After the boys left, I said, “I don’t like them—they’re being too friendly. And they know we’re hiding something now. They could steal the truck.”
“If they wanted to steal it, they didn’t have to pick us up. Better that they know we want it quiet than them yakking to everyone about us.”
“They still might,” Courtney said.
“I don’t think so,” Dani said. “I get the feeling maybe they shouldn’t be helping us out so much. Serves them to stay quiet too.”
I watched the boys’ truck driving over the field, then turning onto the road, a dust cloud following them. I looked around the campsite.
“It’s sure quiet here. You can’t see any houses or anything.”
“That’s good,” Dani said, unrolling the tent. “We don’t want anyone knowing we’re here.”
I looked back at where the truck had gone, nothing but dust now.
“I guess.”
* * *
We spent the afternoon setting up our tent and exploring the creek. We found a couple of pools where it was a little deeper and took baths, rinsing our hair, trying to get the dust out of our skin and from under our nails, but as soon as we’d dried off it felt like we were coated again. That night we were restless, rolling into each other for warmth, the ground uncomfortable. Courtney and I whispered to each other, worried about the truck and the boys. Dani finally told us to shut up.
The boys came to get us early the next morning. We piled into the back of their truck, and they took us up to the ranch. It was pretty, with a brightly painted sign that read LUXTON CATTLE RANCH at the entrance, white fences and flowers lining the driveway, a white Victorian farmhouse that looked like something out of a movie, with a wraparound veranda, a porch swing, and a couple of maple trees. I almost expected a woman to walk out in a pretty country dress and offer iced tea.
I aimed my camera, took a few pretend shots. I caught Brian watching me in his side mirror and put the camera down.
The cattle were out on summer pasture but the ranch had a lot of horses and a couple of barns, a big chicken run. We didn’t meet their parents, just a ranch hand named Theo who had a perpetual squint like he was always looking into the sun. He showed us around and explained that we had to walk the fence line to check for any breaks, and for posts that were leaning from the winter snow or from cows pressing their bodies into the fence, trying to escape. We drove two ATVs, pulling a trailer with the rolled-up barbed wire and fence poles behind us. It was hard work, digging in the dry rocky ground, pounding the posts down, our clothes and sometimes our skin snagging on the barbed wire, the sun burning the backs of our necks. We wore gloves, but our hands ached from handling the shovel and the thick wire, the cutting tools. The strap of my camera dug in, the camera heavier with every mile, but I wasn’t going to leave it in my packsack.
We turned our baseball caps around, slathered ourselves with suntan lotion, and used up all our water, but it felt good to be making some money. The guys came by once, driving another ATV.
“I couldn’t find a pump at the wrecking yard,” Brian said. “Had to order one in, might take a couple of days. It’ll take me a while to get it on your truck, need half a day and my uncle has a bunch of other shit lined up first.”
“So when do you think it will be ready?” Dani said.
“Maybe Friday. I’ll try my best,” he said. He seemed sincere and looked like he felt really bad, but as soon as he left, I turned to Dani.
“That’s four days. There’s something about these guys—I don’t trust them. We should keep going, I don’t like it here.”
“Me either, but we need the truck,” she said.
“We should just get on the bus.”
“How are we going to get back into town? It’s miles. We don’t even have enough money for three tickets. We’ve got to work for at least a couple of days.”
“You just don’t want to leave the truck—you’re being stubborn.” I felt trapped, panicked.
“Screw you, Jess. You’re just a kid, you don’t know—”
“But, Dani, this doesn’t feel right.”
“Like you have ESP.”
“No,” I said, frustrated. “It just doesn’t.”
“I feel the same way,” Courtney said.
Dani looked furious. She hated it when we banded against her. She dug up a few more shovelfuls of dirt for a posthole, her biceps bunching and flexing as she pushed the shovel into the hard ground, using her foot to force it deeper. We also went back to work, but we were waiting for her to say something.
