by Paul A. Rice
Jane was delighted by the idea and helped them in any way she could. Ken didn’t let her do any heavy lifting or other strenuous tasks, even though she brushed off his concerns, he knew that she still wasn’t fully healed and had seen her occasional wince of pain when she didn’t think anyone was watching. A lot of the time, Jane simply took a hamper of food down to the mill and then happily sat and painted all day.
She had begun to realise what the writing on the note had meant, ‘Look and you will see…’ Jane had been looking, and she did see – she saw a whole lot. She saw the beauty of the farm, for a start. It had thrown off the dirty veil of neglect and washed away the mantle of bitter poison that it had worn for the best part of sixteen long years. It seemed to flourish and in doing so rewarded them in many pleasant ways. The gardens were growing magnificently, the lake teemed with fish, and even the house itself seemed to have taken on a different persona. It felt happy and alive, which, just so happened to coincide with exactly how Jane had begun to feel.
Sitting and looking at the men as they worked, she saw their surroundings were also having a positive effect on them. All three were lean and tanned – the sweat glistened on their naked torsos, sinews and muscles standing out sharply as they manoeuvred yet another heavy oak beam into place. Sitting in the warm sun, she watched them and smiled. As she did so, Jane knew this moment in their lives had been decided long ago, it was the way things were supposed to be. Knowing that helped push the fear of an unknown future to the back of her mind. ‘One day at time, just enjoy it and let’s see where we end up, shall we?’ She marvelled at the easy way in which the thought trickled through her mind, but she knew it was the truth.
***
Every day after lunch, Mike would take Red into town and drop him off at the store. Maggie had said that he may visit whenever he chose and Jane had struck up a deal with her. ‘Let him come,’ she said. ‘But you should get him to help out, Maggie. He’s a big guy and I don’t see that having him moping around like a love-sick puppy will be achieving anything.’
Maggie had looked at her knowingly. ‘Ah, Jane, my dear,’ she said, ‘you are so wise and so forthright; yes, it is the perfect solution, actually I do need some help. The big boxes are getting too much for me and Tori’s up to her eyes with the accounts. Yes, he can be of use and I will pay him for his time, after all, he is a man now and should be learning the value of work.’
The deal was done. Red would work at the store, where he would be with Tori, and he would have some money in his pocket. Every evening after the store closed, he and Tori would wander down to the ice cream parlour where Big Tony did the most amazing chocolate-fudge Sundaes, and then, once she had cashed up, Maggie would join the couple for a while before taking them back out to the farm. The short journey became a regular thing and they all looked forward to meeting up every evening.
Their visits became so regular that Ken had asked someone from the town council if they objected to him constructing an extension to the house.
The middle-aged man in the Mayor’s office had looked at him as though Ken had maybe been out in the sun a bit too much. He smiled, and said, ‘Well, sir, it’s young Dwayne’s place, and since his Daddy ain’t aroun’ to say otherwise, yo’all can build whatever it is you need, as long as it’s only a dwelling and not some commercial thang, then yo’all can build right up to the road, ifen you want to.’
Ken laughed, shook his hand warmly, and then made his way straight over to Jack’s hardware store. He had a big order in mind.
***
And so, with the completion of the windmill project – it now happily spun its newly-painted sails whenever the slightest breeze showed up – they set about the task of building somewhere more permanent to live on the farm. The plan would be for a small, self-contained extension to be added on the side of the original house. Once completed, Ken and Jane would occupy it and leave the motorhome for their guests, Maggie and Tori, to use whenever they came to stay. It was a grand plan and was soon underway with plenty of able assistance in the form of Jack and his green, flatbed delivery truck.
Red had turned sixteen; at least they guessed he had because no-one was really quite sure of the actual date of his birth. Maggie dug out an old newspaper clipping, which mentioned the death of his mother, and between them they ‘guesstimated’ the date of his arrival in this world. Red laughed at Jane’s slang and said he didn’t really mind, either way.
