Uncle Plats

by Aqua Allsopp

  “Hurry up in there! I’ll make coffee.” She smiled again then caught herself. This is too close to real life. This feels funny but good, too. Hmm. She brushed her hair, then padded into the other room. Coffee filled the air with it’s warm fragrance.

  “Better go back and at least brush my teeth before I face the world. You okay?” Tristan looked her in the eyes, those deep brown eyes warm and inviting.

  “Yeah, I think so,” Carmen nodded. “Thanks for staying last night. I think I slept better knowing I was safe.”

  “Good. Gonna have to do something about those nightmares, though. Maybe once Eric is dealt with they will go away or at least get less frequent, huh?” Tristan stepped closer. “Until then, I have the perfect cure.” He reached out and pulled her close for a nice, long kiss. “Now, that’s the way I like to start my day,” he grinned. He grabbed his coat and went to the door. “Be sure to keep this locked, okay?”

  “Always,” Carmen agreed. “Thanks again.” The door squeaked as Tristan left.

  She forgot to lock it when he went out.

  Carmen was in the bathroom putting on make-up when her door squeaked open. She went around the corner, rubbing foundation on her face. “Did you forget something?” She froze in place when she looked up.

  Eric stepped into the room, shutting the door behind him. He smiled. “No, I didn’t. I’m just here to collect what belongs to me. Let’s go home, Carmen. Now.”

  Carmen began to shiver. She nodded and reached for her coat.

  “Good,” Eric said, his voice smooth as silk. “Can you feel the little bulge against your side?” Carmen nodded. “That is a gun. Walk outside and turn to go into the woods. I have a car down the way. Don’t yell. You know what I’ll do if you yell, right?”

  Carmen nodded again, frantically scanning her brain to think of some way to stop him. This wasn’t the plan, but she was at a loss, too afraid of him to think right.

  The couple had just began down to the woods behind her cabin when Bobbi stepped out of hers and saw them. She looked at them and pasted a smile on her face. “Hello. Going for a walk? Good, well, have fun. I’m on my way to work. Bye.” She started to turn when Eric motioned at her with the gun.

  “You’re gonna take the walk with us, girl. Get over here, now.” His voice brooked no argument. Bobbi put her hands up and walked over to Carmen. “You okay?” she whispered.

  “Oh, isn’t that cute? The two girlfriends. Now, walk.” He gestured with the gun, and the three headed down the hill. Bobbi faked slipping as if she strained her ankle and screamed as loud as she could. That earned her a slap across the face from Eric.

  “Get up. No more noise, you understand?” Eric snarled.

  Bobbi nodded her head and got up, pretending her ankle really hurt. Her cheek was bright red where he had struck her.

  Eric looked at Carmen. “Help her. Now move!” They headed off again.

  Tristan was loading wood when he heard the scream. He dropped the log in his arms and tore off to Carmen’s cabin. The door was unlocked. She wasn’t there. He raced over to the lodge and stormed in the kitchen. “Where’s Carmen?” he yelled.

  “Haven’t seen her or Bobbi yet today. They’re both working the late shift. Why?” Hank asked beginning to get concerned at the look on Tristan’s face.

  “I heard a scream and I need to know where she is. She’s not in her cabin.”

  Louise walked in, a frown on her face. “What’s going on?”

  “I can’t find Carmen. I heard a scream in the woods,” Tristan barked.

  Louise’s eyes widened. “Oh, I’ll call Bruce. You go out to look for her but be careful.”

  Tristan nodded. “Always.”

  Hank turned off the stove. “I’m going with Tristan. He produced a shotgun from behind the stove and dug shells out of his pocket. Louise and Tristan both looked at him. “I keep these around. You never know.”

  The two men headed out toward the sound of the scream while Louise went to call the sheriff.

  Hank motioned to Tristan. “Take it slow. You know how it is hunting? That’s what we’re doing. So steady and quiet.”

  Tristan pulled a pistol out of his pocket. Hank looked at him and smiled.

  “And you think I’m paranoid?”

  They found the footprints in the snow and began to follow them. Hank noticed there were three sets. “Who else does he have?”

  Without losing pace Tristan said, “Bobbi. Small prints. She caught them leaving and he took her too, I’ll bet.” Hank nodded his face grim and set.