“We’ll stay until we have a little more money,” she finally said. “We also need it for ID. It might be even harder to get jobs in Vancouver. We have to earn what we can now. If the truck isn’t fixed by Friday, we’ll try to sell it to the guys.”
I didn’t like it but there was nothing else I could say. Dani had made up her mind.
* * *
After we were done in the fields, we walked the country road back to our campsite, tried to clean our tired aching bodies in the creek. Most of the food in the cooler had already spoiled, so we ate the last of the jerky, some apples, and a sandwich Courtney had found in a lunch box in the barn. We’d filled up our water bottles at the farm but only had enough for the night. An hour later the boys came back to our campsite with some peanut butter sandwiches, granola bars, and fruit.
“Raided our parents’ cupboards,” Gavin said with a laugh.
“We’ll pay you back,” I said. I didn’t want to owe them anything, but we were starving.
“Nah, they’ll never notice anything’s gone.” He patted his stomach. “We eat like horses.”
While we ate, the boys talked. Gavin was nineteen, his brother two years older. They were both still living at home, to help their parents out.
“Not for too much longer, though,” Brian said. “How old are you girls anyway?”
Dani said, “I’m eighteen,” adding a few months. She pointed to us. “They’re seventeen and fifteen.” Courtney wouldn’t be seventeen until February. My birthday was the next day, I remembered with a jolt.
“Brave hitting the road all by yourself,” Gavin said.
“People know where we’re at,” I said. “We’ve got family.”
His eyes flicked to me and he seemed amused, like he knew I was lying, but he just said, “Want to go for a swim?”
They took us to a river a couple of miles down the road where they said all the local kids swam. There was a small sandy beach where teens sunbathed on towels, clustered in little bunches. A few were taking turns on a rope swing, leaping into the water with a splash and a yell. Down the way, on the other side of the river, you could see another beach where some families had towels and umbrellas spread out, toddlers splashing in the shallows, dogs chasing sticks.
We sat a little apart from the other kids, up on a hill. A few of the boys shouted out greetings to the guys as we walked past, but the girls ignored them, whispering to each other, and a couple of them giggled. I glanced at Brian’s face. He looked angry, then smug when some of the girls gave us curious looks.
Brian had brought extra towels and some beer and pot. I took a beer but refused the pot, not liking how it made my head spin.
Courtney took a long toke, her eyes closing as she held the smoke in her lungs, her shoulders finally dropping, relaxed. Dani took the next drag, sucking at it in a quick angry inhale before she passed it to Gavin. He grinned at her.
We spent the afternoon swimming, sloughing the sweat from our skin, rinsing our hair in the water. Across the river some men sat on the hoods of their trucks, staring at Courtney stretched out in her black bikini. I didn’t like the nod Brian gave them—confident, like we were theirs.
The boys kept handing us beers. It felt good, not being so hungry, the water cool and cleansing, the beer making everything fuzzy. Even Dani was relaxing, her voice excited as she talked to Gavin about ranching. She smiled and pushed her long hair off her shoulders, then giggled at so
mething he said. I wanted her to put a T-shirt over her bikini like I had—but then I thought about Corey, how she’d never been with anyone else. Maybe it was good she was showing interest in a new boy.
Even if I didn’t like him or his toothy smile.
It was getting dark and most people had left. A few voices carried across the river, someone taking a swim on the other side, then a truck started up and drove away. Everyone had gone home now. We sat around a small campfire, the smell of river still fresh on our skin, our feet sandy, beer bottles piled behind us. Gavin was trying to get Dani to walk farther down the river.
“Come on, I’ll show you the bridge,” he said. But he was smiling at her in a way that said he wanted something else, and Dani knew it.
“I can’t leave my sisters.”
“They’ll be okay. Right, girls?” I glared at him. He laughed and stumbled off to pee in the woods but not far enough that we couldn’t see him. His white tank top had sweat stains under his armpits, his jeans shorts sagged.
