by Vicki Green
I lay there staring up at the ceiling. I’m sure I’ve missed dinner by now and I don’t care, even though I am a little hungry. I feel exhausted, cried out, and still I’m sad, tired and lonely. Then his face enters my mind. He’s so rugged, so manly, so sexy and so country. Ugh! Well, three out of four isn’t bad. I’ll be twenty one in just a couple of months and he’s twenty six. That’s not that far of a gap. He probably thinks of me as a spoiled, snotty brat, like everyone else. A child. It’s not like I wanted to run around like a loose girl, even though I’m still a virgin. Although no one knows that, except me. Everyone’s always thought the worst of me. Let ‘em.
A knock sounds on the door and I hold my breath. Maybe they’ll think I’m asleep.
“Sadie?” Mable’s voice travels through the thick wooden door. “I brought you somethin’ to eat, child.” Child. Sigh. My stomach growls. I let out the breath I was holding, get up and walk over to the door, turning the lock so she can come in. I return to bed and lay down again. I hear her enter but don’t look at her. She sets something down on the nightstand, and then I feel the mattress dip as she sits down at the foot of the bed. My eyes can’t help but look at her quickly and then back at the ceiling. “Men suck.” My eyes snap back at her, widening, and a laugh bursts from my lips. She looks at me with a smirk. “Well, they do. They don’t know how to talk to us women, comfort us, or know what we need. They’re all gruff and think that we’ll just do what they think and everythin’s gonna be all right.” I push my hands against the mattress and sit back against the headboard, listening intently. “Thing is, they do mean well.” She looks down and turns sad. “I was in love with Memphis’ Pa. It was really hard on me when he passed. I swore I would stay and look after Memphis.” She looks at me and smiles. “Wasn’t a hard thing to do. He’s a good man, Sadie.”
“He seems nice, in a rough kinda way,” I whisper. “He treats me like a child.” I can’t help the sadness that overtakes me. Will he ever think of me as a woman? Do I want him to? He stirs feelings inside of me that are foreign, dangerous, yet exciting, exhilarating.
She laughs and pats my leg. “Well, honey, I hate to say this but sometimes you act like it.” Great. Just what I wanted to hear. “He’s a little lost on how to help you. He’s not had to deal with many women.” I raise an eyebrow. Interesting. “Oh, he’s had his fair share of dates with some, and a lot of the women around here always biding for his attention, but none that took his fancy enough.” My mouth starts to turn into a smile but I catch myself. “He’s worked hard to keep his pa’s land looking as great as it does. He’s vowed to make sure nothing happens to it. His pa, God rest his soul, showed him the beauty of the land. Somethin’ I think you’d find would bring you some happiness, if you’d let it.” She stands and starts to walk out of the door. “Eat your supper. It’s not much but it’ll tide you over til morning.”
I sit up and slide my legs over the bed and grab the sandwich from the plate. I almost moan when I take a bite, not realizing just how hungry I was. Her words hit me deep in the pit of my stomach. How can land show me happiness? How can anything? I feel so alone again but yet, I almost felt like my mom was here as Mable spoke. Mom. God, I miss her so much. I scarf down the rest of the sandwich and then go into the bathroom, brush my teeth, relieve myself, wash my hands and face and then get my jammies on, getting back into bed. But sleep doesn’t come easily.
“Girl, you look exhausted! How ‘bout we go gentle on you today. Wanna help me do some cookin’? We have a new employee startin’ today.” Mable’s voice makes me look up as I walk to my seat in the dining room. New employee? Cooking? Neither sounds that great.
I start putting some pancakes on my plate, my mouth watering when the aroma hits me. “Yeah, I have to pick him up at the train station in a bit. Why don’t you relax today, Sadie?” I look up from pouring an obscene amount of syrup over my pancakes, and my eyes widen at Memphis’ voice. He chuckles, his low rumble eliciting those foreign feelings deep within me again.
I eat way more than I should have, always watching my figure, and am alone at the table by the time I’m done. I start to gather the dirty dishes and take them into the kitchen. I’m bowled over by what I smell. “What are you making?” Mable turns to me from the stove and smiles.
