by Aimee Bishop
“Um… Okay.”
“Promise me!”
“I promise!”
“Good,” she said and narrowed her eyes.
Then she walked away, leaving me shivering.
~
The barn was freezing. My feet, thrust into an old pair of Martha’s boots, were numb. I sat on a stool and kicked at the ice forming on the ground. Beside me, or rather above me, stood a cow. It was foul smelling and surprisingly threatening.
“Okay, you pull the teat like this,” said Bernard as he reached underneath it.
I thought I was going to be sick. The smell was catching the back of my throat, and the look of that udder pulled tight between his fingers made me queasy.
“Okay, now you do it,” he said.
With a trembling hand, I reached out for the udder and thought there could be nothing more horrendous than wrapping my fingers around it. It looked rubbery and weird, and the cow didn’t look so happy about my presence either.
“Her name’s Isabel,” said Bernard.
“What?”
“Mind your mouth, young lady. Around here you’ll say I beg your pardon if you’re uncertain about something.”
I sighed and stared at the udder. The last thing I wanted to do was touch it.
“Okay. I beg your pardon,” I huffed. “You said her name was Isabel?”
“That’s right,” he smiled and tipped his cap up to the animal. “Old Izzy has served us well.”
Nutcase, I thought. He was friendlier to the cow than he was to me.
“Don’t be afraid of her,” he said.
My hand was still outstretched, just about to clutch onto the udder, but I just couldn’t bring myself to inch closer and hold it.
“Don’t be shy,” he said and took my hand.
He clamped it around the udder. It felt squishy and weird between my fingers.
“Eeeuw!” I recoiled back. “I’m not doing it.”
“Abigail. You come back here. While you’re in this house, you will do what you’re told.”
But it was too late. I was already hurling my apron to the ground and running out of the barn.
“Abigail!”
I wanted out of this place, wanted to be somewhere warm, with Wi-Fi and espresso.
“I’m not doing it!” I shouted over my shoulder as I ran down the winding driveway.
Behind me, I could hear the stuttering of an engine as Bernard chased me on his tractor. You’ll never catch me, I thought. I’d rather die than go back into that barn.
It was dark, but still early. The clock on the kitchen wall read five o’clock again. I felt like I’d been up for days. I yawned and held my head in my hands while Martha stood over me with a rolling pin in her hand. From the look in her eyes, I thought there was a chance she might beat me with it.
“We’re going to make you see sense,” she said. “What you’ve done today is the rudest, most ungrateful display of behavior I’ve ever goddamn seen. Father forgive me for using your name in vain, but I’m just so angry right now!”
I hung my head lower. This was crazy. This was the worst. At this point, I’d rather be back at home getting yelled at by dad.
“Sorry,” I mumbled.
“You will be,” said Martha. “You will be.”
She slapped the rolling pin against her palm and once again. I was thoroughly convinced she was going to thrash me on the head with it. I was surprised, then, when she set it down on the counter.
“All we ask of you is that you pull your weight around here. Your parents wanted us to teach you the life we’ve lived that has led us to be honorable people. They wanted us to show you how the wicked ways of the city have corrupted you. But today you threw all of that back in our faces. You showed nothing but contempt to Bernard and Isabel.”
She smoothed her hair down over her scalp and pursed her lips in thought.
“I don’t want to do this,” she continued. “I don’t want to punish you, but I have to.”
Oh, my God will she just hurry up! I thought. It was torture sitting here listening to her soliloquy about the perils of modern living. If she was going to spank me or whatever, I wanted it over with.
“Your punishment for tonight,” she said and scratched her head. “Is to go to bed without supper.”
“That’s it?”
“You want more, young lady? You want a beating too?”
“No! I mean, thank you. I mean, I deserve to go to bed without supper.”
She watched me warily for a moment then pointed up the stairs.
“Well, off you go. I expect you to be up and ready for work at five-thirty. Now say your prayers.”
I didn’t have the heart to tell her that I wasn’t particularly religious. There was no telling what she’d do. She’d probably drop dead on the spot.
“Goodnight,” I said, as I made my way upstairs. “And God bless.”
The hours were going so slowly it felt as though they were going backward. My phone said it was almost seven o’clock, but it felt like the middle of the night. With no television or internet, I’d just been staring into space for the past two hours feeling like I was losing my mind. There weren’t even any books in the house apart from the Bible, and even that was starting to look tempting.
I held my phone up to the window in the hope that somehow, I’d be able to get a signal. That way I’d at least be able to call Lucy and Amanda, but there was no luck. Now my phone was nothing more than a costly camera, but what was I supposed to take photos of when I was stuck up here? Damp walls and dark skies?
I tossed it onto my dresser and slumped against the headboard. Looking into the distance, there were nothing but fields interspersed with the occasional house. Since I’d arrived, I hadn’t seen anyone but Martha and Bernard. I’d never been so bored in my life.
Hugging my pillow for some extra warmth, I churned over all the things I could do to pass the time. I could work out, that would keep me warm and pass the time. I could read that Bible over there or…
An idea sprang to mind. Just below my window was Bernard’s old rusty truck. Something made me slide open the window and peer down. My heart began to race when I saw the moonlight glint of something dangling in the ignition.
