The Way We Are

by Shelly Desjarlais

  “I am so sorry! I didn’t know that you were behind me,” Hazel exclaimed.

  Carolyn pulled an old rag from her pocket and brushed most of the dirt from her cheeks. “It’s all right. You’re doing real great. For a Northerner.”

  “Is that so? Here I thought I was doing terribly. It’s not exactly becoming to throw soil into someone’s eyes. Oh, no, I got it in your hair too. Hold still. I’ll get it.”

  Hazel gingerly brushed chunks of dirt from Carolyn’s hair. She used her thumb to wipe away a smudge on Carolyn’s temple. Hazel was far too close to Carolyn. Carolyn had ideas of leaning forward for a brisk kiss. Hazel had the same ideas. It would only take a nudge.

  Seven

  Carolyn took a conscious step backwards, and Hazel’s arms fell to her side. Uncomfortably, Carolyn rubbed the back of her neck and stared at her boots. Discomfort surrounded them like the Nebraska heat. Hazel wanted to say something, but she couldn’t think of anything. It was up to Carolyn.

  “It’s about time for lunch,” Carolyn stated.

  “That’d be nice,” Hazel responded.

  By the time that they reached the house, any sense of uneasiness had faded. Hazel whistled an upbeat song while they made the walk, though she could barely whistle at all. The attempt left Carolyn giggling with every step. Hazel did all that she could to keep Carolyn laughing.

  “I don’t eat a fancy lunch, but I could make something for you,” Carolyn offered.

  Hazel joined her in the kitchen. “Whatever you eat is good enough for me.”

  “All right. Don’t be surprised when it’s not that good.”

  She whipped up two peanut butter sandwiches, several hardboiled eggs, and fruit. It certainly wasn’t grand. Yet, it was more about the company than the food. Carolyn felt the same way. She cast a single glance at the dining table. It brought the image of Thompson to her mind. They were not about to sit there.

  “Come on. I’ll show you the best seat on the farm,” Carolyn said.

  Lunch in hand, they returned to the fields. Carolyn led Hazel to the wooden fence that surrounded her smaller field. Carolyn balanced on the edge of the fence, and Hazel did her best to balance on the narrow edge with her. For a moment, they ate without speaking.

  “So, what makes this the best spot on the farm?” Hazel asked.

  “Look straight out ahead. What do you see?”

  Hazel stared for quite awhile. “Nothing. Just fields.”

  “That’s right. Nothing. It goes on and on and on. First thing in the morning, when sun comes up, it’s like staring at a big lake. The light makes the ground reflect the sky like water does. And, when the sun goes down, it looks like a lake of fire. Warm and glowing orange. I like thinking that somebody could run across that lake and keep running into forever. What do you see now?”

  “Something beautiful,” Hazel murmured.

  “Yeah. This place can be. You have to forget your life for a little while is all.”

  Sadness crept into Carolyn’s tone. Hazel boldly slid her hand across the fence to rest on Carolyn’s knuckles. Carolyn allowed it for a transient moment. Nothing more.

  Promptly, Carolyn leapt to the ground and shoved the last of her lunch into her mouth. Solemnly, Hazel leapt to the ground as well. She hoped that she hadn’t crossed a line. Carolyn pretended it simply hadn’t happened. That didn’t keep her from anxiously lighting a cigarette.

  “Want one?” Carolyn offered.

  “Please,” Hazel accepted. She readily took a deep drag. “It’s been so long since I’ve had one of these. My mother won’t keep them around the house since my father fell ill. I wasn’t sure if you had any around here either. I didn’t see them in Elmer’s store.”

  “They go quick. Everybody’s got matches in their pockets in this town,” she spoke through smoke. She noted the position of the sun. Time was not on their side. “We’ve got a lot to do today. You get to meet the chickens. We have to clean the coop. We got to clean the horse’s barn too. You’ll be glad you got out of that dress by the time we’re done. The mess is something else.”

  “Oh, that sounds spectacular,” Hazel sarcastically replied.