“I’m making some pies and jams today. Peach, apple and strawberry pie, and apple, peach, and blueberry jams. Wanna help?” I nod eagerly. Mom wasn’t much of a cook, but she did her best. I never really learned how to cook. “There’s a strawberry patch in the garden. Why don’t you go pick us some? Here….” She walks over to a door and opens it then brings out a basket. “Take this.” I set the dirty dishes down in the sink and then take it from her. “Fill it. There’s also blueberry bushes along the fence across from it. Pick some of those too. Need to get them picked before the frost hits soon.” She gets another basket and my job is set for the morning. I give her a smile back, feeling genuine for the first time since I came here, and walk out the back door.
Everything is so spread out here. I guess that’s a country life for you. I walk out to the garden which is a ways from the house. Not too far in perspective, I guess. I breathe in the fresh air. The breeze hits my face, blowing strands of my long hair around. It’s so green and alive here. Not like the city. No horns honking, no hurrying of people, no tall buildings. Silence, except for the wind blowing the leaves of the trees and the blades of grass, the sounds of cows mooing and an occasional snort of a horse. I look over to my left and see a gated area beneath a big tree. After setting the baskets down, I walk over, and as I approach my breath hitches at the sight of two tombstones. Slowly, I open the gate walking in until I’m standing in front of them.
Jarrett Johnson
Loving Husband and Father
1929 – 2014
I step over to the next one.
Evelyn Johnson
Beloved Wife and Mother
1929 – 1996
I bend down and touch the stone and feel a tear fall from my eye. At such an early age, he went through a lot of the same things I did. Even more than me. He’s so strong, vibrant. How can someone go through so much and be the way he is after all that? Suddenly, I feel weak, like I don’t know who I am, who I’m supposed to be. I sit down in the grass. I’ve always been stubborn. I guess I got that from my dad, but I’m young. I want to feel alive again, enjoy things I should enjoy. But, I’m not sure if I can change or how to. I also love being carefree, hanging out with my friends and having a little bit of danger in my life. Ugh! My head hurts with all this thinking. I stand, brushing the grass off my bottom and walk out of the area, shutting the gate behind me and walk back over to the garden. I guess it’s time to pick some berries and quit thinking so much. Maybe that’s safer.
I’ve found that picking berries is very therapeutic. Smelling the fresh air, the grass, the honeysuckle bushes nearby, and the berry bushes all overwhelming me. Doing the work of gathering them and filling the baskets made me feel like I accomplished something. Something that will be enjoyed by others later. I was…. satisfied.
Chapter Four
Memphis
The train’s on time for once. I’m a bit eager yet a little leery to meet this Jagger fella. His email sounded okay but ya just never know until ya get to know someone. The train stops in front of me, and I wait. Now, I have some tattoos myself, and I’m not the kind of person to judge others by what they look like but when this fella steps off the train, my leeriness just tripled. Jet black hair, half hanging over the side of his face, piercings in his brow, nose, lower lip and colorful tattoos over all the skin I can see. I have a couple of friends who have major piercings and tattoos too. Hell, they work over at the tattoo parlor in town, did my tattoos, but it’s the look on his face, tough, heartless that causes me to shiver. He’s dressed in a black muscle shirt, black jeans and black workers shoes. I sure hope this isn’t a mistake.
His entire facial expression changes when he sees me. He smiles, walks over, and extend
s his hand. A large backpack being held in the other and shaking his head back to get the hair away from his face. “Jag Roland. Are you Memphis?” I reach out and shake his hand. Firm grip.
“Yup. Nice to meet you, Jag,” I respond, feeling a little better about him.
I look over, releasing his hand, when a loud noise comes from the freight car. A ramp hits the wooden platform, and I watch as an attendant walks a motorcycle down. “Sorry. I don’t go anywhere without it.” Jag walks over to the cycle, and I follow, unsureness again evading me.
“This yours?” I ask hesitantly.