“He left his damn keys in the truck.” I laughed. “Hallelujah!”
Before I could change my mind, I pulled on my coat and scarf and sat on the window ledge. It was colder than I’d ever felt before and the ground was icy. But… If I angled my jump correctly, I could land on the roof of the truck. It didn’t seem too far down, about six feet. I’d pole vaulted higher than that in high school.
I closed my eyes for a second and felt the breeze on my face, then I looked behind me and took one last glance at the dark room.
“Okay, just do it.”
Taking a deep breath, I jumped. My feet landed on the roof the truck with a thud before I slipped on the ice and landed on my side.
“Motherfucker!”
My ribs ached badly, but I was okay. I looked up at the window and couldn’t believe I’d jumped that far. From down here, it looked a whole lot higher than six feet.
Now all I had to do was start the truck without them hearing. That was going to be a grand task. Out here, the sound traveled for miles. I was just going to have to be quick. I creaked open the driver’s door, climbed inside and twisted the key in the ignition. The engine sputtered to life like a robot coughing its lungs out. There was no way they didn’t hear that.
“Shit.”
I stepped on the gas and tore down the driveway.
“Screw this place. I’m getting out, “I said to myself. In my coat I had my phone, my purse, and some lip gloss.
What else did a girl need?
CHAPTER 6 – JEREMIAH
“For goodness’ sake, Harry. Will you shut the hell up?”
He was barking ferociously, jumping up at the window and pawing at the glass.
“What’s the matter with your damn dog?” asked dad.
> Beside him, Nathan tried to calm him down, patting his back and scratching the top of his head.
“Whatsa matter, boy? There a fox out there?”
“Probably a squirrel,” said dad as he rolled his eyes. “That dog will chase just about anything.”
Except that wasn’t true. He was a good dog and only got angry like this when there were strangers on the property.
“Something’s not right,” I said. “I’m heading outside.”
“Ah, quit being so paranoid,” said dad. “You’ve been getting so uppity since Sandy left.”
“She didn’t leave,” I said, as I reached for the shotgun. “I kicked her out.”
As soon as I opened the door, Harry sprinted outside and dashed through the trees.
“Hey, get back here.”
But he was nothing but a fading dot of fur in the distance. I followed him as fast as I could, struggling to keep up his pace as the snow reached my knees.
Through the trees, I could hear him barking. It was then, as I strained my ears, that I could just about make out the faint rumbling of a truck, Bernard’s truck. It was getting closer, making its way up the steep mountain path toward the house.
“What the hell?”
He’d never been this far up before, so what was he doing here now? I thought back to the girl in his truck, and something didn’t add up. Something must be going on with him.
Stepping out onto the road, I saw Harry run toward the headlights.
“Get back here you dumb dog!”
But he was excited, running headlong into the path of the truck. It was getting faster now too, the engine struggling to get the old truck up to the mountain.
“Harry!”
In only a few seconds, the headlights grew from a speck on the horizon to blinding floodlights. I raised an arm to shield my eyes. Just over the top of my sleeve, I could just about make out the shape of Harry as he became eclipsed by the electric light.
“Harry!”
There was a screech, the sound of tires spinning on the ice, then an almighty crash and a scream. The headlights veered off the road. As I lowered my arm, I had to blink a few times to clear the stars from my eyes.
“Harry?”
He was still barking, running around in circles as though he alone had taken down the truck. It was now in the ditch on its side with the wheels still spinning. The smell of leaking oil and gas permeated the air.
“Bernard!”
I rushed over to the driver’s side and jumped up to rip the door open. But it wasn’t Bernard. Instead, a pretty face was peering up at me from under the seatbelt with a ribbon of blood trickling from her forehead.
“Oh, my God,” she managed to say as she released her seatbelt and sat up. “Don’t tell my parents.”
CHAPTER 7 - ABIGAIL
“What were you doing? You could have died!”
“I was trying to swerve out the way of your dog,” I said. “What is that thing anyway? A freaking wolf?”
“Malamute,” he said as though that would make any sense to me.
His voice was gruff with an accent I’d only ever heard on old made-for-TV movies. It was all sweet country life, and as manly as Chuck Norris fighting a wild bear. I waited for him to reveal that he was a lumberjack. He certainly looked like one. In his plaid shirt and heavy boots, he had muscles in places I didn’t know existed, and deep auburn hair sprouted out from under his hat.
He bent down to inspect the cut on my head, and for the first time, my eyes met his. They were dazzling and green like a miniature emerald universe.
“What are you doing up here?” he asked.
He couldn’t hide the hostility in his voice.
“And why are you driving Bernard’s truck?”
“He’s my… He’s my…”
I couldn’t get the words out. I got lost in his eyes. They were staring right into my head, into my soul.
And that jawline of his! It could cut glass. It could take a punch from Mike Tyson and probably break his knuckles too.
“He’s your what?” he asked.
“He’s my grandfather.”
He paused and crossed his arms.
“Grandfather.”
“Yep.”
