“What’s wrong with you?” he asked.
“I don’t know, what’s wrong with me?” I answered and asked.
“You’re so damn cocky. Why do you feel the need to move out here in the boonies?”
“This house feels like home. It was my Momma’s house, and now it’s mine,” I said and got dressed. “Why should I waste my money renting in town? I hate those people. I can get supplies in Rotan and never have to see any of them again.”
“You don’t hate them,” he said. “You’re mad at them. It’s the older people who care about that stuff with your mother. Maria, Bradley, Bobby, me…we don’t care about that stuff. Just the other day Helen asked about you.”
“I’m moving into this house with or without your help,” I said.
“Look,” he said and pulled me onto the cushion bed, cuddled me to his chest and ran his fingers through my hair. “I’m not trying to hurt you that’s the last thing I want to do, but my situation has changed. I have a child to consider. Jason’s pretty much useless around the farm. We aren’t kids anymore, and if farming is what you want and you want to do it here then you’ve got to be more pliable. You’ve got to let go of that grudge and give them a break even if they don’t deserve one. You’ll need seed and a contract with the gin you can’t avoid them.” He saw the concern across my brow. “Stay tough.”
“I’m tough,” I said, and closed my eyes.
Exhaustion overcame me. My mind drifted, and I saw Jim and me on a boat sailing across a wide ocean of calm water with no land in sight. There were no secrets, lies or baggage. We were locked in an eternal kiss as the ocean breeze cooled us. Jim jumped off the boat and begged me to follow. He swam under water until I couldn’t see him anymore and then bobbed his head above the surface and pleaded with me to jump, but I wouldn’t. I was trembling from fear, and my feet were frozen to the deck of the boat. I clutched the life jacket around my neck and saw that Jim wasn’t wearing one. I yelled and cried for him to put on a life jacket. I screamed to him “You’re going to drown.” He didn’t listen and continued to plead with me, beg me to join him under the water. He wanted me to go under with him because something was there. What was there? I couldn’t trust him. Every time I tried to jump I was held back because I couldn’t trust him. I wouldn’t trust him. He went under again and this time his head didn’t resurface for a long time. When his head did finally come above the water he smiled. “This is your last chance Shanna.”
“No” I yelled and sat up. Jim was sitting on the chair beside me tying his shoes.
“We have to,” Jim said. “It’s late, and I have to take Jima to school in the morning.”
“Oh shit how long did I sleep? You go on home. I’m fine here.”
“No,” he said loudly. “I’m not leaving you here. Now get your ass up and in the truck we’re going home.”
“Will you sleep over?” I asked.
“Yes but only if we leave now.”
It was well past midnight when we left, and the full moon was high in the sky. Millions of stars lit our way into town.
“You know?” Jim asked.
“No. I don’t know,” I said.
“As I was saying earlier, you know a lot of people were asking about you at church yesterday. They would like to reacquaint. You remember Helen Garner, Bradley’s wife. She used to be Helen, um,” he said.
“Helen Hopper. I remember Hells Bells. Is she still the bitch she was in high school?”
“Now see there you go again. She’s actually a very pleasant young lady. She and Bradley have been married going on ten years now, got married right out of high school. They make a fine couple.”
“That’s sweet.”
“Yes it is. She asked about you, and then Carla White said she wanted to have you over for lunch. Betsy Miller said she’d love to have lunch with you and thought they might have a welcome home party for you over at the church.”
“Why would they want me back in that church? I’m not comfortable going there. I don’t see that happening,” I insisted.
“Calm down it’s just a thought that’s all.” He patted my leg the same way Pop used to. A pat that told me that I was allowed to think whatever I wanted to think, but we would still do everything his way. I pushed his hand away from my leg.
“No church. Got it?”
“I got it,” he said, and turned up the radio volume.
When we arrived, the little rented house felt cold and sterile. I was already homesick. “You hungry?” I asked.
“I could eat,” Jim said.
