by Ann Mullen
“Let me get my purse and I’ll follow you in my car,” I said, figuring I could hide my little Saturday night special in the bag and slip away.
Ten minutes later, we were at Ralph’s range, each of us with a gun in our hand. Ralph strutted over to me with a smile on his face and said, “First off, you need to get yourself a real gun. These things are nothing but trash. If you ever find yourself in a situation where you need protection, this gun is only going to rile the bad guy, or you’ll end up shooting yourself in the foot with it. Seriously, take mine, for instance. Here you have a Glock 9MM, semi-automatic, with all the stopping power you’ll ever need. It has a magazine that holds eighteen rounds, and one in the chamber. Try it out.”
At first, I was insulted, but then I realized he wasn’t trying to hurt my feelings; he was just trying to be helpful. I took the gun. It was a heavy chunk of steel in my hands, and after a few instructions, I fired a round. “Wow! That was intense!” I screamed loud enough for him to hear me through the hearing protection.
Fred walked up to me and said, “Here, try mine. It’s a Rossi .357. If you liked Ralph’s gun, I think you’ll like mine. They’re different, but they both have a lot of power. This one has a cylinder that holds six rounds.” He showed me how to open the cylinder to remove and replace the rounds. The minute I fired the gun, I felt a powerful punch. I loved the way it stung my finger.
“Now, try yours.”
I handed the gun back to Fred, picked up mine, and fired. The small handgun felt like nothing.
“What a big difference.” I was amazed. Both of them were right. My gun was like a fly swatter compared to a cast iron skillet.
“I’m convinced. I’ll have to trade mine in on something with more guts. What’s the use of owning a gun like mine when I can have a real gun like yours? Like you said, if you ever have to use it, make sure it’ll do the job.”
“If you’re interested, I’ll sell you mine for a fair price,” Fred offered. “I’ve been planning on buying one like Ralph’s. I’m tired of a revolver.”
“How much do you want for it?” I asked.
“I’ll take two hundred dollars. That’s about the going rate.”
Two hundred dollars was a lot of money considering I bought mine from a pawnshop for fifty bucks. Without hesitation and feeling that I had formed a trust with these folks, I said, “Okay, I’ll take it. Will you take a check?” The deal was sealed. I now owned a powerful gun and had made four new friends.
After shooting a few more rounds, I was ready to take a break. I sat down on a tree stump and talked with my four new friends. I tried to get to know them better. I was curious about what these people did for a living, since it was a weekday and none of them was at work.
“The county fair’s in town and everybody takes a few days off from work. They have booths set up to sell crafts, T-shirts, food and other stuff. They also have games and rides. It’s kind of like a pre-Memorial Day celebration. Sunday, the fire station in town will have their buffet breakfast. All you can eat for five bucks. The money collected goes to the upkeep of the fire engines or wherever it’s needed. You might want to check it out. The food’s pretty good,” Dolores said.
We sat and talked for so long, my butt was beginning to get sore. I realized the day was starting to slip away. I gave Fred a check for two hundred dollars, stuffed my new toy, as they called it, into my purse and said good-bye. I can’t imagine anyone calling a gun a toy. Hey, what do I know?
I didn’t mention anything about the gun to Mom or Dad when I returned home. I was afraid they might be skeptical of the transaction that just occurred. Dad was in the detached garage, straightening things up so they could park the van in it, and Mom was in the house getting the spare bedroom ready. She was going to turn the room into a sewing room.
I asked Dad, “Where’s Athena?”
“She went inside with your mom the minute she heard the shooting. I don’t think she likes the sound of gunfire. She almost tore the door down trying to get in. You ready to go fishing?”
“Sure, just let me put my purse in the house and check on Mom. When I come back, I’ll help you get the fishing gear together.”
Mom was busy putting everything just where she wanted it. “I’m sure your dad will come in here and rearrange everything, so he can have a place to put his junk. He had the movers put that loveseat in here and he said he wanted a place to put the small television. I hope he doesn’t think this is going to be his hide-out.”
