Gravel Road

by Walls, Stephie

  She shook her head, and more of hair fell from her ponytail. “Uh-huh. I’ve been waiting for you.”

  I’d never noticed a smile before hers. Every time she graced me with it, I couldn’t help but return it with one of my own. Her teeth were perfectly straight and bright white, yet that wasn’t what made it so spectacular. She had high cheekbones, and when she grinned really big, her cheeks pushed against the bottoms of her lashes. It was like her eyes smiled, too. It was uniquely Randi, and so were the sparkles that danced in her irises like ballerinas.

  We took off running, without letting go of each other. I’d catch crap about it from Brock later—or any of the other kids in our class. I didn’t care. They were either jealous or confused. Having Randi Adams’s attention was nothing short of spectacular. The two of us stood at the front of a line forming while we waited for the ride.

  I glanced down and noticed she wasn’t wearing shoes. “Your mom’s gonna be crazy mad when she sees you barefoot.”

  She shrugged with indifference. “I’ll put them back on before she gets here.” Randi tilted her head and shielded her brow from the sun to watch the metal wheel spin.

  “She’s not here?” Even I knew that was odd.

  The ballerinas had quit twirling when Randi locked her gaze with mine. She shook her head quickly and then stared over my shoulder at something in the distance.

  I couldn’t think of any reason her mom would miss a party she had planned. “Where is she?”

  She dropped her head, and my attention shifted to her feet. Her toes kicked at the grass nervously. “I don’t know.” It was barely a whisper.

  Had I not been listening for an answer, I would have missed it over the chatter of people around us and the rides running. The bouncy house to our right provided all kinds of white noise to keep it inflated. It didn’t take a rocket scientist to recognize she was upset. Even realizing that, I didn’t have a clue how to fix it. Thankfully, the ride stopped, and we were seated in the empty cart. There wasn’t a word exchanged between the two of us. She stared over the side and clung to my hand. Our fingers wound together, and I wondered if that was the only thing keeping her grounded. Her thoughts were a million miles away. She could have easily floated off with them.

  I didn’t know much about girls and even less about women, but I had an older brother who was an expert. Charlie always told me that if a woman was quiet, and I was positive that I wasn’t the cause, then keep my mouth shut. That’s what I did through all ten circles we took. And when the guy running the ride let us off, I decided she’d had enough time in her head. The bouncy house was the first thing we came to, so I pushed her inside and climbed in after her.

  It only took a few bounces before I had her moving like a jumping bean. Her dress flipped up over her face, and I was grateful she’d had the forethought to put shorts on under it. No matter how hard she tried to scramble to her feet to retaliate, I kept her flopping around on her back with the help of some other kids from our class. Her laughter overtook the air like she needed it all.

  When I finally saw her eyes again, the ballerinas were back, as was the glitter. I was lightheaded, and my chest felt big. Gasping for a breath, I jumped high, and then when I landed, I promptly flopped to my back next to her. Everyone else moved on to another part of the bouncy house or out the front flap when they saw the show was over. Randi and I lay there for as long as I could stand the heat. That thing was like a sweat box.

  “Come on. I smell barbecue. Let’s get something to eat.” I could always eat, but anytime the scent of meat on a smoker hit my nose, I was like a hound hunting prey. I had to have it.

  She scooted out on her bottom, and I tried my best to keep my balance in front of her on my feet. “Do you ever get full?”

  “Nope. My mom says between Charlie and me, we’re going to eat her out of house and home.” I helped her between the flaps and steady her feet on the grass. “I don’t really get that saying.”

  Randi tossed her head back, laughing. “I think it means you eat a lot.”

  Well, duh. I just thought a house and a home were the same thing. “Charlie eats way more than I do.”

  She didn’t care about our refrigerator or what was in our pantry. “There’s jalapeño poppers.”

  “With sausage and cream cheese?”

  Her eyes rolled. “Is there any other kind?”