“I’ll make some eggs.”
We ate eggs with toast and washed it down with a fresh cup of coffee while listening to the radio weatherman give the grim prospects for rain. He said that thirty-five percent of the entire United States was now considered to be in the worst drought since the fifties. Jim’s face aged with worry as he listened, deeply concerned about his crops.
“Run off with me. There’s always going to be a drought or hail storm or tornado. There’s always going to be hardship here and never a break,” I said. I was, for the most part, fantasizing.
“Where would we go?”
“Anywhere but here.”
“What would we do?”
“Anything but farm.”
With full stomachs, we collapsed into the bed. My sleep was peaceful and dream free. I was up before the chickens the next morning. I had three boxes packed, and in the truck when Jim walked out of the bedroom, rubbing his eyes and wondering what all the noise was.
“What’s going on?” he asked.
“There’s some cereal on the counter and milk in the fridge. Help yourself. I’ve put a couple of boxes in the truck.” I went to the bedroom and stared at the bed. “Jim,” I yelled. “I want to take the mattress and bed over today. Do you think Mrs. Black’s son would like to keep the rest of the furniture or should we just give it to charity?”
Jim came into the bedroom with his cereal. “Sure—I guess,” he said. “I still think we should talk about this first.”
“There’s nothing to discuss. I’ve made up my mind,” I said.
“You will have locks on the doors, and we won’t discuss that subject either. We can stop at the hardware store on the way out.”
“No need. There’s some spare locks in the kitchen under the sink,” before I could even finish my sentence he was in the kitchen inspecting the locks.
“Why does anyone have ten spare doorknobs and deadbolts?” he asked.
“They were on sale,” I said and carried another box to the truck.
The sun was hot, and we were headed for a one hundred degree day. It was late April and that meant nothing but dry heat. Perfect for cotton growth but hard on the farmers. I packed more boxes of food, pots and pans to cook the food in, books to read and candles to light. I stacked the boxes of spiral notebooks on a dolly and tried to rush it past Jim, but he stopped me at the door.
“Do you need that many notebooks? There must a hundred of them.”
“Two-hundred and fifty. They were on sale,” I said.
“You’re going to go broke saving money at this pace,” he said.
“Are you ready?” I asked.
“Do you want the mattress now or later?” he asked.
“You probably needed to plow or work on your own place so I thought you could help me unload this stuff and take my car. I’ll come back with the truck. That mattress is small I can get it.”
“I don’t know if that’s a good idea. Maybe we should drop off this load and come on back for the rest before I start on the farm,” he said and looked at his watch. “I’ve got to take Jima to school.”
“We can accomplish twice as much in half the time by doing it my way,” I insisted. This was an argument I would win. I wanted to take his truck merely because it was easier, but I would have used my car if he had protested. Either way I was moving that day.
“You’ll take Jima to school in my car, and we’ll meet up here in two hours.”
“Where?” He asked.
“There,” I said.
I was hauling the last load of bed and mattress to the farm by noon. Jim had finished working on his land and was there to help me unload. I hinted that burgers would be good and showed him the old grill in the back yard. He had it cleaned and burgers sizzling within an hour. We ate and Jim kissed me goodbye when he left for the fields. Within seconds of his leaving the crew took over. The session was long and tiresome. I still had boxes to unpack and a bed to assemble.
I was on my way to the bedroom to start working when there was a knock on the door. “You could not have possibly finished that field already,” I said, and opened the door thinking it was Jim.
“Hidy-do,” Jima said and let herself in.
“Well, Hidy-do to you too,” I said and we both giggled. “What are you up to?”
“Nothing much but it looks like you’ve been up to hella lot,” she said. “You’ve gone and moved yourself in. It’s nice in here isn’t it? I like the way the wood smells. You got the genny going yet?”
“The genny?”
“Sure, you know the generator.”
“There’s a generator?”
