared, causing me to jump. I’d veered too far onto the road. Gotta watch that.

  My heart hammered inside my chest. That could have been bad. Really bad. Possible rain or not, I stopped walking and sat down on one of my suitcases. Maybe if I rested for a few minutes, my heart might decide to stay inside my chest instead of bursting out.

  Another horn honked. Still reeling from the first one, I looked up, irritated. The old pickup truck slowed and pulled off the side of the road a few yards in front of me.

  Uh oh. What if it was one of those crazies I’d hoped to avoid?

  I never should have sat down. That might have seemed an open invitation for them to stop. And I couldn’t call nine-one-one with my phone completely dead.

  I hopped up and grabbed the handles of the suitcases again. With purpose in my stride, intending to walk right past the truck, I headed that direction.

  As soon as I rounded the side, the passenger window rolled down. “Hey… uh, Kennedy?”

  I stopped so fast I nearly fell backward on my luggage. “Huh?”

  “Kennedy Cooper? Right?”

  I blinked and swallowed, relieved that at least it was someone who knew my name. Hopefully not a crazy, then. “Yeah…”

  “It’s me. Arnold Portman.”

  When I took a closer look, I could see it. The thin Portman face and strong chin, the dark eyes and heavy brows. I let out a breath. “Oh… yes. Hi.”

  “Haven’t seen you in years, seems like.”

  “I moved away after graduation.”

  “Heard something like that. Went to New York, did ya?”

  “Right.”

  He eyed the luggage “Back for a visit?”

  I’d forgotten how nosy people who live in a small town could be. As if they had the right to know all a person’s business. In New York, not only had no one asked, they truly didn’t care. Which one was worse?

  Whatever I told him would get around to everyone. There was no going back to New York now, not with the way things had panned out — or hadn’t. And we’d be at my dad’s farm soon enough, so he’d have the scoop. I swallowed. “Um… Not sure of my plans right now. A visit, yes. Not sure for how long.”

  A lot of that depended on the reception I got from my dad. And Laurie.

  He nodded, like that made perfect sense, removed his baseball-style cap with the dark sweat ring around the edge, and scratched the damp hair beneath. “I’m headed that way. Need a lift?”

  I’d been ready to say no. That I was fine. That I could walk the rest of the way. But I’d already been hoofing it at least thirty minutes and, truth be told, was getting tired from pulling my two suitcases over the rocky narrow edge between the asphalt and the tall grass after an uncomfortable ride on a creaky bus. With a curt nod, I said, “Yes. That’d be great. Thanks.”

  “No problem.” Without another word, he hopped out of the truck, grabbed my suitcases, one in each hand, and flung them up over the lip of the truck bed where they landed on the hard metal with a thud.

  I opened my mouth to say something then snapped it closed. What did it really matter? My poor luggage had been through a lot already after thumping down the dirty streets of New York City, being shoved into the innards beneath the bus, and tugged over rough ground from the bus station to here.

  Arnold was already climbing into the driver’s seat, leaving me to figure out a way to hoist myself up to the passenger side. I lifted my foot, placing it on the running board, but slipped, nearly falling back into the dirt.

  He chuckled. “Guess you been away long enough you forget how to climb into one of these?”

  My face heated. “Yeah. Guess so.”

  “Here.” He leaned over, grabbed my hand, and gave a mighty tug. I lurched forward and up, landing partially on the seat, the lower half of my body folded uncomfortably onto the dirty carpet of the floor board.

  I had forgotten. A lot of things. Least of which was traveling in something that wasn’t a subway, taxi, or bus.

  The truck rattled and clanged, almost making me wish I was back on the bus. Almost. At least Arnold’s window didn’t have a crack that allowed noxious fumes inside.

  Arnold shifted the truck’s gear and looked at me. “What did you do in New York? Seems like a person could get lost with so many people around.”

  I slid down a little in my seat. I didn’t want to talk about what a flop I’d been, but people would want to know about my acting, since that was my whole big reason for flying this coop in the first place. “I was… acting.”

  “Seems your dad might have mentioned that.”

  I nodded.

  “Any big movies I might have seen? I like mainly westerns. Don’t remember seeing you. Maybe you were wearing a costume or something?”

  I chewed on my lower lip. Oh, yeah. Lots of costumes. But even a farmer wouldn’t be impressed with me dressed up as a tomato. “Mainly commercials.”