  Soon, they set about the rest of their day. Carolyn wasn’t joking about the mess. Hazel was covered head to toe in dirt, mud, and other unpleasant things. She did not like the chickens, which Carolyn found amusing. There was something about watching Hazel be chased by a hen. It was too hilarious for words. Even Hazel found it funny.

  Carolyn had to rush things along in order to stay on schedule. She hated to rush Hazel, but she still had housework and dinner to worry about. At Carolyn’s urging, Hazel changed clothes and got into the truck faster than she thought possible. Hazel didn’t understand the hurry. She felt as though Carolyn had become tired of her.

  “Here you are,” Carolyn said when they rolled up to Hazel’s house.

  “Yeah. Thank you for today. Am I welcome back next Thursday?” Hazel asked.

  Carolyn wasn’t sure why Hazel sounded so insecure. “Yeah. Unless you don’t want to come back.”

  “You must be joking. I’d love to.”

  “All right. Until next week?”

  “Until then,” Hazel widely grinned. She stepped out of the truck with a wave. “Goodnight, Carolyn.”

  “Goodnight, Hazel.”

  Hazel scaled her front porch as Carolyn drove away. She didn’t go inside until Carolyn’s truck was out of sight. She noticed that Carolyn was driving faster than just about any car that she had ever seen in Boston. Once more, she questioned why Carolyn was always running.

  At home, Carolyn could hardly breathe. She juggled cleaning the house, cooking dinner, and doing laundry at the same time. Thompson’s truck appeared outside of the house right when she hung their wedding picture back on the wall. She always thought that it looked far better tucked in a drawer.

  Upon entering the house, Thompson’s mustache twitched. He sniffed the air. “Meatloaf?”

  “Yes,” Carolyn automatically winced before she spoke.

  “Good. Potatoes? Vegetables?”

  “Yes. I saved a few slices of pie from yesterday too,” she added.

  He looked over the dinner table. Although he rarely smiled, he would nod with approval. He nodded and reached to Carolyn’s neck. She always expected the worst, but occasionally he didn’t feel like hurting her. Instead, he pulled her in for a kiss, one that she forced herself to reciprocate.

  “Now, you tell your husband that you love him like a good girl,” he said.

  It was the biggest lie that she could ever tell. “I love you, Thompson.”

  “Good. I love you too,” he said. That was the one phrase that she could never believe. “I think that it’s been too long since we showed that…don’t you?”

  She cringed. Whenever they went to bed, she clung to the sheets and imagined that she was somewhere else. Thankfully, she had the consolation that she was incapable of bearing children. She couldn’t stomach the idea of raising a child with Thompson. He never wanted kids either. He wanted Carolyn to himself.

  That night, he wanted her in the worst way. She wanted to tell him that she wouldn’t touch him, but he hit her with a chair when she refused to go to bed last time. It was likely to be the table next, if she tried to refuse again. So, she wouldn’t.

  *-*-*-*

  In the morning, Carolyn stood by the field. She woke up in the middle of the night beside her husband. There was no way she could go back to sleep. Her chores were finished earlier than ever before. She wanted to ensure she could be by the field at sunrise. There, she could forget what happened the night before and how disgusting it made her feel.

  It wasn’t only because of who her husband was. It was what her husband was. She once knew a girl, one with freckles and pretty eyes. Despite being so young, Carolyn understood how she felt. She knew why she wanted to pretend to be the husband each time the girls played together. She knew why it hurt to hear that the other girl was sweet on a boy. And, she knew
why her heart shattered when that girl with freckles left town.

  Those feelings were wrong, she was told. That was why her entire family died so young, and that was why she found herself in a nightmare marriage. She had to be punished for what she was. There could be no other explanation. She was a sinner. Wrong. Sinner. Wrong. Women like her were only fit for Hell. They deserved to hurt. Or, so everyone said. She believed them.

  Usually, riding the horse just after sunrise calmed her. The ride didn’t do much for her that morning. She found herself sitting on the fence with a cigarette in one hand and her secret flask of whiskey in the other. The horse stayed beside her, but even he could feel her sadness. She had almost forgotten just how much she loved women and how much she hated her husband. Almost.

