by Hawk, CJ
Katelyn's frustration over the whole matter was showing her discomfort as she squirmed in her seat. "I really don't want to talk about it. It was my brother who texted me the site and told me that Kia might enjoy the laugh. I don't know why he does those kinds of things. He's a good-looking guy with such potential, and then he goes and looks at sites like those."
In unison, Jodi, Meg and I said it with such conviction. "He's a man!" There was so much truth to those three little words. We three figured it out at an early age. Guys were guys, and they were going to do stupid stuff that we women thought were, well, either wrong, gross or just plain stupid. I for one was willing to overlook all that as long as the man was cute, could kiss well and could accept the fact that a life with me was a life of bailing me out of a bunch of mishaps or misfortunes.
Katelyn looked at us funny and then started to eat her salad. Jodi reached for my hand holding my fork in a stabbing position and about to stab my salad as if it was Carlene. "Look, it's to be expected with that woman. She did however, change your name a bit on her blog and twitter thing, probably so your dad won't sue her dad - boy those two go way back don't they. I think those two hate each other as much as you two do. Any ways, the locales know it's you and from what I can tell they are defending you. People here love you. They know your heart is always in the right place; it's usually your foot that's not."
That caused Meg to start laughing. "Oh my God, that reminds me. Remember the time that Scooter thought he should attempt third base with you. You kicked him so hard in the nuts he had a bag of frozen peas stuck between his legs for weeks. You couldn't get a guy in high school to date you let alone kiss you for two years."
"Ha-ha. I forgot about that. Let's all shall we." I finally stabbed my salad like it was Carlene and then raised my hand to signal to my waitress. I ordered a beer. One for lunch did not make me an alcoholic, just a person trying to cope.
"Make that a round." Meg instructed to the waitress. "I think we all could use a drink."
I watched Meg grab a hair clip out of her bag, twist her beautiful Latino brown hair up in a twist, and clip it. "Change of subject. Ladies, that is the last time you will see my long brown hair for a bit. Love For Locks is doing a benefit at the Indigo Curl-n-Beauty Parlor. Getting it all cut off."
I envied her hair. My hair grew so slow and was so much thinner than her gorgeous thick brown hair. She would cut it and a few months later; it was back. We weren't shocked about it; it wasn't the first time she had done this. The rest of us would if we could. Katelyn's blonde hair had always had this natural soft curl to it, and she could never grow it past her shoulders before she went in for a cut. Jodi had her hair in a short punk style, for as long as we could remember. Her jet-black hair always had some strip of color in it. This month was bright purple. My brown hair stayed in a simple brown shoulder length cut that framed my face with a shag and was usually up in a clip or ponytail. What could I say? I was a simple girl who did not think playing up my features was an important thing. That being, because I was so busy getting myself out of some type of conundrum or another.
The waitress dropped off the four light beers in a bottle and four cold frosted glasses. Not a one of us worried about the glass. Katelyn wanted to, but Jodi was already holding hers up for a toast. "To Kia. May her last disaster, be her last and all her others be forgotten. May luck shine upon her face as the wind blows all her bad luck away. May those that have been misfortune to cross her path forgive you and those that are still recovering, be steadfast and strong."
Our bottles clinked and the three cheered. "Here. Here." I just guzzled the entire beer down in one long drink. I slammed the empty beer bottle against the table and let out a ferocious belch. Just then, one of the local deputies walked by shaking his head in disgust on his way to the men's restroom. I wasn't sure which, but I figured that was my clue to end lunch soon and get as fast away from the law as possible. I had enough of them in the last week and one man in particular, Sheriff Cleat, was finally well enough for me to visit. It wasn't like I tried to blow him up, but I guess that man had spent a lifetime of rescuing me from catastrophes and the last one just almost did him in.