“You’re Bernard’s granddaugther…”
He raised his eyebrows and shot me a skeptical look, but the outcome was that my heart began to race. That look made my stomach flip. It was time to admit that the guy was gorgeous and he’d saved my life. If he hadn’t gotten me out of that ditch and I probably would have frozen to death.
“How come I’ve never heard of you?” he asked, his arms still folded in front of him, keeping me at a distance.
“Because their daughter - my mom, Caitlyn - ran away from home when she was young and shacked up with my dad. Apparently, it was un-Christian, and the idea that my mom was living in sin with some city slicker was too much to handle. She was cut off. Except for every Christmas when she’d always phone Bernard to tell him she loved him, no matter what.”
“Wait… Wait…”
He waved a hand in front of his face in disbelief.
“You’re telling me you’re Caitlyn’s daughter!”
I nodded.
“You know her?”
“Hell, everyone knew her! She was a legend around here, a real party animal. It was no surprise that she took off. Way too good for this backwater.”
For a moment, he looked up at the ceiling and his eyes glossed over with something that I could only assume was nostalgia.
“You look a lot like her,” he said. “The same eyes and hair.”
“Thanks, I guess.”
But I was flattered. Mom was the most beautiful woman I knew. When I was growing up, I thought she was a real princess.
“But that doesn’t answer my question,” he continued, crouching down in front of me. “What were you doing driving up here? Don’t you know this is private property?”
“I didn’t know that. I promise.”
I raised my hands in defense and began to panic. There was no knowing what could happen next if I made him angry.
“I didn’t know! I was trying to get away from that freakin’ house. I was just trying to go anywhere!”
“Yeah, well you’ll be going nowhere in that truck from now on. The thing is wrecked.”
After he’d pulled me free and helped me back to his house, he’d sent his older brother and dad out to tow the truck. They’d been outside, banging around under the hood for the last twenty minutes making exasperated old man noises and talking about mechanical parts that sounded alien to me.
“I’m sorry,” I whimpered and hung my head. “I’m having such a hard time.”
He softened slightly and sat on the sofa beside me. I could smell him now, and I caught the scent of pine needles and whiskey. It was surprisingly nice.
“I hate to say this, but I reckon it’s going to get a whole lot worse for you. Bernard’s a strict, God-fearing man.”
“Urgh, tell me about it.”
There was the hint of a mischievous smirk on the edges of his lips, but he quickly reigned it in.
“And he won’t let you get away with this. He’s had that truck longer than you’ve been alive, and people around here don’t go around buying the latest models of things. They make do with what they have, they mend, and they borrow and barter. It’s in their blood.”
“Is oatmeal and water in their blood too?” I asked. “And refusing to watch television?”
He leaned back and gave me an apologetic smile.
“Mostly,” he said. “But we’re not all like that.”
He pointed at his television.
I hadn’t noticed it before. In the confusion I’d been in a daze, taking nothing in but his gorgeous face. Now I looked around and saw that what I previously expected to be a log cabin was modern on the inside. It could have been the home of any of my friends. There were no words to describe the relief that washed over my body when he switched on the TV an
d pointed toward the kitchen.
“Hazelnut latte?” he asked.
“Holy shit, yes!”
He laughed and headed inside. A moment later, I could hear the sound of the milk frother as I flicked through the channels and settled on a movie. When he appeared with two steaming cups and a pack of cookies tucked beneath his arm, I thought I would burst with joy.
“Hopefully better than oatmeal and water,” he laughed.
He handed me the cookies. I saw they were white chocolate and macadamia.
“My favorite.” I smiled.
He laughed again, and it was then that I noticed he was holding something else, a box of Band-Aids.
“You’re lucky the cut on your head’s not that bad. Best to patch it up anyway.”
With nimble but strong fingers, he tore open a strip and leaned into me. Now he was so close I could feel the heat from him. I held my breath as he came closer and when he brushed the hair from my forehead, my heart started beating like a jackhammer.
He’s so close! I thought. Just a few more inches and…
He pressed the Band-Aid to my head, and I closed my eyes. For the most fleeting of seconds, there was nothing to worry about, nothing to think about at all. There was just the touch of this gentle giant. In the last two minutes, he’s shown me more care and attention than Bernard and Martha could have ever done.
“There, all better,” he said, and for the first time, he smiled.
It lit up his face. It lit up the whole room. For a moment it lit up my entire life.
I don’t ever want to leave here, I thought to myself as I nibbled along the edge of a cookie.
As I watched TV, I felt the heat of his gaze on the side of my face. I glanced over at him, and he quickly turned away, his cheeks flushing red.
Maybe he’d like me to stay here too, I thought.
CHAPTER 8 – JEREMIAH
So, she was Caitlyn’s daughter. I always did wonder what happened to that wild child. She drove her parents insane and couldn’t be more opposite than Bernard if she tried. There were rumors that she’d run away or been sent away. I’d even heard that she’d been swallowed up by the sins of the city, but all of that was a load of old hooey. She was just a young woman who wanted a chance at life and took it. I couldn’t blame her. I would have done the same thing if I hadn’t met and married Sandy.