  Down the road, Hazel rose from her bed. She started the coffee and yawned into her hand. The day on Carolyn’s farm wore her out more than she’d anticipated. She glanced through the kitchen window to find the sun beginning to rise. Intrigued, she stepped through the backdoor to gaze at the shimmering sky.

  You have to forget your life for a little while is all, Carolyn had said. Hazel did her best to forget about Eugene. She forgot that her father was ill. She forgot that she was responsible for her entire family. She reached for the beauty of nature, for the field that glittered like a lake, for the farmer who told her that Debarr could be beautiful. Then, life didn’t seem so bad.

  Eventually, Hazel went back into the house. She sat down at an antique desk to write her sister for the first time since she’d moved. So far, Hazel didn’t have much to say about Nebraska. There was a broken car, a general store run by a man with an eccentric mustache, an old farm that was supposed to be her new life, and an endless collection of flat fields. However, there was one wonderful thing that happened. She’d met Carolyn.

  Hazel was at a loss for words when it came to Carolyn. She knew what she should say. Carolyn was a stranger that helped her, a woman who was teaching her about farming, and a kind person who could be a friend. Rather, she seemed to already be one. Still, that didn’t feel right. There was more to it. She started to understand why.

  Eugene wasn’t attractive to her, even when he treated her well. Unlike her friends, she never had feelings for a boy. She figured that she simply wasn’t interested in dating, or that there were no boys worth her time.

  Yet, there was somebody who held her attention: A neighbor. This neighbor was a sweet and good-looking woman some twenty years older than Hazel. She thought about that neighbor more often than not. She only stopped because the neighbor left and Eugene arrived.

  “Women,” Hazel suddenly thought. She was attracted to women. It wasn’t a surprising thought, curiously. It was something that she already knew. Unlike Carolyn, she didn’t feel disgusting or wrong. She felt no different than when she tried to believe she wanted men. Before she could stop herself, her pen slid across the page.

  Sally, I met someone.

  Eight

  Hazel decided to take the letter to Elmer’s store. It was a long walk for her, but she had nothing else to do. By the time she reached the store, she was dripping with sweat and aching all over. Elmer wanted to laugh at the sight of the young Northerner. She reminded him of a kitten that had gotten caught in a bucket of water.

  “Don’t tell me that you walked here,” Elmer said.

  “I did. Carolyn and I have to get the parts for my car before it can be fixed, you know,” Hazel reminded him.

  “Oh, I know. How can I help you today, Ms. Mayer?”

  She was thrilled he remembered that she wasn’t married just yet. “Given that you own the only telephone in town, I figured you must send the mail through your store as well. I hope my assumption is correct.”

  “It is. Postman comes around every week. Let me see that letter, young lady,” Elmer told her. She gave it to him and he hummed as he stroked his chin. “Boston, eh? That’ll take awhile. But it’ll get there.”

  “I’d hope so,” Hazel chuckled.

  Elmer turned around to place the letter in the mailbox. As he did, the door opened. A young man named Ronald Richardson sauntered inside with a confident stride. Arguably, he had the largest ego and strongest libido in town. It took him three seconds to notice Hazel. It took Hazel four seconds to realize he was staring at her. He lit a cigarette with a deep leer. She wasn’t happy when he walked towards her.

  “Hi there,” he began.

  She had trouble understanding the simple greeting. His country accent was thicker than Carolyn’s, and his tongue seemed lazy. He was over six feet tall, bulky, and had unsettling eyes. They were dark and swirling with lecherous intent. Usually, that sort of man would evoke some sort of reaction from a woman. However, Hazel was not usual.

  “Hello,” her voice evenly replied.

  “I’m Ronald Richardson. People call me Ronnie. What’s your name, sweet pea?”

  “It surely isn’t sweet pea, so please don’t call me that.”

  He whistled sharply. “We’ve got us a fiery one. I like that. What’s your name?”

  “Hazel.”

  “Hey, Hazel. You have to be the new girl in town. Welcome to Debarr. We can be real friendly here. I’m real friendly myself. Anybody give you a tour yet? It’s a little town, but worth seeing. I’ve got room in my truck, if you want go for a ride,” Ronnie winked.

  She remained stoic. “As kind as that is, I shouldn’t ride around with a strange man I’ve just met. I happen to be promised to someone.”

