by Carl Hamlin
After getting out of the car, she strode around to where the grand old barn stood in noble fashion, decked out in fresh red paint and bright white trim. It even sported a new weathervane, complete with a rooster at the crest.
Jessica placed her hands on her hips, stretched to relieve her stiffness from the long drive, and walked into the barn where she had often played as a child. There was no livestock there. Ever since her father had purchased the farm, it had been dedicated to raising wheat, corn, oats and beans. Listening to the complaints of some of her classmates, Jessica had felt fortunate that she did not have to take part in milking cows and feeding assorted livestock.
The scent of freshly baled hay filled the barn, and she inhaled deeply in appreciation. She could remember straining for all the power her 5’7” body could muster to stack those heavy, compressed bales more than two high.
The barn was where she cuddled her kittens, later her Collie pup Lance, and where she first found herself on the receiving end of a surprise kiss. That latter incident took place when she was thirteen, when Mark Walters had come across the road to begin his long quest for the heart of the young beauty. In fact, that barn had only one negative memory attached to it: it sometimes harbored bats. Jessica hated bats more than she despised Mark Walters. Mice did not cause her heart to race, and to her a rat was just a larger version of a mouse. However, if she had any reason to believe she was in the company of a bat, she would freeze in fear, and all around her knew it. Through her school years, she was teased with practical jokes revolving around the creatures, and Mark Walters had once appeared at the door in a Batman costume.
Smiling at the fact that the barn still looked the same, if not better than the last viewing, she walked outside and gazed at the grain storage silos and the building where tractors and some of the other large machines were stored. Everything about the grounds seemed in order. She knew it would be, and she had received all the financial and crop production reports she needed from Stanley by e-mail. She just wanted to be there, around the good people who knew what really mattered in life, who drove the big green tractors with the yellow wheels. This was the place where her heart always would be, and if she could only be there for a few days a year, she would take that.
Finally inside the house, Jessica knew that everything would be as she left it a year ago, but still found the sameness a tad eerie. The old friend who owned the grocery store also had arranged to have her daughter come in and clean the year’s worth of dust that had made its way into the closed-up home. Even a locked house could not withstand the dust carried in the air in the farming regions, so Jessica had sent the woman a check in advance. She also kept the power turned on all year to prevent the pipes from freezing in winter. The only other business was to have the well water checked each year.
She opened the old refrigerator, and it appeared that all she had requested was in place, especially the six-pack of Budweiser she had enjoyed since her young adulthood, and on occasion, before she was of legal drinking age. The non-perishables were arranged on the counter where she could easily verify what had been delivered.
Jessica had eaten her evening meal while driving. From memory, she knew where the last fast-food drive-through window was before the final stretch of highway leading to Wilder.
She knew she would arrive in town too late to be served at the single traditional restaurant and the small café. Now she was content to enjoy a can of the beer, so she began to sip on one while she carried her suitcase to her old bedroom upstairs. She always traveled light when she came to her home place, and there was a washing machine and dryer waiting for her. In Wilder, she typically wore the casual clothes she was largely denied while in the spotlight of her job and the seemingly endless social and charity events that came with it.
After placing the suitcase on her bed, she took a couple of steps to look out the window. From the second floor, she had a clear view of the Walters property. There was the airstrip in the field behind the house, the same one that Mark’s father had used for recreational flying before teaching his son to fly. Jessica was surprised that it appeared to have been repaired. During the previous year’s trip, she had observed that the surface was cracking and that weeds were sticking up through the surface.
She could also see the familiar rounded Quonset building that the Walters men had used as a hangar and storage building. It had received a new coat of silver paint, and the grass was trimmed around it. Jessica wondered if the airstrip was in use by some new occupants. During her last visit, she learned that the people who had purchased the Walters property were in the process of putting it up for sale.
Assuming no visitors for the evening, Jessica undressed and put on one of her nightshirts, in spite of the early hour. She put the rest of her meager wardrobe in the old dresser, and took a romance novel downstairs.
There was no television or Internet, but the old console record player had a radio built in. She chose to not even begin playing with her high-tech phone. To do so would not nurture the sense of escape she always sought during her visit there. She was content with the country music station that always came in more clear and rich than any others did.
She stretched out on the decades-old but spacious sofa and leaned back against a large pillow that sported an embroidered picture of a deer. The sun was still high, and the sunlight coming into the room was sufficient light for reading.
She began reading, amused at herself for enjoying such stories. She sought out books telling tales of romantic dilemmas on America’s frontier. It was not at all lost on her that this part of Indiana was itself the frontier just a few generations ago.
Such novels took her away from her life of living in a high-rise Chicago condominium overlooking Lake Michigan. The view of the lake and all the boats was appealing, but she lived high above it all, and felt removed from normal life.
She was able to park her Lincoln in the underground parking, but she so hated the traffic that she always took a cab to the station, to parties and the obligatory public appearances.