“I want to go back to our camp,” I said.
Dani nodded and started to gather our things. Courtney and I got to our feet, shook out our towels.
“Hold up,” Brian said. “Let’s have another beer.”
Gavin spun back around, doing his shorts up. “What’s going on?”
“We’re going back to the campsite,” Dani said.
“What’s your problem?” He started walking toward her. “I thought we were having a good time.”
“We have to work tomorrow.” Dani sounded friendly, still trying to keep the peace.
“That’s what you’re worried about?” he said. “Shit, we go to work hungover all the time. Nothing to it, just drink lots of water.”
He sat down on the towel, gripped her arm, and pulled her down beside him. This time she got mad, shoved him.
“Hey, asshole, that hurt.”
He shoved her back. “Fuck you.”
“Let go of my sister!” I picked up a bottle, ready to throw it.
“Hey, hey. You girls calm down, now,” Brian said.
Dani had wrenched herself free from Gavin and stood up.
“We’re going back to our camp.” She started walking up the trail, motioning to us to follow.
Courtney and I jogged to catch up, the camera bouncing against my chest, my hand trying to hold it in place.
The boys were trailing a few paces behind, carrying their towels and the cooler.
“Come on, don’t be like this,” Brian said.
“We’ll talk in the morning,” Dani said over her shoulder.
“You better if you want your truck back,” Gavin said, his voice mean.
Courtney looked scared. We both glanced at Dani. I could tell she was scared too, but she also looked pissed off. She wasn’t going to back down now. I figured she was angry that we’d let the guys have this power over us, that she hadn’t listened to me when I wanted to leave hours ago. We walked all the way back to the campsite, the boys following us in their truck, its lights blinding us whenever we looked over our shoulders.
“What are we going to do back at our camp?” I said. “Should we hide?”
Dani said, “Shut up, let me think.”
I could hear the truck behind us, a dark beast nipping at our heels.
“Maybe we should just let them think we aren’t mad, you know? Like everything’s okay?” Dani sounded desperate, like she didn’t know what to do either. Which scared me more than anything.
“They’re idiots,” Courtney said. “They might believe it.”
When we got near our site, Dani spun around and walked to the truck.
“Hey, sorry things got out of control back there,” she said through the window. I couldn’t see into the cab, couldn’t see the boys’ faces.
“We’re just tired,” she said. “Tomorrow after work we’ll go swimming again, okay?”
“Sure thing, babe.” Brian’s voice. “It’s all good, right?” He sounded calm. “We just wanted to make sure you got home okay.”
“Thanks,” Dani said.
The boys backed into the field, turned the truck around, then drove off.
* * *
We zipped up our tent, changed into our sweatpants and sweatshirts. I had a flashlight, but I didn’t like the idea of our bodies being silhouetted. I wrapped a shirt around my camera, shoved it into the bottom of my packsack.
“They’re still mad,” I said.
“I know,” Dani said.
Courtney was fumbling around. I could hear the zipper on her packsack opening.
“What are you doing?” I said.
“Getting my knife.”
“You think they’re coming back?” I hated how scared I sounded.
“No, they’ll calm down. Just get some sleep.”
I climbed into my sleeping bag, heard my sisters settle into theirs. I tried to stay awake, listened to every noise outside, but my eyes kept closing.
CHAPTER SEVEN
I woke, my pulse racing as my eyes searched the dark. Footsteps outside, the rustle of clothes, something brushing against the side of the tent.
Dani whispered, “Shhh,” almost too low to hear.
Beside me Courtney was feeling for her knife.
My hands also groped around under my sleeping bag for my flashlight. I touched the cool metal, wrapped my fingers around it. I strained my ears. It sounded like two sets of footsteps circling the tent. Brian and Gavin. Were they trying to scare us?
I remembered the look on Gavin’s face earlier. The rage. Now there was silence. Where had they gone?