How was I to know that after Sheriff Cleat pulled me up from the rock ledge I had slipped down while hiking by myself, was also located next to an old coal mine? How was I to know that the funny pipe sticking up out of the hillside was also an old airway for miners? Furthermore, I had never smoked a cigarette in my life, but I found a pack with a lighter while I sat there contemplating how I almost died falling over that edge, and if it wasn't for Sheriff Cleat being out on a call for minors - children - tagging a historic rock with spray paint - I might have died. Therefore, I did what any logical person might have done. I grabbed that pack of cigarettes just calling my name, pulled a cigarette out of the pack and lit up. It was then, that all my gagging and coughing got Sheriff Cleat off his radio and rushing to my side once more. It was also then, that I flicked the cigarette away as fast as I could, because I didn't want to be smoking by the sheriff. Not that it was illegal; I just did not want anyone to see me do something I had never done before. It felt sinful to me at the time. Once I assured the sheriff that I swallowed a bug, he took the few steps back that landed him right above where that funny pipe stuck out of the ground. Right where that lit cigarette fell down that four-inch hole. Put two and two together, and add my luck, and you can only imagine what happened next.
Yup, that's right. Old Sheriff Cleat needed his own rescuing. The cigarette blew up the old coal; the hillside fell out from beneath the sheriff's feet, and the kaboom could be heard countywide. Lucky for the sheriff, a broken arm, broken ribs, a few black and blue marks and some singed hair, and he was marked for early retirement by the county. The terrible concussion that left him unconscious for a few days was the tip of the iceberg. When he came to, the county told him they needed a much younger able person to handle the job, and the rest of the county staff agreed. Old Sheriff Cleat saw his last rescue with me. He got a very nice retirement package, and I got a case of the guilt that still needed to be cleansed.
My next stop after lunch was the hospital where I had a brand new fishing rod and reel, wrapped up in a silver paper and a blue bow, along with a gift card from my employer Sports Emporium, for a very friendly amount. Being an inventory manager had its benefits, especially when a sportsman like old Sheriff Cleat keeps coming to my rescue.
Katelyn's comment caught my whirlwind of thinking back off guard. She grabbed a small bamboo basket with a handle that was on the floor next to her and put it on the table. "Since you're going by to see the sheriff at the hospital after this, I thought I might just bake up a little something for you to take to help with the apology."
This was so Katelyn. "Thanks Kate." I took a peek inside and out wafted the smell of homemade cookies, chocolate brownies, cinnamon rolls and some kind of chocolate-covered nuts. All homemade, no doubt. Jodi tried to grab at something, and Katelyn smacked her hand.
I knew I couldn't take another bite of salad, and I also knew as soon as that basket sat in the front seat of my yellow Mini Cooper on the drive to the hospital, chances were, my self-control would lose out, and I would sneak a cookie - or brownie. It would be a dastardly decision either way.
I finally put my napkin over my half-eaten weed salad and declared my lunchtime over. "Ladies. I've got to run. Thanks for meeting me for lunch. Thanks, I guess, for informing me that my life is being twisted by my arch nemesis for all to read about." I stood up from my chair, slung my purse over my shoulder while tossing a twenty on the table to cover my fair share and then some. I grabbed at the basket handle and blew a kiss to my three best friends.
It didn't take long for them to come running out to the parking lot when they heard the loud crash. It was only me, running the back end of my car into a wayward shopping cart I had not seen. In my defense, there was not any stores in the area that had shopping carts. I waved at my three best friends with my window down and drov
e forward with a remark to Jodi. "Mind getting that mangled mess out of the parking lot; it's your turn to clean up my mess."
She saluted me like a soldier salutes a sergeant, and I pulled out of the parking lot, down the street and at the first red light, I devoured a homemade chocolate brownie. I was a weak woman at times like these.
Chapter Two
As I sat in the waiting chair outside the hospital room, I watched the two deputies rip open my gift to Old Sheriff Cleat like it was a bomb or suspect package. I rolled my eyes as they inspected the rod and reel then a conversation at the nurse's desk, opposite me, caught my undivided attention. It was as if they were talking, and I was not sitting directly across from them, or maybe they had no clue what Kia Catastrophe looked like.