Jessica was hardly deprived of human contact or friendships. The career climb that began with a job as a newspaper reporter in Indianapolis had pressed her into the sea of humanity that is a large city. She enjoyed her coworkers, even those who saw her as a competitor. The movers and shakers she interviewed and drank cocktails with were also typically pleasant. The problem was that few of her relationships were established on her own terms.
She seldom dated, and had experienced a couple of long-term relationships, although she had never married or moved in with a man. For Jessica, sex was hardly an ongoing part of life, but it had been quite appreciated during those two flings, both of which had wound down through her own choice. As she began reading the story of a woman seeking love at the edge of the wilderness, she realized that it had been some time now, and for the first time in quite a while she was feeling somewhat randy.
She read until she began to doze off, no doubt affected by the beer. She climbed the stairs, pulled back the familiar quilt and quickly fell asleep.
Jessica slept in as she often did on Saturday mornings. She was still tired from many hours of driving. Knowing that her diet was soon to deteriorate for the days to come, she ate yogurt and toast for breakfast, then walked to the store to catch up on community news with Helen.
The plump red-haired woman was eight years older than Jessica, and the two had made it a point to talk to each other on the phone or e-mail each other several times a year. Jessica cherished the memories of how her babysitter had patiently played board games and checkers with her when her parents were visiting with neighbors or attending Grange and Farm Bureau meetings. They shared snacks of popcorn, pork rinds and cola. Jessica still loved the junk food, but she no longer lived a life of strenuous physical activity, such as she did in her youth filled with farm work and competing on the high school track team.
Even after Jessica no longer needed a babysitter, the two visited and enjoyed each other’s compan
y. Helen assumed the role of an older sibling to the young Jessica and the Marins all considered her a part of the family.
Jessica entered the store and shuffled around the few aisles while Helen waited on a customer. The woman buying groceries looked vaguely familiar, but the name would not come to mind, and that was a reminder to her that time away takes a toll.
The customer gone, Helen unfolded a pair of chairs and placed them behind the checkout counter. She placed her hand on Jessica’s knee and grinned. “I always look forward to your visits. I try to never miss your program.” Helen pointed to the small television mounted on the wall.
Jessica smiled. “I suppose if my ratings percentage in Chicago was as high as it is in Wilder, I could demand a raise.”
Helen chuckled. “I looked out and saw that big car you drove here. I think you’re doing all right.”
Jessica nodded. “I suppose so. It’s more money than I ever dreamed of when I was working at the box factory.”
“I suppose you enjoy those people you meet. I saw your interview with that baseball player last week and that Senator the next day.”
Jessica laughed. “He was an evasive weasel, wasn’t he?”
Helen nodded. “But you made his squirm. I would have loved to be in your place that morning. You just nailed him in a bold-faced lie.”
Jessica smiled. “It can be a rush, I’ll admit.”
“Hmmm. I read that magazine article about you, about how tough you can be. It seems like you must be another person when you’re on the job there.”
Jessica let out a deep breath. “I learned to be tough when I became a reporter. I have to be able to turn it on as needed. I just hope I never become a full-time bitch. But as time goes on, I see myself getting more full of myself. Sort of cocky and arrogant. More and more, I have to watch my sharp tongue around my co-workers. I don’t want to drift over to being that kind of a person. I need to be proud of myself, but sometimes I see myself feeling superior. That’s not good, and that’s part of why I need to keep coming home. Here in Wilder, I’m just a farm girl. But I am aware, my ego seems at times to get too big for my own good.”
Helen arched her eyebrows. “If I see you getting too big for your britches, I’ll let you know.”
Jessica gave her a hug. “Helen, you sound just like Mom. And that’s fine with me.”
“Is the farm okay?”
“No problem there. Stanley does a great job. I suppose I’ll drop in on him today. And your niece Carol did a fine job of cleaning.”
Helen sighed, and then flashed a teasing grin. “Being back makes you want to come home to stay?”
Jessica tilted her head as she pondered the question. “I do keep coming home, don’t I? I know that deep inside the farm is my security blanket. If I ever want to walk away from the big city and the news business, I have a place to live that I love. I could live here on my savings along with the rental income from the farm. It’s all here if I need it, but I do wonder if I could adjust to Wilder again on a permanent basis. I just hope that Stanley and the guys keep having those good crop yields.”
Helen nodded. “Stanley told me that with having Mark back in town and dusting the crops, he expects to do even better.”
Chapter Two
Jessica sat in silence for a moment. “Mark is back here?”
“For three months now. You didn’t hear?”
Jessica took a deep breath. “No. He’s not a cop up north anymore?”
“He had more than enough years in. The Barretts are renting the Walters place back to him, so he’s also once again in his boyhood place. They sold off the farmland, and Mark has use of the old house and the airstrip. He never gave up flying, and now he’s doing crop-dusting. Doing quite well at it. He loves any excuse to fly a plane, let alone make extra money doing it.”
“So while I’m here, he’s just across the road.”
Helen shook her head slowly. “Jess, just be nice to him if you can’t avoid him. His parents have passed on, too. And he has a slight limp from when he got hurt in a high-speed chase after a robbery. His partner was driving, and he was hurt very badly. He’s in a wheelchair now. That was just last year. He’s Mark’s best friend. Life hasn’t been easy for him lately. No need to open up any old hard feelings.”