“Thanks, man.” He regards the attendant and then places his hands on the handle bars then looks at me. “Yeah, it’s mine. Beauty, ain’t she?” He looks at it fondly, kinda like I look at my truck.
I nod and then cock my head at him. “Why did you have me meet you when you could have driven yourself?” Strange.
“Oh! Sorry. Well, I get lost easily and thought I could just follow you there. Hope you don’t mind. Uh, can you take my bag and stow it in your truck?” He winks and suddenly bad feelings overwhelm me once again. I take his bag and just nod.
I’m pissed. I can’t help it. I could have gotten more work done instead of spendin’ my time coming here. I could have given him directions to the ranch, it’s not that hard to find. Second thing hits me. Selfish. I just nod again and start to walk to my truck, carryin’ his bag. “Follow me.” I hear him walkin’ behind me, the sound of his bike moving with him. I get to my truck, open the door and climb into the seat. The loud noise of his bike revving makes me look over. He smiles from his seat and nods.
It’s quiet on the way home, too much time to think. I wonder what Pa would think of this guy, what would he do? I sigh as I look in the rearview mirror. He’d give the guy a chance and not presume anything, not judge. “Okay, Pa. I’m really trying to do what you taught me.” I sigh, talking into the empty truck. “But dang. Sometimes it’s really hard.”
It seems to take a lot longer to get home than it did when I picked Sadie up. I guess it’s ‘cos I have no one to talk to and no noises but the open road and my music. The same feelings I have whenever I get home hit me as I pull in under our sign and look around at the green pastures as I drive up the gravel road to my house. I never grow tired of that. I pull up alongside my house, turn off my truck, and open the door. The loudness of his bike roars beside me, and I cringe inside. I watch him climb off, put the stand down, and then walk over to my truck, smiling at me as he pulls out his bag. He sets it down on the ground, squatting behind it, and removes a small plastic tarp. He leaves his bag and walks over to his bike, covering it up, tying the strings at the end.
“Can’t be too careful.” He smiles again as he walks back over, picks up his bag, and slings it over his arm. “Lead the way, boss.”
I nod and start walking over to the other house, hearing his footsteps come up beside me. “Names Memphis, not boss.” I look over and his smile is still there. He nods and winks at me. I walk up the front steps, open the screen door and go into the living area. “There’s five bedrooms down here on the main floor. Small kitchen over there but all the food is served in the dining room over at the main house. This is just if you want snacks, keep sodas, water, whatever.” I turn around and look at him, my eyebrow raising. “No beer or alcohol of any kind permitted and no drugs unless you have a doctor’s prescription or need some over the counter allergy pills or somethin’. Everythin’ needs to be run past me.”
“No problem,” he answers simply.
“Mac and Dallis have two of the bedrooms taken already so you can pick one of the other three. There’s only one bathroom down here so you have to share.” I point down the hallway at each room.
He nods again and then points to the stairs. “What’s up there?”
“Off limits,” I answer simply.
“Good enough.”
“It’s about lunch time so come on over to the house after you get settled.” I start to walk towards the front door and stop, turning around. He’d started to walk towards the hallway but stops when I speak. “Look. I’m a fair man. I don’t know what kind of trouble you’ve been in and I don’t want to know, not my business, but understand this…. We work hard here, eat good, proud of what we do each day. I don’t want no trouble. I also don’t have a problem calling the police or kicking anyone off my property that I see fit. I’m a pretty good fighter. I believe in giving everyone a fair shake but cross me, you’ll regret it. Make myself clear?” He nods at me, again with the smile, then walks into the hallway and outta my sight. A shiver overtakes me and that weird feeling hits me again. Lord, I hope it’s wrong.
I walk back to my house and when I open the door, the aroma hits me and ‘bout bowls me over. I start to walk into the dining room and shake my head. “It’s not Thanksgiving yet, is it?”
Sadie walks in from the kitchen, carrying a big bowl of green beans and sets it on the table. “Nope. Mable’s been teaching me how to cook.” She rocks on her tiptoes, looking all cute and happy. Hmmm.