“Dad needs a place where he can go to watch football games and all the other shows you don’t want to watch. I think it might be a good idea. Think about it. You can always run him out if you want to sew. We’re going fishing now, unless you want us to help you do something.”
“No, you two go ahead. I’ll be fine. Just be back in time for dinner. How about six o’clock?”
“It sounds good to me, but don’t you want to wait in case we catch some fish? You know if we catch any, Dad’s going to want them for dinner.”
She gave me one of her looks that let me know we weren’t going to have fish tonight.
“By the way, Dolores said the county fair’s in town. I thought we might check it out, if you and Dad want to,” I said, knowing how much Mom liked stuff like that.
“Oh, that sounds wonderful, honey. I love fairs. Have you said anything to your dad?”
“Not yet, but I will,” I replied as I turned to leave. “We’ll be back in a little bit, Mom.” I looked at Athena, who was now running around my feet, jumping and trying to get my attention.
“Come on, girl. You can go fishing, too.”
I don’t know who had the most fun fishing. Dad and I laughed at Athena when one of us would catch a fish, because she’d bark and prance around as she tried to sniff our slippery friends. We caught several fish, but didn’t keep any. They appeared to have some kind of fungus on their skin. I think throwing the fish back into the water was a concept that confused Athena.
“Minnie’s going to be so disappointed that we won’t be having fish for supper,” I told Dad as we were walking back to the house.
“Yeah, right.” He rolled his eyes as he stopped and turned to me. “I’ve been meaning to talk to you about the lack of men in your life. It just so happens that while you were gone, the deputy from up the road stopped by to welcome us to the neighborhood, so we invited him to dinner. Don’t get mad at us, it’s just a dinner.”
Whoa! I thought to myself. I’ve barely been here two days and they’re already trying to fix me up with somebody. Oh well, what could it hurt? They mean well. I couldn’t help but have visions of Barney Fife from Mayberry, RFD. The things we do for our parents!
As Dad and I were coming around the bend, I noticed a black motorcycle the size of a Volkswagen, sitting in the front yard. What now?
I looked at Dad and said, “Have I moved to Mayberry? Every time I turn around somebody’s dropping by. This is the friendliest place I’ve ever seen.”
“It kind of makes you wonder if anybody around here works,” he commented.
“Oh, I meant to tell you. The reason everybody’s not working is because the county fair’s in town. It seems the whole town takes off work and gets involved. It’s some big thing they do. They also have a buffet breakfast at the fire station on Sunday. Mom and I thought it’d be fun if we all went. We could meet more of our neighbors. What do you think?”
“Whatever,” he said. I knew Mom loved this kind of thing, but Dad couldn’t care less. He’d do whatever made Mom happy.
The long walk up the driveway gave me plenty of time to examine the man and woman I saw talking to Mom. Both were clad in black leather pants and jackets. What kind of people dress like that when the temperature was almost seventy degrees? They had to be the serious bikers.
“Come on, Dad,” I whispered. “Pick up the pace and let’s go see who these folks are.”
Much to my amazement, Sharon and Joe Downey turned out to be beautiful people. Joe was so hand
some it almost took my breath away, and she was a stunning brunette with hair down to her waist. She also had a healthy looking, slim figure. Of course, she had the same large breasts I had noticed on all the women I’d met so far. What is it about these women here? They all have large breasts. Was God standing in the middle of a watermelon patch when he gave them theirs, and under a fig tree when he handed out boobs to the rest of us? That’s not fair.
Sharon and Joe were the All-American Most Beautiful Couple out for an afternoon ride and decided to stop by to greet their new neighbors. They were from Texas and who knows how they ended up here, but they loved it. I was shocked to learn that he’s a doctor and she’s a pediatric nurse at the University of Virginia Hospital in Charlottesville. They didn’t have any children, but instead, they have a dog—named Harry. Mom invited them to Sunday dinner.