"I heard they brought in this guy, who was a Special Forces agent, retired but young, from the military." Nurse One
"I heard he was hot!" Nurse Two
The rest of the conversation jumped back and forth between the two like this.
"I not only heard that, I saw a picture of him on Carlene's blog about Ms. Catastrophe. She even posted pictures of him without his shirt on."
"Seriously? How does she get all this info? She must be one hell of a reporter to get all these pictures. I heard she had pictures of the blow up site at the time that it happened to Old Sheriff Cleat."
Doubt it. There was not a soul around for at least half a mile. There were no cameras there, and I certainly did not capture the event. There was no doubt in my mind, they were fake. The fact that one of the few things that Carlene was good at was photo-manipulation with pictures remained true.
"She's amazing in her details of the stories." Not sure which nurse said that because I had my eyes closed tight and my fingers pinching the bridge of my nose. I felt a migraine coming on, and it goes by the name of Carlene.
Again, ladies, those are all made up fictitious facts. So what if she was good at story telling. I was the one with the degree, and I know for a fact that I was even better at writing than Carlene. It was the only thing I excelled at better than her in school, besides math, so it was the one thing I decided to achieve a degree in.
"Did you know that Carlene also has an autobiography on Ms. Catastrophe she is working on?"
"No. But did you know, that this new guy they are bringing in is not only hot, he's single. This county doesn't have enough cute single guys. They have retirees; they have married or the few single are such slim pickings you might as well become a lesbian since there are so many women fighting over them."
"I wonder if he prefers blondes or brunettes?"
"After I saw his picture, I hope he likes Hale Berry look a likes."
"Ugh!" That was me they were talking about while I was sitting right in front of their blind dimwitted eyes. Besides, the woman did not look like Hale Berry, more like a Hal Berry instead of a female. Her backside was three of me, and her front side had enough clearance it could dust the countertops. The other nurse was two months past dyeing her black roots platinum blonde - either way she was in dire need of a really great hair dresser. I think both nurses might serve themselves better by taking a few minutes at the gym and calling up their hairdressers before they went in search of some hot new sheriff. However, they got me wondering on how good looking, he might actually be.
Both nurses turned and looked at me as if they could read my mind. Just then, one of the deputies walked over and handed me the sheriff's unwrapped gift. "You can go in and see him now, but leave your purse with us to inspect."
I handed my purse over to the taller lankier deputy, and then abruptly grabbed the rod and reel. I gave the two nurses a glare and turned on my heels with purpose in my step. Two steps into the sheriff's room and one very happy smile on the sheriff's face it dawned on me. I DID NOT want those deputies to see what was in my purse. I set the basket of goodies on his tray table, just as I let out a huge loud gagging sound. "Ugh!"
Both deputies rushed into the room. The one holding my purse had his gun drawn. I snagged my purse out of his hand and spoke up like I was the drill sergeant. "You will not be inspecting my purse!"
Old Sheriff Cleat nodded, and the two deputies left the room shaking their heads.
There are times that, what is in a woman's purse, should only be known to her. This was definitely one of those times.
"Sheriff?"
"Kia. What's in the basket?"
I smiled. He knew that in the basket was Katelyn's specialty cooking of decadent delicious desserts. I slung my purse over my shoulder, set the rod and reel off on an empty chair, and put my hands up as if I was being arrested. "I confess. I sneaked one on the way over here. A needed a nerve calmer. You're looking good. I understand you are fully recovered from the concussion. The rod and reel are a gift from me. They were wrapped but your guys thought it might be a weapon, so they unwrapped it. Those two are quite the characters out there." I reached into my purse and pulled out the Get Well card with the hope that the, please forgive gift card to Sports Emporium would ease any discomfort I cost him. "Here, this goes with it. Please spend all of it. It will make me feel better."