  “Ah. Well, can’t say I sit around much to watch those.” He reached over and patted my hand. “But I’m sure you were great.” He smiled.

  I forced my lips to curve up in response, hoping it resembled something pleasant.

  He glanced at his watch. “Oh, baseball game’s on. You mind?” He tilted his head toward the grimy radio knob.

  “Sure, go ahead.” At least then I wouldn’t have to make conversation and answer uncomfortable questions.

  Arnold turned the knob and the voice of an announcer filled the cab. I shook my head. Same guy who did the games when I was little. My dad and brothers always loved to listen. I was usually nearby. I loved hanging out with all of them.

  Used to love…

  I didn’t talk to my dad much. When was the last time I’d corresponded with my brother? With any of my siblings?

  I blew out a breath, but then, they hadn’t contacted me much either.

  Whose fault is that? Maybe you chased them away since you never had time for them.

  Now here I was, heading home, getting ready to spend time with family. Well, Dad at least. When was that reunion? I hadn’t paid all that much attention since at the time, I’d had no plans whatsoever to go. There’d be no choice now, if I was living at the farm.

  If Dad let me stay.

  He’ll let me stay, won’t he?

  Since I’d already traveled part way from the bus station when Arnold found me, I was soon at my family farm’s drive. Arnold turned the wheel to take me down the dusty gravel road.

  I put my hand on the dash, as if that would stop the truck. “I’ll walk from here.”

  “You sure? I don’t mind.”

  “Really, I’m sure. And thanks so much for the lift.”

  “My pleasure, Kennedy. Enjoy your visit with your dad.”

  I smiled, a real one this time. Not because I was excited to have a possibly uncomfortable moment with my dad, but because Arnold had shown me true kindness, something I hadn’t experienced much of lately.

  I hopped out of the truck. Arnold did the same, rounding to the back of the bed and lifting out my luggage. He lowered it to the ground and said, “Take care, now.”

  “You too.”

  I watched him drive away, giving him a wave. Unable to put it off any longer, I turned toward the farm.

  It was just as I remembered it. Green pastures. Old but well-kept house. Large barn. And several of Dad’s little creatures milling about a large penned-in area. I swallowed hard, wishing I was someplace else. But I couldn’t just stand there. Eventually, Dad would come out of the house or barn and spot me. Just do it. What other choice do you have?
With a deep sigh that seemed to come from my toes, I forced my feet forward.

  The tiny wheels of my luggage bumped over the uneven gravel, suitcases bobbing and weaving like drunken prizefighters. They were covered with dust. But then, so was I. I was head-to-foot grimy. And why did my tongue feel like it was covered in fur?

  Fur.

  As if they’d been expecting me after all this time, the alpacas, wooly heads stuck over the fence, gave me the collective eye. No movement, eyes wide open. Except for the last one on the right. He winked.

  I squinted to make out which one it was. Oh. Percy. Should have known. He had the most personality of all of them. He’d been tiny when I’d left, but I’d know him anywhere.

  What am I saying? I didn’t even like the alpacas. Couldn’t stand them, in fact. Where had such a foreign pleasant memory about one of them come from?

  I shook my head. Nosy things. Get a life. One of them made a clucking noise. Oh yeah, I’d nearly forgotten the bizarre sounds they made. Hideous beasts.

  Not wanting to, but with no other choice, I tugged the battered suitcases down the drive. Past the barn. Past the curious animals, and finally…

  To the house. I stood there for a few minutes just taking it in. There was the window to my room, the one on the end. I’d always hated that, being stuck way over there. Like I wasn’t part of the family. Like maybe no one cared. Was it normal to feel that way when there were several kids in one family? I wasn’t sure how long I stood there, staring at the place where I’d grown up, but I turned away. Not wanting to be caught gawking outside someone’s house – because I couldn’t call it my home any longer. What if Dad peeked out the window right then? What would he think?

  I turned, pulling my luggage behind me as I had for what seemed like days. They were a part of me now, unwanted appendages containing what was left of my pitiful life. Stepping away from the house took me directly past the alpacas again. As if they’d been expecting me, had been in that very spot for years, waiting, several came and hung their heads over the fence. Crazy animals. So curious. Cats had nothing on them in that department.