  Not worth having. I followed her to the huge, white tent lined with more smokers than I could count and even more men manning them. I didn’t have a clue what was under each of those lids. Randi didn’t hesitate to meander through the crowd to one in particular. She chattered on as we waited our turn, and I glanced around. I hadn’t noticed the lights strung from all four corners of the tent. They went down the sides, through the middle, and up to the top. It was like her very own circus tent without the red stripes. The only people I’d ever seen with this kind of thing were having a wedding. Randi Adams had one for her tenth birthday.

  We loaded up on enough poppers to put us both in a food coma and found a seat. Every adult within earshot decided that was the time to tell her happy birthday, keeping her from eating.

  During a brief intermission of good wishes, I asked, “You want a drink?”

  Before she could answer, her dad sat next to her. Randi nodded to me, and I took that as my indication to grab us both something. Drinks were located in troughs of ice at the far end of the smokers. It wasn’t that it was all that far, there were just that many people there. And in small-town Texas, you didn’t pass a neighbor—young or old—without speaking. Not unless you wanted to have your hide tanned with a strap or twig when your parents got wind of it. Personally, I wasn’t interested in a blistered bottom, so I talked as I moved.

  By the time I made it back to Randi, it felt like I’d been gone for an hour, although it was probably only minutes since the ice in the cups hadn’t melted and the cans stung my hands they were so cold. However long I’d been gone had been too long.

  Randi’s dad still sat at her side, and somehow, he’d brought gloom that had settled in alongside him. My brow furrowed in confusion and irritation. Whatever he said to Randi had produced a scowl in response. In all the years I’d been friends with her, I hadn’t ever seen that look on her face, and I had witnessed some real doozies.

  I didn’t know what to do. I didn’t dare be disrespectful and interrupt. I also refused to let him continue to ruin my best friend’s birthday, which he was clearly doing. Right here in front of nearly every person that lived in Mason Belle, he continued to deliver news that I couldn’t hear. He spoke close to Randi’s ear. The instant I saw Randi’s chin dimple and her lip quiver, I didn’t care if I couldn’t sit for a week or how many lashings I got…and it would be a lot.

  “Randi, are you all right?”

  Slowly, she turned away from her dad and toward me. Her tongue slipped out and across her lips to capture the tears that fell. She shook her head. Had I not been watching, I wouldn’t have noticed it. Bloodshot, brown eyes stared back, pleading with me to save her. And for the first time in my life, I felt the opposite of my chest getting big. It shrunk, constricting painfully at the sight of her emotion running down her cheeks. It physically hurt to breathe, and I could tell she was in more agony than I was.

  Without thought, I dropped the cups I still held, stood on the chair, stepped onto the table, and then took her hand. I jumped off the other side, pulling Randi with me. Her dad hesitated long enough for us to get away before he called after the two of us, but we ignored his requests. I wasn’t sure what reaction I had expected since my mind hadn’t processed what I was doing. It just responded. My feet moved faster. Randi kept up beside me, even without shoes on. The bad thing about cattle ranches and farms, in general, was that there were very few places to hide in fields made for hay and cows. But Randi knew this property better than I did, so when she took the lead, I followed. We ran until our thighs burned and neither of us could run anymore. And together, still holding hands, we f
ell into the tall, uncut hay.

  A sob ripped through the air around us. It took me a minute to realize she hadn’t injured herself when we fell to our backs. This was worse. Far worse. There wasn’t a cut or a scrape. There was no open wound. A Band-Aid wasn’t going to cover this hurt, and I doubted whatever scar that lingered would ever heal. Prior to that moment, I didn’t realize words could be so painful—life-changing.

  All I could do was pull on her hand and try to hug her until the tears stopped and she could talk. She covered her eyes, yet she came without a fight and tucked herself into my side. Lying in the hay where no one could see us through the tall stalks, I held on for dear life while she soaked my shirt.

  * * *

  I didn’t have the foggiest idea how long we had stayed in the fields. It had to have been hours with just nature and a lone cow who came to say hello, briefly. The sun had dropped from its highest place in the sky, and the heat had started to fade. Even through hearing our names called, we never moved. Punishment was inevitable, so at this point, leaving before Randi was ready wouldn’t lessen whatever I faced. There hadn’t been any sirens, and no one turned out the dogs, so they believed we were safe, just avoiding them. Them being whoever looked for us, most likely her parents and mine.