‘I ain’t ever had a birthday before, anyways,’ he said, with a shrug of his enormous shoulders. The three women looked at each other; between them they decided to change all that and immediately began planning a rather grand surprise party for the young man.
On the day it was to be more than half the town that came by. Mike ensured they parked behind the barn so all the vehicles were out of sight – Ken provided the biggest roast pig one could have imagined. He and Mike had spent long hours hidden in the barn figuring out a design for the spit-roast. With some welding and a bit of ‘good luck’, as Mike called it, they manufactured a giant device on which to impale the celebratory carcass.
Come the happy day, Ken had taken Red into town on some false pretext and then returned to help prepare the festivities. The surprised expression upon Red’s face, when he arrived back at the farm and stepped out of Maggie’s car, was one to behold. The entire front of the house was draped in ribbons and balloons, the previously-barren driveway laid with a thick covering of white gravel. In the middle lay a large bonfire, blazing away beneath the steel frame, which stood in readiness for the spit-roast to be hung.
Red stood there with his mouth open. ‘What the… my, oh…’
Flabbergasted, he turned to Tori as she stood grinning by his side.
She wore tight blue jeans and a white blouse, the heels on her boots easily propelled her height to six feet. With black hair hanging loose, she looked stunning, as was usual. Still smiling, she reached in to the Mazda and gave the horn a good blast. Hearing the prearranged signal, the guests burst forth from their hiding places within the house and the barn. Running over, they all gathered around the stunned young man and burst into the obligatory birthday song, even managing to keep it going all the way to the ‘Hip, Hip, Hoorays!’
Their congratulatory tunes made Red even more embarrassed.
He stammered: ‘I… I… well, thank yo’all kindly, I mean, you guys have gone and done all this for me? Gee… I mean…’ Then, Tori only made it worse by reaching up with her graceful neck and planting a long kiss straight on his lips. It was the first time that she had kissed him that way, in public, and all the guests applauded warmly.
Ken shouted from the porch: ‘Let’s have a party!’
And so they did.
Red was totally amazed by the array of wonderful gifts their friends and neighbours presented him with. There wasn’t one person there who didn’t know about the young man’s previous problems, and they were all happy for him. Every one of them gave him a hug and spoke words of congratulations and well-wishes to him. It was almost too much for Red to comprehend. Jane caught up with him, sitting on the steps of the veranda next to Tori.
‘Hello there, my great big sweetheart. Is everything okay with the birthday boy?’ she asked. Squeezing in next to them, Jane took his free hand in hers, saying: ‘This is what life is supposed to be like, Red. You do know that, don’t you, my love?’ He looked down at her and Jane saw he was very near to tears again.
‘Yes ma’am, I… I do,’ he stammered. ‘It’s just that, well… look at all these folks, look at all these presents!’ Red motioned with his head towards the mound of gifts, which lay piled on the table behind them. ‘Why are people so nice, why am I so lucky all of the time, why is all of this happening to me?’ He looked at Tori before turning to Jane, who sat to his left.
Jane said, ‘Because, Red, you are a very special young man, very special indeed! A lot of people are depending on you; your presence here makes a difference to us every day.’ She smiled at him and th
en rose to her feet, saying: ‘Just you enjoy this day, and make sure you become the good man that I know you are, otherwise all this will have been wasted!’
He nodded, whispering: ‘I will ma’am, I owe people a lot and I like my life right now, I want it to be like this forever!’ He grasped Tori’s hand and they both looked up at Jane again.
‘Well then,’ she said, ‘that’s all we can ask for, isn’t it? That’s more than enough.’ With a soft smile she climbed onto the porch and made her way inside to catch up with some of their guests.
Midway through the evening, Ken gathered everyone onto the porch and announced that Mike had something to show them. As they stood in the glow of the large fire, which he had stoked up after the pig had become nothing more than a pleasant memory, Ken called Red and Tori over.