“Well of course there is. Why would they have all the plugs if there weren’t nothing to power what’s plugged in?” She moved the chair to the side and sure enough there was a plug cover over two outlets. “You can bring in a fridge and stove too. There’s space in the kitchen for them. I think there’s some stuff like that out in the barn. I’ll go and get dad to open it up for us,” she said and ran out the door.
I felt a sudden rush of foolish embarrassment for not knowing. It made a lot of common sense that Pop would have powered the house in some way. It’s not as if you could stay cool all summer in here. Now, I could live here forever. My ability to hide the crew had been proven, and I would burn the sessions; no one need ever know.
Jim and Jima brought in an old, but usable, refrigerator and stove they found in the barn. Jima found two lamps that I remembered being in Pop’s office. They were in mint condition, which didn’t surprise me seeing as I wasn’t allowed to touch anything in that room. I plugged in one of the lamps, turned the switch and it was good. The room was now brightly lit and in need of curtains. We all cheered the success and then Jim asked. “Did you start the generator?”
“No, I thought you did,” I said.
“Well who the hell cares at this point, it works,” Jima said.
“Hell yeah!” I said.
“Watch your mouth little girl,” Jim said.
“Yeah Shanna,” Jima laughed. “Watch your mouth.”
Jima found a light switch behind the kitchen cupboard door and flipped it on revealing a hidden light above the sink. I didn’t take time to be embarrassed for not finding it on my own and Jima couldn’t care less. Jim busied himself outside with questions of how we could possibly have power without a line or pole. He was convinced that it must run underground but where was the transformer?
“I don’t profess to know much about electricity, but I do know it’s not a normal setup out there. I found an underground line and it’s connected to the house but there’s not a meter box or anything else that would tell me which power company it comes from,” Jim said. Jima and I were busy cooking our first meal in the house, and I wanted to enjoy the moment, but Jim was spooked.
“I just don’t understand where it leads. It seems to go in the direction of the hills but there’s not a power station in the hills, is there?” he asked.
“Don’t ask me,” I said.
“It’s not a power plant it’s a windmill,” Jima said.
“How would you know that?” Jim asked.
“I don’t. I’m just guessing,” she said.
“I just don’t get it,” Jim was not leaving this alone. “The field, the house, the power. I just don’t get it.”
“Maybe there’s nothing to get,” I said. “Maybe we should take the gift and not ask why.”
“No,” Jim said. “I would at least want to know who gave me the gift if not just to say a proper thank you.”
“I can’t argue with that,” I said.
Jima quickly changed the subject over to school and what she’d experienced that day. I could tell Jim was enjoying the evening and our time together. We could have been mistaken for a real family that night.
Jim continued to work both his and my farms during the day while I tended the garden. By the end of the week, it was time to sow my fields and with that came the discussion of buying seed. Jim was concerned we would have a problem buying at the Feed and Seed because of Bradley Garner. Needless to say, Bradley’s reaction would be far worse than his mother’s was at Maria’s salon. If his Daddy were at the store, we wouldn’t have a chance in hell of walking out with anything except the money we expected to spend. I suggested we go to Sweetwater, but Jim said Bradley’s brother Tommy owned that Feed and Seed.
“As much as I don’t want to, we might have to trek on out to Abilene. Seems a waste to pay those kind of prices,” Jim said.
“Maybe there’s another way,” I encouraged. “There’s always more than one way to skin a cat.”
“Well, when you find that way let me know. I hope it’s soon because we’re already two weeks late,” he said.
The next day I stopped in at the Dry Goods to pick up some Wranglers, work shirts, boots, and a different way of skinning that cat. Hells Bells had managed the store since high school. The Feed and Seed was next door. I received what I thought to be a fair-to-midland reception. I smiled at faces I should have remembered, but none of the names came to mind. Maria was there with her children, Vicky Lynn and James. I told her I had moved into Momma’s house on the farm, and a hush crept over the entire store. It was probably my imagination, but I swear you could hear crickets.