  A stick broke ahead of them. Both men crouched low and moved forward slowly. There was Bobbi on a log, rubbing her ankle while Carmen sat in the snow next to her. Eric stood with his gun pointed at Bobbi.

  “Get up. I said GET UP!” He waved his gun at her.

  “Or what, you gonna shoot me? You couldn’t shoot a mouse, you jerk. You just like to beat women and control them. Well, I got news for you. I don’t fly that way. No man is gonna tell me what to do.”

  Eric’s eyes narrowed as he looked at her.

  “See? Anyone else would have blown me away. You don’t have the guts.”

  Tristan knew that Bobbi was bluffing so they could have time to get there and help. He looked at Hank and tipped his head. The two stood at the same time and walked forward.

  “She’s right, you know,” Tristan said, his voice low and dangerous.

  Eric spun around to find the two behind him.

  “From what Carmen told me, you are a two-faced liar. I hate liars, don’t you, Hank?”

  “Yep. Rather shoot them than look at ‘em, personally.”

  “Hmm,” Tristan said. “That works too. You want to toss a coin?”

  Hank said, “Yeah, I got a quarter in my pocket. That would work.”

  “Shut up!” Eric said, “or I’ll shoot both women, then you two, and leave all of you here for them to find. No one will know.”

  “Oh, yeah, everybody will know, Eric. They all know about you, the whole town.”

  “What do you mean?” Eric’s voice sounded shaky, but he had a smirk on his face.

  “I told everyone, including the sheriff. If you hurt anybody they will hunt you down like an animal. And I hope they lock you up forever for your stupidity. You won’t get away with this, Eric. I should have stopped you long ago, but you fed on my fear. Well, news flash, I’m done. I’m not afraid of you anymore.” Carmen had gotten to her feet and was steadily walking toward Eric.

  “Stop or I’ll shoot!” he yelled.

  “Okay,” Carmen said, her voice calm. “Do what you have to do.”

  Eric looked from her, to Tristan, then Hank who were both holding guns. He raised his gun and shot at Carmen, dropping her to the ground.

  Hank opened fire and Eric screamed as both legs were shot out from under him. Hank turned to Tristan.

  “Poetic justice. He’ll live to serve time this way,” Hank smiled.

  Tristan rolled his eyes then rushed to Carmen’s side.

  “Where are you hurt?” he asked as he looked her over.

  “He’s a terrible shot. Got me in the arm.” She held her hand tight over her right upper arm.

  Bobbi tore her shirt for a bandage. “Here, let’s ties this around you until the ambulance comes.” Tristan looked at her. “Yeah, I already called.”

  Within minutes, sheriff’s deputies and the ambulance were there. Eric screamed more while they were getting him ready to transport.

  Bruce walked up to Hank. “Nice shooting. It was self-defense, right? He was going to shoot you?”

  Hank nodded. “Yep.”

  Bruce smiled. “That’s what I thought.”

  Tristan rode in the ambulance with Carmen, his hand holding hers like he would never let go.

  “You sure you’re okay?” Tristan’s eyes were full of worry.

  “Yes. It hurts, but I will be fine.” She smiled up at him. “My hero.”

  Tristan grimaced then smiled. “Yeah, we did okay,
huh?”

  “Yes, you did very well. I owe you my life, again. Now, what do I do to repay you?” She wrinkled her eyebrows.

  “Hmm…. I can think of numerous ways. Yeah, the list goes on and on. How about you be my girlfriend, officially?”

  Carmen thought for a moment. “What, and give up my Ice Queen status?”

  Tristan looked at her, shock on his face. “Who told you that?”

  “No one. I heard you talking to Gus one day and it made me laugh. I like it, actually. I spent many years building my reputation. I just might keep it.”

  Tristan leaned down and kissed her. “Okay, the Ice Queen it is.”

  Several months later, close to Valentine’s Day, the couple was on the slopes skiing. Carmen enjoyed flying down the mountain, snow billowing up around her and Tristan matching her turn for turn down the runs. They had just settled on the lift when Tristan asked her to hold his gloves. He reached inside his jacket and pulled out a little box.

