Dead Woman Crossing

by J. R. Adler

  “I’m sorry,” David said. “I can’t stand these city drivers.”

  “It’s okay. She was due for a tantrum anyway.” Kimberley grabbed her stuffed elephant and a pacifier from the diaper bag at Jessica’s feet. She had been weaning her daughter off the pacifier, and it was now only used for emergencies like tantrums in hour-long car drives.

  “It’s okay, Jessica,” Kimberley said in her soothing motherly voice as she handed over the little gray elephant and the pacifier. Jessica cried a little more before taking the pacifier with her tiny hand and popping it between her pouty lips. She held Ellie underneath her arm and against her chest. Her eyes were still wet. Her face was still red. Her nose pushed air in and out quickly as she began calming down.

  “Good girl,” Kimberley said with a smile as she faced forward in her seat.

  Traffic was moving again. She glanced over at David who appeared more comfortable. His raised shoulders had fallen. One hand had released itself from its steering-wheel death grip and was now fiddling with the radio station.

  “Sorry about that.”

  “It’s quite alright. It’s not the first time she’s heard someone raise their voice in front of her,” Kimberley admitted.

  David glanced over at Kimberley and then back at the road again.

  “Don’t worry. Jessica’s too young to remember anything that happened between you and that ex of yours.”

  Before she could say anything, like thank him for saying exactly what she needed to hear, he changed the subject.

  “You like country music?”

  She didn’t but she said yes anyway.

  David turned the radio to an oldie’s country station. A song by Alan Jackson played softly, while David tapped his fingers on the steering wheel to the rhythm of the music. He wasn’t a man that could sit still, always fiddling with something.

  When the song ended and a loud commercial started up, David turned down the volume slightly.

  “I think you and Jessica are going to like living on a farm,” he said.

  “Yeah, I think so too. I know Mom loves it.”

  With Oklahoma City behind them now, all that lay ahead was a long stretch of highway that seemed like it had no end. Kimberley looked out her window. The wheat fields were a blur of gold. When she thought of the country, she thought of the color green. But not here in Oklahoma. It was gold. Heck, New York City had more greenery than this.

  “The farm’s been in our family for generations and generations,” David said with a pleased smile.

  “That’s impressive.” She knew that tidbit already, but she let David think it was the first time she had heard it. He was clearly proud of his family farm.

  “I’m glad my daughter Emily found a man like Wyatt who was willing and wanting to take over the farm. Most men these days are soft. Buncha whining pussies, if ya ask me.”

  “Based on my ex, I’d say you were right,” Kimberley joked.

  David gave a wry smile. “I think you and my daughter will get along real well. You’re both about the same age.”

  “I hope so,” she said with little conviction in her voice. Kimberley had never been good at making friends. She was a bit of a loner, but she knew she had to change. Keeping everyone at arm’s length wasn’t doing her any good and it wouldn’t do her daughter any good either.

  “The Thunder Rolls” by Garth Brooks came on the radio, and David turned the volume back up. He clearly liked the song as he began to sing along with it, tapping his fingers on the wheel. Kimberley looked back out her passenger window at the big blue skies that were slowly cascading into hues of pink, yellow, and orange, thanks to the sun that was falling behind the horizon. Everywhere around them was wide-open spaces and far-reaching fields that appeared to go on and on forever. For many, they would see this as nothing. But Kimberley saw something. She saw opportunity, a new life, a fresh start. She now knew what the frontiersmen must have felt when they “headed out west.” Hope. This would be her better life.

  On top of a slower-paced life, she expected her new job as chief deputy would also be less time-consuming and demanding, allowing her more time to spend with Jessica. Her life in New York had become near impossible, but in Oklahoma, there was possibility. She’d miss the energy that the city radiated, the hustle, the fact that anything she could ever want was available like Chinese food at 3 a.m. However, she had learned that New York City couldn’t give her everything she wanted. It couldn’t give her time with her daughter or a close relationship with her mother. She needed it now more than ever. She tried to make the city work while being a single mother, and she had for sixteen months… barely.

  The song ended and once again, David turned down the radio.