He took the card out of my hand and smiled while he set the card off onto his tray table next to the basket. "You didn't have to get me a gift. It was an accident. Besides..." He waved at me to come close and then whispered into my ear. "I asked for early retirement last year, and they turned me down. This just pushed it up a bit. Most of the motley crew we've got around here wasn't ready to replace me, so I've got a guy coming in that I think will be perfect."
I stepped back and smiled awkwardly, wondering if the new guy would be as nice as old Sheriff Cleat was every time something happened to me.
"Oh don't look so stress. He's a good one. I think he'll be able to handle anything you toss his way." Then he broke out in serious laughter at the connotation of throwing, as in me throwing my cigarette down a pipe that landed on a coal dust pile. Thank God, that mine was pretty well scraped or mined - whatever they call it - of all the coal and just the coal dust created such an explosion.
I fidgeted with my purse that had a string hanging loose on the bottom of it. "So. What can you tell me about this new sheriff?"
A hardy laughter filled the hospital room, and the two deputies snuck their heads back in. I turned my head and glared at them. These particular two never took it easy on me when they had a call that pertained to me. Sheriff Cleat, he always handled me with kid gloves.
"Oh Kia." He did a get out hand motion to the deputies and motioned for me to close the door. "Come sit for a second, and then I need to rest as they just gave me pain meds right before you got here."
I pulled the chair up close to his bed and sat leaning forward to listen to him.
"I know your heart is always in the right place, but sometimes you just jump right in with both feet and don't take that second that is needed to look around at your surroundings."
I couldn't deny that. That was me, every time I got into trouble. Every time I would ask myself why I did not just try to take that extra second and think it through. I watched him yawn and fight closing his eyes. I reached out and patted his hand. "Why don't you rest. I'm sure I'll meet the new sheriff soon enough." Mentally, I had hoped not, but I knew that it would just be a matter of time.
A soft laughter escaped his lips as he was fighting the pain meds and how tired they were making him. "I hope not, but when you do, go easy on him Kia. He's a good man. A bit hard headed but I'm sure you two will get along great. Eventually."
That last word had me a bit worried. How tough was this new sheriff? How bad could he be? Would he slam the book at me or have the ability to overlook the chaos I cause, for the fact that it usually came with me only trying to do good somehow?
I pushed the chair back to where it was and slung my purse over my shoulder. By the time I turned to look at old Sheriff Cleat, he was out cold snoring lightly. I stood there for a minute looking at the man who spent a lifetime either rescuing me, scolding me, f
ixing the paperwork so I didn't get arrested or just driving me around in the back of his police cruiser explaining to me how I might have wanted to handle that particular situation differently. My memories with him started at three, and now I felt a bit sad that this was where our memories would end. I could only hope that the new sheriff wasn't going to be hard to break in.
With all this new information whirling through my mind, I set off from the hospital with a fresh determination. One, I was no longer going to go looking for trouble. Two, I was going to make it damn hard for trouble to find me. My new motto was look the other way, ignore it, and it will go away and run fast in the other direction if trouble starts coming. It wasn't the way I was raised, but it was the new way for me. I was tired of being everybody's butt end of their jokes and tired of trying to do the right thing only to find myself in more of a pickle than I was before trouble found me.
The long and winding road from the back ridge of the mountain range had my head clearing and my heart ready to start anew. If this plan of mine didn't work, then I was bound and determined to move somewhere, anywhere, to get a fresh start. Preferably somewhere, where no one knew me, not a single soul, or knew of me, or about me. I had already passed a stray dog on the side of the road and kept on driving. Although it killed me not to stop, I reminisced about the last time I stopped to help a stray dog find its owner. I never did replace that couch.
I passed an old truck with its hood up and some man leaning in over the engine. I mentally patted myself on my back. I did not stop. The last time I stopped, some crazy man abducted me and held me at a an old abandoned cafe back on route 119 until he keeled over from a heart attack while telling me about the alien abduction that was going to happen. That fiasco lasted for almost three months of conversation around town. Thank God for Deputy Dan's cross-dressing habits getting caught and aired on Utube. That was the only thing that could surpass my incident.