  As if she’d heard my thoughts, she pushed up, breaking free of my hold. Righting herself, she folded her legs Indian style underneath the skirt of her dirty dress, and I followed her lead. With each hand, she swiped at the moisture on the opposite side of her face, leaving streaks worse than makeup would have caused. Her eyes were rimmed red and puffy, and the fury of her emotions fanned out in raw color. The pattern reminded me of a raccoon, although I was smart enough not to share that.

  I was captivated by how her features had changed with her bout of tears. The tip of her normally thin, straight nose was prickled pink and swollen. If I hadn’t been with her, I would assume she’d blown it over and over, irritating it with tissues. And her lips were an ashy shade of grey and puffy. I wasn’t dumb enough to believe she didn’t hurt inside; nevertheless, staring at her, she looked like she was in pain on the outside.

  And at some point, I would have to ask, or we would have to go back to the house. Neither appealed to me. We couldn’t stay out here after dark. It wasn’t that I was scared. It wasn’t safe. Nighttime on a cattle ranch brought predators in search of prey. Randi and I didn’t need to be dinner for any four-legged creature with sharp teeth.

  Unable to face her, I cast my eyes toward the ground and played with a weed. “What did your dad say?” My voice was meek and could barely be heard over the rustle of the wind through the field. “He didn’t look happy.”

  Her eyes focused on something in the distance. I didn’t try to make out what it was. There was no doubt it wasn’t important because she hadn’t reacted. If I had to guess, she was lost in remembering the conversation at the table. The one I’d missed by going to get soda. The same one that caused us to miss out on poppers. And the one I had no misconceptions would leave my rear end so raw that putting on jeans would hurt for several days. My dad would make an example out of me for the rest of the town to see. And he wouldn’t go easy. There was no “sparing the rod” in the Burin house.

  Lost in the scripture my dad used to justify harsh discipline, I missed Randi shift her gaze from the horizon to the ground. The world was eerily quiet. It wasn’t that birds weren’t chirping or that I couldn’t hear cows in the distance—it was that none of it mattered. The wind crept through the acres of hay that surrounded us like a low rustle of crumpling paper. Even through the muted natural noises, somehow, I heard Randi swallow. It was followed by a guttural sound I couldn’t identify, but years later, I would realize it had been her heart breaking.

  “My mama’s not coming back.”

  If Mrs. Adams had been traveling, Randi never mentioned it. People around here didn’t go anywhere other than Laredo or to auctions, and those were day trips.

  “From where?” The moment those two words left my mouth, I remembered she wasn’t at the party.

  She wouldn’t miss her daughter’s birthday. Not to mention, someone put this event together. There was no way it was Mr. Adams—there was too much pink.

  Randi shrugged. My mind warred with whether she truly didn’t know where her mom was or if she simply didn’t care to tell me. If it was the latter, that was fine. Pushing her wasn’t on my agenda.

  “Daddy said she needed a break.”

  “From what?” I scoffed and scowled. The woman didn’t do anything that I had ever seen. “She doesn’t have a job.” My mom would have slapped me across the face for that last sentence.

  Women on ranches—well, the ones I was familiar with—were typically the first ones up and the last to bed. Even if they didn’t feed their ranch hands, they fed their families and days started early. They took care of homes and kids and often anything near the house, too. My own mom wasn’t a stranger to the fields, either.

  I’d never seen Randi’s mom step foot off the porch except to get into the truck to leave, and I certainly hadn’t ever caught her breaking a sweat. She was unique in Mason Belle…a princess of sorts. I’d never tell Randi that, although I was sure she’d heard the hens in town clucking about how her mama had it made.

  Her shoulders shook, and her chest heaved. I hadn’t been prepared for the wail that ripped through her throat and out her mouth. That agony hung in the air like a bird not flapping its wings—suspended, defying gravity, waiting to fall. This time, the tears didn’t come. Nothing followed for a long beat.