“Do you think that’s a good idea?” she asked quietly while looking around as if to say it wasn’t.
“It’s the best thing to do,” I said. “In this economy I can’t be throwing money away on rent when I own a perfectly good house. I’m sure you understand what I’m talking about.”
“Of course I do,” she exhaled deeply and her judgment left with her breath. “I think it’s wonderful and I hope you have us over for dinner as soon as you’re ready for visitors.” Maria seemed genuinely happy for me, and the busy bodies continued on with their shopping. Maybe Jim was right maybe these people didn’t care about the past.
“I’ll do that,” I said with a smile.
I found the clothes and boots while people shopped around me trying to be inconspicuous with their stares. A young girl with braces was at the checkout counter, and I paid cash. I could see Helen in the office about ten feet from where I stood, but she kept her focus away from me. It’s now or never, I thought. “Helen is that you?” I asked loud enough for half the store to hear.
Helen turned to look at me and displayed a well performed act of surprise, “Shanna Green is that you?” She came out from her small office with arms opened for a hug. “Just look at you why you’ve not changed one little bit. I think you’re even wearing the same hair style, still.”
“Oh, I’ve changed,” I said, and gave her a brief back patting hug while ignoring her jab. “You look beautiful,” I said but thought she looked like the super sized version of her high school self.
“Did you find everything you were looking for?” she asked.
“I did,” I said. “I needed some good old work duds. I also need to buy some cottonseed.”
“Well, I don’t, Bradley,” Helen said, trying to find the best way to end this conversation immediately.
“I heard Bradley ran out of seed a few weeks ago so I went to Abilene, and they’re willing to sell it to me, but it’ll cost twice the amount the Feed and Seed would charge and I was just thinking that,” I said.
Helen and I were never what you’d call close friends nor did we share any deep dark secrets but what I did know about Helen Hopper is she grew up poorer t
han dirt. The only reason she married that shit for brains Bradley is because his family is the richest people in Sunny. Helen wouldn’t dare miss an opportunity for extra cash at my expense.
“I was thinking I would much rather pay Bradley the extra money. That is if he thinks there might be a little cottonseed left.”
“Don’t you worry about a thing,” Helen said. “I’ll call over to Brad, and he’ll fix you right up.” She had the phone to her ear, and was dialing the number before she could finish the sentence.
“Thanks Helen,” I said and walked next door to the Feed and Seed. I could see Bradley on the phone, still saying yes’m to Helen, through the front glass. Billy Price was sitting in his truck waiting for Maria and the kids to finish their shopping. He tipped his hat as I walked by, a good sign I thought. I ended up paying a third more than I should have for the cottonseed, but Jim was proud of my accomplishment and happy to get the fields planted.
“Now it’s up to God,” Jim said. The three of us—Jim, Jima and myself—admired the straight plow lines in the field while on our way to town for a celebratory burger and shake.
“We do the work, and he gets the credit,” I said. Jim stared at the road not wanting to give my statement any credence.
“That’s a good one,” Jima said.
“Don’t encourage her,” Jim smiled.
We stuffed ourselves on burgers, fries and chocolate milk shakes while basking in the glow of our accomplishment. Jima fell asleep on Jim’s shoulder as he drove me home listening to country music on the radio.
“You’re a good father,” I said.
“You think?”
“I know.”
“Thanks.” We listened to Willy, Waylan and the Boys sing a song about Luckenbach, Texas. When Alison Krauss started singing, Let Me Touch You For A While, Jim reached around Jima, and put his hand on my shoulder. When Trace Adkins started singing about the young love he couldn’t forget, Jim started to stare at me.
“What?” I asked with a chuckle.
“Nothing,” he said with a sly, half-cocked grin. He turned his eyes towards the road and quietly added, “You’re beautiful.” After dropping me off at home, Jim drove Jima back to town, tucked her in and drove back out to the farm to stay the night with me.
Patient: Crew (The Crew Book 1) Page 11