  I think now is as good a time as ever. He turned to her. “Carmen, I never thought I would find a woman who could match me in spirit or love of the mountains. I was wrong. I would be so honored if you would accept me as your husband. Will you marry me?”

  Carmen’s eyes misted as she investigated those big brown eyes. “Tristan…. I…um…um, yes. I mean, yes, I will.” She grabbed him and kissed him as his gloves slid off her lap, falling forty feet to the snow. They both watched them fall to the ground below. Tristan just looked at her. Carmen gave him her frostiest purple glare, then smiled and turned her head to the side. The Ice Queen had struck again.

  THE END

  Another bonus story is on the next page.

  Bonus Story 12 of 15

  The Last Cowboy in West Texas

  Description

  The Last Cowboy in West Texas was inspired by the true-life story of the Coates Ranch of Big Lake, Texas. Settled in the 1880s, this 30,000-acre ranch has passed from generation to generation.

  Our fictionalized story is filled with clean romance, family tragedy, redemption and a look at the effects of addiction on the children of the addicted.

  From dysfunction to the ideal, two families collide and love blooms amid a bird’s eye view of the 21st Century cowboy.

  Our strong female and male characters are revealed as the story unwinds. This romantic adventure is perfect for teenagers and adults alike as it covers modern subjects like dating and family dynamics, love, romance, career and aging.

  But don’t be fooled by the social commentary, we keep you guessing about what happens in this cowboy romance until the very end. Join us in Texas where the women are strong, the men are tough, and the cattle make or break fortunes.

  *****

  All that could be heard was the soft crunch, crunch, crunch of Lizbeth’s athletic shoes power walking through the remnants of fallen summer leaves and branches after a rainstorm.

  The little white feet of her otherwise auburn dog, Lady fell softly as she padded alongside her. The high pitched, rapidly squeaking song, “tweet-tweet, tweet-tweet-tweet” of a Mourning Dove kept perfect cadence with the pecking of a Red-bellied Woodpecker, which was accompanied by a babbling brook, brimming over after yesterday’s rainfall.

  Lizbeth, 120-days sober, bristles at the smell of alcohol that she swears leaches out of her pores every time that she sweats. She is determined to stay clean this time, that is why her morning and evening routines of exercise and prayer have become so important to her. She believes they are the keys to her sobriety.

  Lizbeth Collins’ ancestors may have come to America on the Mayflower, but her descendant, William Bradford, never seemed to find his fortune as a Pilgrim in the new world. Instead, Bradford’s distant relative, Lizbeth’s father, grew up poor and struggling in the slums of Bedford Stuyvesant (Bed Stuy), Brooklyn.

  As a child growing up in Bed Stuy, Lizbeth left the embattled home of her parent’s fourth-floor walk-up apartment, where she shared a room with two sisters and a screaming baby brother; born to an alcoholic and already raging at the world. Lizbeth walked past crack-houses and addicts to go to a high performing charter school where she was only one of a handful of white faces, and two of them were her sisters.

  Lizbeth’s grandparents were alcoholics. Her parents were addicted to crack in their youth then became semi-sober, functional alcoholics only long enough to birth three children before becoming so addicted to alcohol, that they have now dropped out of society altogether.

  On this beautiful summer morning, Lizbeth was not thinking about her dysfunctional family or even her own struggles with alcohol. She was appreciating her walk through the park with Lady and enjoying the sights and sounds of nature. Then she was jarred back to the real world by the sound of her mobile phone vibrating in the waistband of her gray and pink, Lycra, capris yoga pants.

  Lizbeth peeks at the name on the caller ID, looks skyward, shakes her head and lets out a deep sigh. She stops walking and takes the call. The dutiful Lady halts, then sits right on cue waiting for her partner to resume the walk.

  “Hi mom”, Lizbeth says in an underwhelmed tone, as if she were being forced to be nice. Lady instinctively knows this conversation is going to take a while and decides to make herself comfortable by extending her front paws in a cross-legged fashion, then she lays her auburn and white face on her top leg. She has been laying like this since she was a pup. It’s how she got her name, by the way that she crosses her legs like a lady.

  “Lizzy, I got a bill I can’t pay”, Ellen, Lizbeth’s mother says, in a voice that sounds both irritated and accusing. As if Lizbeth were the reason that her mother could not pay her bills. Having moved out of her parents’ home when she went off to college at eighteen, Lizbeth, now thirty-two, has not been a financial burden to her parents for fourteen years. Which is why her mother’s call is more vexing than usual to Lizbeth.