After they left, I told Mom, “If you’re not careful you’re going to spend all your time cooking.”
“I can’t help it. I love this place. I love how these people are so friendly. I’ve always wanted to live around people like that. It’s so different here. Living in the city was getting awful. Someone was always trying to hurt you, break into your home, or steal from you. These people here aren’t like that, and I’m going to enjoy my new friends.”
She looked at Athena and said, “Come on, girl. Let’s get dinner started. It appears we’re not going to have fish tonight after all.” She laughed and walked inside. Dad and I just stared at each other in amazement.
“Do you think she’s making fun of us?” he asked.
I went upstairs to shower and get the smell of fish off me. I heard the doorbell ring as I was putting on a pair of clean jeans. Oh, no, my date was here. I’m going to have to talk to Mack and Minnie about their little matchmaking shenanigans. I dug out a chambray shirt that wasn’t in too much need of ironing, put it on, and rolled up the sleeves. My hair was still damp, but there wasn’t anything I could do about it. The blow dryer I normally used belonged to Becky, and she took it with her when she moved. When I go into town I’ll have to buy a new one. I dried my hair the best I could with a towel and went down to meet my mystery man. This was going to be the worst blind date ever. Why? Because my parents had set it up! What do you do? Break their hearts?
Those fifteen steps down the stairs were the longest and most mind-deadening steps I’ve taken since Dad took us to the Washington Monument. You keep on going even though you know there’s not going to be much excitement at the end. I couldn’t erase the thought from my head that my blind date would be a geek or a serial killer who had an uncanny resemblance to one of Santa’s elves, with a bad attitude, or he would be drop-dead gorgeous and think I was a loser with bad hair. I persevered.
Downstairs, Mom and Dad were standing in the living room talking to a man who had his back to me. When I walked into the room, he was introduced as Cole James.
“Hello,” he said. His smile was charming and my heart skipped a beat. “It’s nice to meet you. I was just telling your folks that I wouldn’t be able to have dinner with them this afternoon. Unfortunately, two deputies called in sick with the flu, so another deputy and I have been asked to pull part of their shift, along with our regular duty. I’m sorry. I hope I can have a rain check.”
The room began to fill with the aroma of flowers blowing in the wind, and I had thoughts of lying in a hammock between two trees on a lazy summer afternoon. Where was I? I was lost in the mist of clouds my mind lapsed into when I started daydreaming or wandering off into another part of the world. I couldn’t help but find this man intoxicating. He was a head taller than I, and outweighed me by fifty pounds. Obviously he exercised regularly because his body was firm and muscular. His brown hair was short and curly, and his eyes were the shade of sapphires. He wore the uniform of a tan shirt and brown pants. Each time he moved, I could hear the creak of his leather belt that held a gun and a police radio. The only thing missing was a nightstick. Through the living room window, I noticed a brown and yellow police cruiser parked underneath the large Poplar tree in the middle of the yard. The tree stood along the semi-circular driveway, which I thought was the best thing since parking garages.
“I’m sorry you can’t stay for dinner,” I said. “Maybe you can come some other time.” I was utterly disappointed and wanted to detain him just a little while longer. “Did you say your last name is James? Are you any relation to Mr. James who lived here?”
“As a matter-of-fact, I am. Toby’s my cousin. His father and my dad were brothers. Sad to say, they both have passed away, but my mom’s alive and kicking, and lives in Ruckersville.” He smiled an even more seductive smile. I don’t think he realized how sexy he was at that very moment. “I live up South River Road about a mile and a half from here. I’m sorry, but I really have to be going. I have to be at work in thirty minutes. It sure was nice to meet you folks, and I hope we can get together for dinner real soon.”
Dad walked him to the door; with me following behind like a little puppy.