Red looked at Ken, expectantly asking: ‘What yo’all gone and done now, there ain’t no more surprises, are there?’ His excitement once more allowed some of the mostly-absent twang to return to his deep voice. Ken nodded his head to where Mike was walking out of the shadows. Red looked over and watched.
Mike was pushing the old Harley, only it didn’t appear to be quite so old anymore, and it most definitely wasn’t grey, either. Mike had been in the barn working on the bike for the past few nights, Jane had been there with him, painting as normal, but this time it wasn’t watercolours that she had been using, and the motorcycle had been her blank canvas. She’d made several trips into the nearby towns and eventually managed to gather a large box filled with primers, paints and lacquers. As Mike pushed the bike into the light of the fire, the results of their labours were able to be seen more clearly.
Every nut and bolt had been cleaned and polished; the springs and cables, levers, grips and foot-pegs, all looked like new. Even the ancient spokes had received some of Mike’s magic. The motorcycle rolled effortlessly on its freshly-greased bearings as Mike brought it to a halt in the centre of the driveway. Red stepped across, holding Tori by the hand, and squatted next to the machine to scrutinise the paintwork.
The bike was mostly black and red in colour, Jane had managed to get it so the paints seemed to melt into each other, it looked really great, but the tank was something else – she had painted a mural upon its tear-drop shape, and it was simply stunning. The mural depicted a scene of Red and Tori. They were riding a fire-breathing white horse that rose on its hind legs to paw at the air with its front hooves. Tori sat clutching Red around the waist, with that long black hair billowing out behind her, she was pointing over his shoulder at the sky above them. Red had a grin on his face and was also looking up at the sky. The blood-red horizon had a green tinge to its outer edges and was speckled with tiny dots of light.
The real Red saw that his image was gazing up at a strange spaceship, one that seemed to be bursting free from the clutches of a spinning black whirlpool. All around the ship were beautiful pictures of planets and stars. Red knelt and looked at them in awe. The final thing that Jane had done was to paint the bike’s name down each side of the tank. It stood out in red letters and seemed to have been highlighted with some amazingly translucent, green paint.
Tori whispered: ‘Oh wow!’ and then reached out to stroke her fingers across the words as they lay in magnificence on the side of the petrol tank.
TORI’S GLORY
She stood, walked across to Mike and then kissed him on the cheek; he pushed the hair back from her forehead and gave her a gentle, brotherly kiss on both cheeks. She and Mike had a certain ease with each other and, just as he was with Red, Mike easily wore the mantle of the older, caring brother for Tori as well. Jane had seen them together – Tori seemed completely at ease when in the company of their tall friend. Actually, if the truth were to be known, Jane had encountered some other thoughts regarding the handsome couple who presently stood looking into each other’s eyes.
Thoughts she perhaps shouldn’t have allowed to enter her head, scandalous thoughts that would have done any weekly women’s magazine proud – thoughts that were nothing more than shallow, baseless and spiteful, but, when she had seen them together, walking along the banks of the lake, shoulders rubbing and heads turned towards each other as they shared some deep conversation, Jane had wondered about them. They had an easy way with each other. On the odd occasion when she had watched the couple, glancing at one and other, there had been the sense of some shared secret lying beneath the surface of their casual friendship. Tori did seem very much in love with Red, but…Mike was an extremely good-looking guy, and he had a way with women.
Shaking off those silly thoughts, Jane turned back to the fire and watched the proceedings.
Red stood up and looked across at Jane and Mike, saying: ‘Thank yo’all so very much, it’s just the mightiest fine thing that I did ever see, man it’s so damned-cool!’ He grinned and threw a leg over the saddle.
Tori walked over and hugged Jane, then turned and stepped onto the pillion footrest before hoisting her other leg over the back seat. Together they sat there and grinned at everyone who came over to see the bike. It was a wonderful moment and Red gave them a demonstration of his riding skills by roaring around the yard two or three times. The engine was now running sweetly, so he did another couple of circuits just to make sure. Finally, he pulled up, cut the ignition and leaned the bike onto its stand. Tori alighted gracefully and made a little bow. Their friends applauded and whistled. It was a fine time and Mike and Jane were inundated with praise and good wishes.