  “How ya feeling about the new job, Chief Deputy King?” He raised an eyebrow.

  “Good. It’ll be different than the city, but I’m looking forward to a change. Sheriff Walker seemed great during my phone interviews.”

  “He’s a good man… His views are a bit modern for my taste. Regardless, he does a good job at keeping our town safe.”

  “Modern?” Kimberley tilted her head.

  “Well, he hired you. We’ve never had a female on the force before.”

  Kimberley bit her lower lip, mulling over what to say in response to his outdated beliefs. This wasn’t a point of view she had ever really encountered in the city, but she was sure it was one she’d be seeing a lot more of in the South.

  “We have different definitions of modern then,” Kimberley settled on.

  David glanced over at Kimberley.

  “Oh, I don’t mean anything by it. I just believe in taking care and providing for my family. I think that’s the man’s job. But you… you’ve gotta step up because your boy stepped back.”

  He returned his focus back to the road.

  “Well, regardless, I think you’re going to like it here. Us Oklahomans are the salt of the earth, not too good for nothin’ like them coastal elites out by y’all,” David said with a smile.

  Kimberley forced a smile back as a new song came on the radio.

  “I’m just teasing ya.” He turned the volume back up, his fingers drumming against the steering wheel once again.

  The sun had fallen completely below the horizon when they pulled into the town, which was marked by a sign that read “Dead Woman Crossing—Unincorporated.” The town was so small it didn’t even have a population. How strange, Kimberley thought.

  “Almost home,” David said over the song.

  Kimberley’s eyes followed the smattering of various house styles, all very old and collapsing in on themselves, like a row of dying stars, dim and lifeless. The wheatgrass was everywhere: on the edge of the road, in between houses, running off into the distance across the horizon. It looked like a virus, centered here but spreading its tendrils throughout the land, choking everything out that wasn’t exactly like it.

  David pointed toward Kimberley’s passenger window. “Over there is our little downtown, I guess you’d call it. Coffee shop, laundromat, pharmacy, and a convenience store. All the basics.”

  Without David naming them off, she wouldn’t have known what any of them were as their lights and signs were turned off, just little brick buildings full of glass windows.

  Dead Woman Crossing appeared rather deserted save for the lit-up windows of the local bar, The Trophy Room, which was in the center of the town at its only four-way stop. The siding of the building was an unintentional off-white, presumably because it was dirty. Various tacky neon beer signs were hung in the windows. The gravel parking lot was around half full of trucks and motorcycles. She could see people shuffling around inside. Several picnic tables were set up off to the sides of the front door. A few men sat at a table, smoking what she thought were cigarettes but couldn’t be sure, and they clearly noticed her, as their eyes were fixed on her. David rolled down his window and waved at them, but their line of focus was like a laser beam with their target being Kimberley. She might not be from a small t
own, but Kimberley knew that look. It was suspicion. It said you don’t belong.

  “That’s The Trophy Room,” David said proudly. “A nice place for us men to blow off steam.”

  “I guess I’ll have to check it out sometime,” Kimberley said with a smirk.

  David drove through the four-way crossing, continuing through the town.

  Dead Woman Crossing would be quite a change for her. In Manhattan, Kimberley could walk past a thousand people in a day and not one of them would look at her, let alone notice her presence. But here, she already had a sense that everyone was always watching.

  Kimberley turned around, checking on Jessica again. She had fallen asleep, the pacifier in her lap, her head craned to the side and her hands crumpled up in tiny little fists. She glanced through the back window at The Trophy Room; the men’s necks were twisted in her direction, their eyes lit up like tiny yellow orbs, still watching her. She turned in her seat, facing forward again.

  “Over there is our grocery store. Pearl and Bill own that. It’s small, but they have most of what we need.” David pointed to the small shop on the corner that was also closed.

  It seemed Dead Woman Crossing shutdown early, save for The Trophy Room.

  “There’s a Walmart in Weatherford, about fifteen minutes from the farm, but we try to support local first and foremost,” he added.

  “I was the same way in New York City, local first,” Kimberley said with a nod.