Jessica leaned her head back and closed her eyes. “It’s been a long time, but he embarrassed me so badly that night.”
Helen sighed. “Jess, that prom was what? It would be thirty-two years ago.”
“Helen, he left me at the prom. I had to call home to get a ride from the school.”
“The story is that you sneaked off with another boy during the dance and Mark’s friends saw you getting out of that guy’s car.”
Jessica’s face turned pink and she smiled meekly. “It was just for a few minutes. You see, I liked that other boy, and Mark asked me to the prom when no one else had, and I just sort of lost track of everything. But he shouldn’t have left me there.”
“He feels like you used him to avoid being embarrassed by not having a date. But for him, it was a dream come true.”
Jessica looked down. “I can understand someone seeing it that way. That wasn’t my intention.”
Helen chuckled. “And you’ve clashed with him ever since then, right?”
Jessica lowered her head and nodded. “Two stubborn people, both unwilling to apologize to the other. That was Mark and I.”
Helen began to giggle. “And he’s still smitten with you. It may have been a long time ago, but he also has vivid memories of that night. He mentioned it the other day when I told him you were coming for your yearly visit.”
Jessica shook her head. “I know I shouldn’t have done that at the prom. But he shouldn’t have left me stranded there without a ride home.”
Helen placed her hand on her friend’s shoulder. “I think you started it.”
Jessica sighed and shook her head. “I suppose I needed better impulse control that night.”
Helen began to laugh. “I think you were lucky that night that Mark controlled his own impulses.”
“What do you mean.”?
Helen giggled again. “He told me the other day he still regrets not doing what he thought was called for that night.”
Jessica laughed. “And just what was that?”
Helen leaned close. “He told me that he still regrets that he didn’t pull you into one of the classrooms and take you over his knees and give you a good spanking.”
Jessica’s face drained. “He said that?”
Helen nodded. “From his tone of voice I could tell he meant it, too.”
Jessica’s face went from pale to dark pink. “Oh, my.” She attempted to laugh. “I suppose I was lucky, wasn’t I? I imagine he could have done a good job of it.”
Helen laughed, too. “I guess you were lucky. I doubt you could have squirmed away from him. He was quite a muscular and athletic boy. Of course, I must say, that hasn’t changed.”
Jessica laughed. “I used to arm wrestle him. He would use his left arm, but he always put me down in a couple of seconds. He was always lifting weights in their basement. That is, when he wasn’t trying to put the moves on me.”
Helen cleared her voice. “And the only date you ever had with him was to that infamous prom?”
Jessica nodded. “He would ask me out, but I just never had those romantic feelings toward him. We hung out a lot, ran around with our friends, that was all.”
“In your mind, that was all.”
Jessica felt a sudden sensation of her veins turning cold. She rose slowly and gave her friend a hug. “I’ll try to stop in again before I go back home. I mean to Chicago.”
Just as she was to the door, Helen called out to her. “Jess, could you manage to come to the community festival?”
Jessica turned and thought for a moment. “Certainly I will. See you later.”
Jessica walked back to the house, all the while keeping a wary eye on the house on the opposite side of the road.
She saw that a JEEP Cherokee was parked there. She scurried on into the house, retrieved her car keys and drove to the home of Stanley Fenton, just a mile from her own house.
Stanley’s wife Mollie was the only person at home, but she kept the records, so that was fine. In addition, Mollie and Jessica were also classmates in school, and the two had spent considerable time together on weekends and during the summer breaks. After a cursory review of the records, the women began to reminisce about old friends and old times.
Mollie suddenly halted in mid-sentence. “I hope you don’t mind that we contracted with Mark to do some dusting fly-overs for us. I mean it is your land and I know about oh, gosh, you know.”
Jessica could not help but chuckle. “No, it’s fine. Mark’s okay, we just oh, well. That was a long time ago.”
Mollie shook her head. “He still talks about you. I think you probably already know that.”
Jessica seemed stunned. “I wonder just who all he talks to about me. I mean, come on. We had that one date for prom.”
Mollie waved away Jessica’s attempt to minimize the event. “Yes, one date. One date that got talked about all over the school. To say nothing of the hissing comments you two exchanged whenever you crossed paths after that.”
Jessica arched her eyebrows. “Hissing?”
Mollie sat back and surveyed her friend’s blushing face. “Did you ever again speak a word to him when your teeth were not clenched in anger?”
“He embarrassed me! He left me there!”
Mollie spoke softly. “And you humiliated him. The other boys tortured him over it. He took the best looking girl to the prom, one he had had a crush on for years, and she ends up out in the parking lot snuggling with someone else. I love you like a sister, Jess. But you were cruel to him that night. And still, he never tried to take you down for it. He never talked about it to others, and he never said a negative word to others about you.”
Jessica nodded. “I guess not.” But he wanted to spank her fanny for what she did.
Mollie sighed. “I suppose you can manage to not encounter him in the days you’re here.”