  “Oh. Is your man in town with you?” Ronnie asked.

  “He’s in the war,” Hazel answered. She knew what was coming.

  Ronnie began to smile. “So, you’re all alone here?”

  “I’m doing very well on my own, actually,” Hazel swiftly replied.

  Elmer chose that moment to interrupt. “Oh, hello, Ronnie. What can I do for you?”

  “I was going to ask if you’ve seen Rodger. He’s gone missing. Pa is ready to tan his hide if he don’t come back right quick.”

  “He didn’t tell you? I sent him to the train station to pick up my new inventory,” Elmer explained.

  Ronnie scratched his smooth jaw as he turned pink. “Oh. He did tell me that.”

  “I’m sure he did. He’s a good kid. Do you mind giving us some room? I need to have Hazel sign a slip for me and you’re blocking the counter,” Elmer said.

  “All right,” Ronnie stepped towards the door. “I’ll see you. You too, Hazel.”

  “Don’t feel obligated,” Hazel told him.

  He wasn’t sure what that meant. Elmer barely swallowed his chuckles. He waited until Ronnie was gone to speak.

  “I’m sorry about him. You best keep your distance from the Richardsons.”

  “Including Rodger?” Hazel wondered.

  “Oh no. Rodger is the good one. God only knows how he turned out like he has. It’s the older brothers. Richard, Randy, and Ronald. They think they can do what they want ‘cause they own half the farms in town. Ronnie is the worst of them all, so try not to get him too upset.”

  “What could he possibly do to me?” Hazel scoffed.

  “This town isn’t like Boston, Hazel. They have their own laws around here. The slip,” Elmer pushed a small piece of paper and a pen towards her. “Fill it out and give it right back to me. It’s just to remind you and me when I put that envelope in the box.”

  Hazel began to sign on the line when an idea came to mind. “Elmer, do you know everything that goes on in this town?”

  “Just about. Why? You want some gossip?”

  “Not gossip. Just curious about Mr. Thompson Jennings. Carolyn’s husband.”

  Elmer scowled. “Thompson Jennings? What about him?”

  “Well, Carolyn has helped me a great deal, and I wanted to let him know that I appreciate it very much,” Hazel smoothly lied. She never liked to fib, but occasionally it seemed like a good idea. It felt like a good idea then, and rightfully so.

  “He’s not home much. Works in t
he factories. That’s about all I can say,” Elmer responded.

  It was the first time she had seen Elmer look uncomfortable. She pressed. “You said you know every face from here to Colorado, so you have to know more than that.”

  “He keeps to himself like she does. They’ve had that farm together for twenty years, ever since they’ve been married. No children.”

  “That’s all?” Hazel pressed skeptically.

  “Yeah. You said you wanted to tell him something about Carolyn helping you?” he asked.

  “That? Oh, never mind. Thank you for helping me with my letter, Elmer. Here’s your slip back.”

  “Thank you, Ms. Mayer. Do you need me to drive you home? I could.”

  “Thank you for the offer. I’d rather walk. I need to pass the time somehow,” Hazel sighed.

  Hazel left for the long walk home. She found that she was walking slower on the way back, which was to be expected. Somewhere around the two-mile mark, she heard a truck. The engine quieted as it neared her. To her pleasant surprise, it was Rodger.

  “Hello, ma’am. Would you like to get in? I’m heading towards your farm.”

  “All right,” she said as her body finally surrendered. Once she was inside, she passed on the news in case Elmer hadn’t. “You might want to drop me off quickly, Rodger. Your father was looking for you.”

  “Yeah, Mr. Elmer told me. Thank you for telling me too. I’d guess that Mrs. Jennings hasn’t fixed your car yet? Or do you just like walking?”

  “No, it’s not fixed yet,” Hazel confirmed.

  “That’s a pain. Don’t you worry. Mrs. Jennings will fix it right up. She’s always true to her word, that Mrs. Jennings. Nicest person on my route,” Rodger told her.

  She smiled. “Yes, she’s a lovely woman.”

  “It’s too bad she doesn’t come into town more. We do get to see her at church, but that’s about it.”