  “Good. You’ll fit in just fine around here then.”

  David pulled the car into the long gravel driveway of the family farm. She could only see as far as the headlights shined at first until the spacious white weather-boarded house with a wraparound porch came into sight. David put the car into park right in front of the home, and Kimberley couldn’t pull her eyes from the beauty of it all. She definitely wasn’t in New York City anymore, as her entire apartment there could have fit within the porch alone. Excitement for her new life and her temporary home swelled inside of her as she thought about Jessica running back and forth across the large porch, rolling around in the wheatgrass fields, and jumping in the dark with hands splayed trying to catch fireflies. A large gust of wind swayed several of the wooden rockers on the porch, almost like a ghostly greeting for Kimberley and her daughter.

  2

  Kimberley climbed out of the passenger door and made her way to the back to grab Jessica, who was still sound asleep. She couldn’t believe how exhausted her little girl was, but she welcomed it; it made for a smooth transition and easy travels. She thought of her little girl waking up in a new house. No more sirens. No more loud neighbors banging and clamoring around at all times of the day. No more crammed subway rides. No more absentee mother and deadbeat father. Here, in Oklahoma, she would have peace and quiet, space to run around and be free in, a family, and a more attentive mother. With a less demanding job, she’d have more time to spend with her daughter.

  David killed the engine and meandered to the trunk, loaded up with Kimberley’s belongings, before returning to the front of the car. He waited and watched the process unfold as Kimberley removed Jessica and all the accessories and equipment required to keep a small child running smoothly and cleanly.

  “That’s a lot of stuff for such a little girl,” David said with a small grin.

  Kimberley looked down, noting everything she had in tow—a diaper bag, a stroller, a tote bag, a backpack and Jessica.

  “They say it takes a village to raise a child, but I think it takes a caravan of random products.” Kimberley returned his smile.

  David let out a small laugh.

  Jessica barely stirred, still tired from all her travels, while Kimberley lumbered forward. With her daughter in tow, she eyed the large white farmhouse with excitement. While Oklahoma wasn’t her first choice for relocating post-New York City, a house would be a big upgrade from her dingy five-hundred-square-foot apartment that was, in all honesty, not enough room for both her and her daughter. But like everything else in her life, Kimberley made it work, and she’d make Oklahoma work too. She had considered moving to the Midwest, but she was over cold, snowy winters. She had considered another southern state, like North Carolina, but her motivation for moving was to give Jessica a better life and childhood, and she knew Jessica needed more than just Kimberley. She needed a family, people that loved and cared for her. That was why she had landed on Oklahoma.

  “Alright, I’ll show you to your room then,” David called out from the front of the vehicle, a tacit cue to follow his lead.

  Kimberley nodded, but her eyes searched the large windows of the white farmhouse. Where was her mother? Why hadn’t she come out to greet her?

  Kimberley began making her way toward the front door with Jessica held against her chest, her little legs wrapped around her mother’s waist, assuming she and David would meet at the pathway heading up the front lawn before ceding his lead forward, but David called out, “The entrance is around back, this way.”

  Perhaps the room had its own private doorway to the backyard, Kimberley thought. That would be perfect for her actually. Jessica could play outside just within view and Kimberley could come and go from work without disturbing anyone. They made their way around the side of the house and then veered left down a rock-lined dirt path, deeper into the land. That’s when Kimberley saw it, the little cottage tucked in the crook of the property line. A skin tag that was conveniently hidden within the armpit of this body of land. Compared to the massive farmhouse, the cottage was so small, it looked like a scale model of it. It didn’t have the big wraparound porch, but it was a weathered white-boarded house.

  Kimberley stifled a laugh when she thought of a line from the movie Zoolander, “What is this? A center for ants?” Such a silly movie, but it was one she had seen nearly a dozen times thanks to her ex-boyfriend. That should have been a red flag on date one.

  “So, what’s your favorite movie?” she had asked.

  Aaron had replied confidently without skipping a beat. “Easy, Zoolander. For sure.”