I rolled over slowly, trying not to make any noise, reaching out for Courtney, touching her arm. She grabbed my fingers, gave them a squeeze. Dani slowly moved to a kneeling position. I could see the faint outline of her body.
Someone moved outside again.
“Come out, come out, wherever you are.” Gavin’s voice, low and slurred.
Like this was a game? I gripped my flashlight. If they touched the zipper on the tent, if they moved an inch closer, I was going to smash their hands with it.
“We’re trying to sleep,” Dani said loudly. “We’ll party tomorrow, okay?”
“We want to party now.” Brian’s voice.
Courtney whispered, “Maybe we should have one beer with them, then they’ll leave us alone.”
“I don’t think that will do it,” Dani said.
“Just go away,” I yelled. “You’re assholes!”
Dani jabbed me in the ribs. “Shut up, Jess.”
Outside we could hear the boys moving around like they were setting something up, a couple of thuds, dragging sounds, the hiss of a beer can opening.
“Come on, girls. We just want to say we’re sorry about earlier. We were being jerks. We brought some weed to make it up to you.”
A brief flare of light, then flickering flames. They’d built a fire.
“We have to work in the morning,” Dani said.
“We’re the bosses. You can sleep in.”
“We need the money.”
“If you come out, I’ll put in some extra hours tomorrow night after work—might be able to fix the water pump faster.”
“I don’t trust them,” I whispered.
“None of us do,” Dani whispered back. “But they’re not going away.” She turned toward the front of the tent. “Just one beer, okay?” she called out.
“One beer. That’s all we want.”
“Come on.” Dani unzipped the tent, bent low, and climbed out, her feet bare. Courtney followed. I lingered for a minute, zipping my hoodie up to my throat, hoping to hide that I wasn’t wearing a bra. I debated staying in the tent, but I wanted to be near my sisters. The fire glowed through the side of the tent. I saw a glint of metal next to me. Courtney’s knife. I put the knife in my pocket and climbed out.
“There she is,” Brian said. “Hey, little sister.” He was sitting on an old log. They’d moved a couple around the fire for seats.
; I forced a smile. He patted the log near him, but I moved to the other side of the fire and sat on the log close to Dani.
He grabbed a bottle out of the case, offered it to me. I shook my head.
Courtney took one, leaning across to get it. Brian stared at her waist where her shirt rode up. I wanted to reach out and tug it back down.
He smiled brightly. “See, this is fun, right?”
Courtney and Dani nodded but they were quiet, staring at the fire the boys had built, a rock circle surrounding it, some tree limbs dragged close.
“What’s wrong with you all?” Gavin said. He was sitting on an old stump, poking the fire with a stick.
“We’re just tired,” Courtney said.
Her voice sounded just like it had apologizing to Dad whenever he would drag us out late at night to play card games, our eyes blurring with fatigue, fetching him beers until he finally passed out on the table.
Gavin drained his beer, opened another one.
“Thought we weren’t supposed to have a fire,” I said.
“S’okay. Parents are away for the night. No one will see it out here.”
I caught my breath. No one will see it out here.
No one would see us.
“So you girls have a boyfriend waiting back home?” Gavin said, his mouth moving slowly like he was trying not to slur.
“Yeah,” Dani said. “We all do.”
He looked annoyed. “Where are your parents?”
“Back home,” she answered.
I didn’t like the questions, wondered why they wanted to know.
“Our aunt, she’s waiting for us,” I said.
The boys exchanged a look. “She must be worried, you already being late and all,” Brian said, his voice cold.
“We called her when you guys were buying beer,” I said.
“Oh, yeah. Where’d you call her from?” Brian said, not sounding drunk at all anymore. Had he been faking? I tried to remember if I’d seen a pay phone near that store, but I couldn’t think.
“Don’t worry about it, little sister.” Brian’s smile told me he knew I’d lied. “You’ll be home in no time.”
“No time,” Gavin echoed.
“That’s it for us, boys,” Dani said, draining the last of her beer.
Those Girls Page 6