  “What else is new mom?” Lizbeth asked with a little sting in her voice.

  “What is it this time?”

  “Did the car break down and cause another unexpected expense, or did you and dad blow the rent money at an Atlantic City casino again, and why are you talking to me as if I had something to do with you being short on your bills?”

  “Oh Jesus Lizzy, stop being so dramatic, I’m just talkin’ over here, for Christ sake. You always gotta take everything so personal!

  Me and your father are just….”

  Lizbeth interrupts abruptly, “Save it, mom, how much do you need this time?

  “Oh God’ll bless you Lizbeth for helpin’ out your old ma like this. I just need a couple thousand to get me through the end of the month, that’s all.” Replies Ellen, as if holding back the excitement that would have resulted in a loud, and high-pitched voice, in a way that sounds of begging and gratitude.

  “Mom, a couple thousand? I gave you a couple thousand last month, and a thousand the month before. Why don’t I just set up an automatic draft to you for $1,000 a month?” Lizbeth asks.

  “Really Lizbeth, would you do that for me, ‘cause it would really help me out a lot?”

  “No mom, I’m not serious. I was trying to get you to see how ridiculous it is that you have to call your children every month to help you pay your bills. This is the last time mom, I mean it!” Lizbeth shouts into the phone.

  “Lizbeth Collins do not yell at your mother! Who are you to tell me how to run my house? I gave birth to you so show some respect!” Ellen spat back in a shout.

  Softly, Lizbeth said, “Respect is earned mom, not given just because you’re biologically related. You need to start respecting yourself. It’s time to get clean mom and rebuild your life. You’re still young, it’s not too late. I’ll pay for it, for you and dad both. I’m sorry for yelling, but it’s hard to respect the woman that was so drunk that I had to be raised by a sister who’s only two years older than me. It’s hard to respect a woman that has to rely on her kids to pay her bills each month. It’s hard to respect you, mom, when you don’t respect the one l
ife you’ve been given. I’ll put the money in your PayPal account right now mom, but it’s time for you to get clean.” Lizbeth said as she clicked the hang-up icon on her mobile phone.

  Lizbeth stood in place, completing the transaction to send her mother $2,000 for God knows what, then knelt down and sobbed into Lady’s coat. Lady licked her face dry, eliciting little girl-like giggles from Lizbeth before they resumed their walk home.

  *****

  Upon arriving home, Lizbeth washed the sweat from her face and hands, chugged a glass of water and knelt before her home alter to pray.

  “Come on Lady, it’s time for Daimoku”, Lizbeth said as she lit smokeless incents and candles while Lady padded to her position, seated on Lizbeth’s right side.

  Lizbeth picked up her Juzu beads and began to breathe in deeply through her nose in a long slow inhalation. Then she exhaled slowly through her mouth as she chanted, “Nam-Myoho-Renge-Kyo, Nam-Myoho-Renge-Kyo, Nam-Myoho…”

  Buzz, buzz, buzz went the sound of Lizbeth’s mobile again. Normally she would ignore it during prayer, but since she had only just begun she decided to answer the call, rather than to be distracted and wondering who it was while she chanted and prayed.

  “Hello,” Lizbeth said, as she waited for the caller to respond.

  “Lizbeth, it’s Clay. How are you?”

  “Hi Clay,” Lizbeth said with a smile, “I was wondering when you might call. I’m good, how are you?”

  “Are you all packed for your trip to Texas”?

  “Yeah, as a matter of fact. We’ll be leaving to go to the airport in about three hours,” Lizbeth said, still smiling into the telephone.

  “Good, I’m glad that I caught you before you left. The editor loves this piece you’re working on, this 21st Century cowboys of North America article is turning out to be fantastic. That segment that you wrote about the Vaqueros of Mexico is just phenomenal, and they are really looking forward to how it ties into the history of how the Mexican cowboys taught the newly settled Texans how to operate a cattle ranch. I know that you haven’t found the right cowboy to write about in Texas so I just want you to take all of the time that you need down there. The magazine wants your Texas segment to really be spectacular.”