  She had first laughed until she saw the confused look on his face and realized he wasn’t kidding. She should have tossed her napkin down and walked out of the restaurant, right then and there. Kimberley immediately erased the thought when she looked down at Jessica, her face smushed against her chest. Red cheeks. Messy hair. Those pouty lips still pouting even when her baby girl was asleep. She kissed the top of her head and returned her gaze to the cottage and then her own feet, careful not to trip.

  Kimberley had already figured out exactly what was going on, but she wanted to hear it from David. She wanted to hear the reasoning why she and her daughter had to live in quarantine, separated from everyone else. Why she was being viewed as a pariah before even stepping foot on this little slice of David’s paradise?

  “Not headed into the house?” Kimberley cocked her head even though David wasn’t looking at her.

  “Nope.”

  “So, Jessica and I are being kept in timeout?” A tinge of sarcasm and venom dripped from the words. She couldn’t help herself. Her New York directness was coming out in full force.

  David stopped in his tracks and turned to face Kimberley. “I think you have the wrong idea here, Kimberley. Your mother and I live in the cottage as well. So, if you wanna call it a timeout, be my guest, but it suits us just fine.”

  Fuck, Kimberley thought to herself. She looked ungrateful, rude, and like an idiot. She bit at the corner of her lower lip, like she usually did when she had said something uncouth. In New York, that type of directness was the norm, but here she feared she’d end up biting a hole through her lip. She’d have to learn to be like them. Time to one-eighty the tone, Kimberley thought, and maybe ask before assuming, without all the New York attitude and directness.

  “I was just joking. I think it looks lovely, and the property back here is beautiful,” she said, forcing the corners of her lips to move upward and outward. The muscles in her face were already tiring as she wasn’t used
to masquerading this many pleasantries.

  “Good, glad to hear it,” David turned back round and called over his shoulder. The whole misunderstanding smoothed over quicker than it occurred.

  Kimberley hesitated but followed behind and tried to keep some sort of conversation going, so her stepfather would forget she had offended him and his generosity.

  “So, uh… who’s in the big house then if you and Mom are out here?” Kimberley asked.

  “Emily, Wyatt and the boys.”

  “Makes sense.”

  “That’s right. They needed the space, especially them boys.” David chuckled. “They’d run up the walls if they could.”

  “I can’t wait to meet them.”

  “They don’t sit still long enough to meet them.” David chuckled again. “Heck, I’ve got three hundred acres of farmland, and I don’t think that’s enough space for them.”

  “Well, I really appreciate you opening up some space for Jessica and me,” Kimberley said, remembering to thank him.

  “Not a problem. You’re family, and your mom said it was just until you got on your feet. A couple of paychecks and you’ll be standing upright.” David looked back and gave a quick nod.

  She gave a small smile and swallowed hard, caught off guard by David’s comment. She hadn’t realized she was already on the clock to find a new place. Before even stepping into the cottage, Kimberley already felt like she had overstayed her welcome… but those feelings quickly subsided when the front door of the cottage swung open.

  There stood her mother, Nicole. She was thin and tall with a bob of gray hair. Dressed in a clean cream-white nightgown and a pair of slippers, she ran to Kimberley and wrapped her arms around her and her granddaughter.

  “I missed you so much,” Nicole whispered into Kimberley’s ear. She sniffled.

  “Missed you too, Mom.”

  The fact that Kimberley could wrap her arms around her mother while holding her daughter made her realize how thin Nicole had gotten. She rubbed her mother’s back, feeling each vertebra, like small rocks placed evenly down her spine. She wondered if she was sick. Her mother would have told her, right? As she pulled away, Kimberley took a closer look at her mom. The only solid source of light coming from the moon made it difficult to see her clearly, a shadow cast across her frail face, making her look like a figment of herself, a drawing of her mother not yet fully colored in. The eyes she remembered as being vibrant were dull and bloodshot. Beneath them, sunken and dark bags, like two freshly dug holes waiting for the eyes to close permanently and bury themselves within. Her mother had to have been sick or at the very least not taking care of herself. Kimberley felt a small sense of relief that she had had the foresight to enroll Jessica in a local daycare ahead of time, especially now that she had seen how unwell her mother looked.