“Well, uh, good. Surely that’s not a smile on your face, is it?” Her smile fades but as she walks over to her chair I see her fighting another one. I walk past the table and into the kitchen, straight over to the sink to wash my hands. “Mable? What in the hell did you do to her, she’s actually smilin’,” I ask as I tilt my head towards the dining room.
She laughs as she takes some pies out of the oven. “She had a great day today, don’t spoil it. Seems she’s rather good in the kitchen, well, still learnin’ but I think she’s enjoyin’ it.” I dry my hands and lean against the counter as I watch her take those yummy pies over to the wood block table and set them on cooling racks, the smell hits me hard. Right in my stomach. “Found out her poor mom never had a hankerin’ for cooking so she never taught her. She also spent the mornin’ pickin’ berries. I think she kinda liked that too.”
“That’s great. Maybe she can help you out more, even with the cleanin’ around here. Whaddya think?” I smile feelin’ great about the change. Maybe doin’ something she likes would be better for her, appreciate things better.
“I think you should ask her.” She smiles back at me. “But you know I don’t mind teachin’ her and I could always use the help. I ain’t gettin’ any younger.” She gives me another wink, and I nod back, then walk into the dining room and sit down in my chair. Mac and Dallis are already sittin’, and I’m surprised that Sadie has her hands in her lap, waitin’. Well, I’ll be damned.
I bow my head and fold my hands in front of me. “Lord, we thank you for what we are about to eat. Thank you for the beauty you’ve bestowed us, the land, the harvest, the animals that you put on earth for us. We thank you for each other, for the hard work we put in and for allowin’ us to work your land. Amen.” The others say their Amen and I even hear Sadie say it quietly as well. Clatterin’ begins as everyone starts fillin’ their plates. I reach over and pick up the peas, adding a good spoonful to my plate and hand the bowl to Dallis.
“So where’s the new fella?” Mac asks as I pick up the mashed taters.
“Right here.” The clanging of dishes and chatter stops abruptly, everyone turning their heads at the doorway. I’m a little shocked to see he’s changed into a long sleeved flannel shirt, blue jeans, and cowboy boots. He walks over, pulls out the middle chair, sittin’ next to Dallis and looks at me expectantly. Good choice of chair, not grabbin’ the open one next to Sadie.
“Folks, this is Jag Roland. Jag, that there’s Mac, Dallis and Sadie. Eat up. Lots of work to do after lunch.” I take in his stare at Sadie and then look down as I continue spooning up taters onto my plate. I shift my eyes over at him and watch him wink at me then he starts picking up bowls of food, placin’ some on his plate. My eyes squint a little as I think, he’s either a nice guy after all or he’s one hell of a liar. I surely hope it’s not the latter.
Sadie
Who in the hell is this hottie? Oh. My. God! Dark hair, long dark lashes, p
iercings and those tatts! Wow! He’s a little slimmer than I normally like though. Maybe working here will build up his muscles, like Memphis’. Ugh! There I go thinking about him again. I try not to look at him as I eat. I really try until his eyes shift over to mine. I look down quickly and stab some post roast with my fork, trying not to choke on it as I chew. My mind starts wandering as I slyly look over at Jag. I wonder what his story is. Did he have a bad childhood, is he on the run, does he make an amazing face as he cums? Damn! I’m horny.
“I hear you helped in the kitchen today, Sadie. How’d that go?” Memphis interrupts my lustful thoughts.
“Uh, what?” I shake my head, trying to focus.
“Kitchen. How’d that go today for ya?” He asks again. He has a weird look on his face. Jealousy? Anger? I can’t quite figure it out then again, I haven’t been able to figure him out yet anyway.
“Oh! It was good. I kinda liked it.” I try to hide my smile but then I think about the time I spent picking berries and when Mable showed me how to make pies and canning the fruit we made into jams. I had the best time I’ve had probably since Mom passed away.
“That’s great. How’d you like to spend more time helpin’ Mable with the kitchen and cleaning instead of doing the other chores?” Is he freaking kidding?
My mouth lifts into a big smile but I don’t care. “I would love that! Really?”
He chuckles and chews up a mouthful of food then swallows. “Really.”