The party stayed in full-swing for a few more hours, after which people began to drift away. They had farms and businesses to run the next day and the night was getting late. Red and Tori made it their duty to say goodbye to each and every one of their guests as they departed. The young couple were still beaming from ear-to-ear and stood holding hands and waving wildly at the various vehicles as they left the farm.
Sometime after midnight they were done, all the remains of the celebrations had been cleared away, and apart from the ribbons and balloons, the house was nearly back to its former, pre-party, self. After a nightcap, and some heartfelt thanks from Red, they decided to get some rest; Ken said that he would have the couch in the farmhouse, thus allowing the women to share the motorhome as it would save Maggie and Tori the tedium of a late night journey back into town. Ken quickly checked to make sure the fire was not in danger of burning the whole place down before making his way into the lounge for a well-earned sleep.
Very soon the house was once more in darkness; the clouds had breached the rampart of the distant hills and began flooding across the plains towards the farm. Their heavy, moisture-filled masses were no longer able to contain themselves and it wasn’t long before the rain began to fall heavily. The rivulets of rainwater soon became a racing torrent that headed purposely downhill to the river bed; its passing cleaned the earth, leaving only the strongest survivors to await the anticipated warmth of the new day. Unfortunately, the storm did more than simply wash a few clumps of dry grass and scraggy bushes away, the dark clouds also had one other burden to rid themselves of.
Spikes of jagged lightning began to split the air, quickly followed by hoarse peals of thunder. It crackled and boomed across the valley before echoing off the hills for miles around. The smell of frying ozone filled the air and was soon joined by another odour. Amongst the darkness, and in a heated battle of wills against the wetness of the rain, the rich smell of burning oak trestles, tar-paper and freshly-creosoted pine, began to drift through the storm-filled air.
If any of the occupants of the farm had been awake, the flickering glow on the horizon would have been somewhat more than disconcerting. In fact, had they known what a dreadful few days awaited them, the odds were that Ken and his crew would probably all have piled into the RV and taken a small vacation. One that should have lasted until the storm had passed.
Most probably they would have.
28
Written In Stone
Some things cannot be changed. They are simply meant to be.
They spent the following day lounging around the farm. Maggie had gone into town early. ‘Some of us have to work for a living, you know,’ she had said, jokingly. Then, and in complete contradiction, the old woman had told Tori to take the day off. Red and Tori didn’t present any argument, within minutes they had taken ‘Glory’ for a spin around the farm. Jane knew they would be gone for hours, so before they went she handed them Ken’s backpack containing a few drinks and some bacon sandwiches. Tori shouted her thanks as she executed her trademark vault onto the back of the bike. After watching them zoom off down to the lake, Jane returned to her painting, where she’d been busy trying to recapture the scenes from last night’s festivities.
Red seemed to have given his sketching a wide birth of late, and Jane guessed it was probably due to other things occupying his mind. She smiled at the thought of how happy the huge young man and his equally-tall partner seemed to make each other, it was another one of those little things, little ‘George’ things. Things which made her wonder: ‘No matter how many changes you made, some things were just plain old meant to be!’ Jane let her brushes do the talking and went about her work with a passion, letting the warm air and fresh smells inspire her.
Last night’s storm had left the farm smelling even fresher than was normal, the dry earth greedily lapping up the rain drops. A thrush sat happily in its freshly replenished bath, puffing its feathers and ducking luxuriously under the water. Jane watched as the bird hopped onto the roof and lazily spread its wings to let the warm sunshine work its magic. She placed her brushes back on the tray, took a seat on the porch, and decided to sit and watch for a while.
‘Life doesn’t get any better than this, these are the days we will remember for ever,’ she thought. ‘I don’t care about going back, don’t care about tomorrow…’ It was midway through her small session of self-indulgence when Jane heard the sound of the motorcycle again.