“How about coming to dinner Saturday night? Say, maybe six o’clock? That is, if you don’t have to work,” Dad asked. “Here, let me give you our phone number. If something happens and you can’t make it, just give us a call. If you can make it, then we’ll see you Saturday.”
Cole turned to Dad as they walked down the front porch steps and replied, “It sounds good to me. I’ll be here. I’m off every other weekend and this just so happens to be my weekend off, unless one of the guys calls in sick. There’s a bug going around. It must be that pre-summer thing.” He removed a small pad and pen from his shirt pocked and began writing. “Here’s my home phone number, cell, and pager numbers, and the number of the police station. If you ever need to reach me, you’ll find me at one of these numbers.” He tore the piece of paper from his notepad and handed it to Dad.
I stood there staring at him. I felt like one of those mannequins you see in a store window with my hands all stretched out, trying to look as if I had style and grace, while pleading, “Hey, over here, look at me!”
Why is it, you spend your entire life, subconsciously, or maybe in your dreams, wondering what it’s going to be like when you meet Mr. Right, and when you do, you’re so dumb struck, you don’t even realize it? Or, maybe you do, and it’s too scary to think about. I felt as if I had just peed on myself while everyone stood by and watched. I waved good-bye to Cole and walked into the house.
Suddenly, I felt twinges in parts of my body that I didn’t even know existed. It has been a long time since I’ve had sex or even thought about it. Do you forget how, if you don’t practice? The last time I had sex or even entertained ideas of a romantic relationship was four months ago when I was dating Matt Whitefield. The sex was rapturously exotic, but the romance was missing. At first, our relationship was filled with romance. He wined and dined me and said things to boost my ego, but after just a few short weeks, the romance was replaced with nothing but sex. He stopped taking me out, and eventually, only came over when he wanted to sleep with me. It didn’t take long to figure that one out. I hated giving up the good sex, but I wanted more out of a relationship. I wasn’t looking for a husband—just someone who would be good company.
This was my chance to make a fresh start. My brief encounter with Cole was enough for me to realize that I wanted to get to know him better. I told myself this time things would be different. I wouldn’t jump into something before thinking long and hard about it, especially someone’s bed.
I couldn’t get Cole out of my mind. All through dinner I fantasized about going out with him. Every time my folks tried to have a conversation with me, I had to jolt myself back to reality. Maybe it was my hormones or endorphins kicking into overdrive, but whatever the case, I was swimming in a sea of lust, romance and dreams, planning my next move. I had to be careful. I didn’t want to blow my first relationship, if that’s what it was going to be.
Friday morning, I was startled out of a restful sleep, full of sexual and emotional drea
ms about Cole, by Athena jumping on the bed and licking my face. This had become her usual morning ritual. I think dogs have this thing about their tongues. They have to put it everywhere and touch everything with it. I find it difficult to deal with them licking their butts and then trying to lick my face. It’s too nasty to think about.
I got out of bed and went downstairs with the intention of putting food in Athena’s bowl, but someone had beaten me to it. A note was lying on the bar from Mom, saying she and Dad went to the grocery store in town.
I fixed a cup of coffee and walked over to the bay window in the dining area. The sky was gray against the green trees and a yard bursting with the color of spring. Small raindrops had begun to fall as I sat down at the table. I read the newspaper, scanning the want ads. I needed a job. If I couldn’t find one in the paper, I’d have to go to the unemployment office for help. I had a good feeling about this place and the opportunities it offered. Was this because I had a different outlook on things since I’d met Cole? It’s amazing how your attitude can change so suddenly. This time last week, I thought my life was going into the crapper, and it probably was, but now, I had found myself a man, lived in a great house, and would eventually find a good job. I was so happy.
I searched the want ads until I had decided it was hopeless. Every job I came across was either something I couldn’t do, or wouldn’t do. I guess Athena could sense my frustration because she came over and lay down under the table beside my feet. I reached down and patted her head.