  “I don’t know,” she screamed. Her tiny hands balled into fists and pounded the dirt on the ground next to her hips.

  “Did your dad say?”

  Randi’s head moved side to side, rapidly. She shook so hard I worried she’d hurt herself or induce a seizure. And right there, in that field, her entire face boiled crimson red. “She’s never coming back, Austin!”

  I couldn’t fathom a woman leaving her husband, much less her children. Sarah was a parent’s dream, and Miranda was everything her sister wasn’t. Their mom loved the girls. She wouldn’t leave them.

  “But why?”

  She stood, stomping her feet and banging her fists against her thighs. “I guess she doesn’t love us.” Her chin met the sky, and her hair finally gave up the ghost. The tie that had held on for dear life all day let go of the last strand and fell into the dirt. Like a drop of water hitting the surface of a lake, a tiny cloud of dust rose around it.

  There was something significant in the finality of that dust settling, but I was too young to realize what it was. I just knew.

  “Maybe he was wrong.”

  “He isn’t wrong.”

  “How do you know?”

  Randi shifted her eyes back to me and quit screaming at the sky. Her expression stilled and softened—not in happiness, rather defeat. The odd colors dotting her skin hadn’t disappeared, although the pink had returned to her lips. They were slick and shiny where she’d licked them. I studied her mouth, waiting for her response.

  “She asked Daddy for a divorce.”

  Those words didn’t register, or their significance didn’t. Until they did. And once they had, I stumbled over my thoughts and bumbled up all attempts at speaking. The only thing I knew to do was put my arms around her shoulders and press her to my chest until she stopped moving.

  “It’s my fault, Austin.” Her words were muttered into my shirt.

  With firm fingers, I grasped her shoulders and pushed her back. There wasn’t much I could believe with absolute truth at my age. This I knew with complete certainty. “Her leaving is her fault, not yours. She loves you.” I believed that with everything in me. Mamas love their babies. Always.

  Her sad, brown eyes met mine. “If she loved me, she wouldn’t have gone without saying goodbye.”

  And that would forever be the reality that Mrs. Adams left her youngest daughter with. “Why today?”

  Randi pulled her bottom lip
between her teeth and chewed on it for a second. “She knew if she missed my birthday that Daddy would know she was serious.”

  That was crap; even I knew it. “Did your dad tell you that?” My voice strained as I tried to keep from yelling. My anger nearly got the best of me. The only thing that kept it in check was that Randi didn’t deserve to be on the receiving end of it.

  My eyes searched her face as her expression changed from deep sadness to sorrow. “I’ve been asking him all week when she was coming home. And I bugged him a lot this morning. I didn’t want her to miss my party.”

  “So, he decided to tell you in the middle of it?” I didn’t claim to understand adults; however, this went above and beyond anything I could have ever anticipated one doing.

  She shrugged. “I asked when he sat down.”

  “He didn’t come over to tell you that?” Please let her say no. Please let her say no.

  The shake of her head confirmed that, at the very least, he wasn’t a total monster. “I kept pushing.”

  That didn’t surprise me. Randi was used to getting what she wanted. Not that she was spoiled because she wasn’t, but she did spend considerable time swaying opinions. In the end, she was rewarded with the satisfaction of having people change their minds. It was an artform she’d perfected at a very young age.

  I rubbed my hands up and down her arms without a clue of what to say or do in this situation. “Maybe she needs a little time. Once she sees how tough it is on her own, she’ll realize what she left behind.”

  Her chest rose and fell. “I don’t think so.”

  This was one of those times my mom would tell someone she’d pray for them or offer to meet them at the diner for coffee if they needed to talk. If it were really bad, she’d ask them over for supper with their kids. Randi didn’t need prayer; she needed her mom. Neither of us drank coffee. And while I didn’t believe my mom would care if I invited Randi over for dinner, I probably shouldn’t do it before I found out how long I wouldn’t be able to wear pants and how long I would be grounded. There was little I could do to comfort her. Some wounds could only be healed by time, which we didn’t have in this field.