Luca's Dilemma

by Deneice Tarbox

  After a while, Sheila’d come to realize Luca was not only highly intelligent, but a Class– A jokester. He’d figured out that it was actually insomnia brought on by the demands of his stressful life and not narcolepsy that made him feel excessively sleepy at certain periods during the day. He joked about how lucky he was the horses hadn’t taken advantage of his condition by tricking him into feeding them twice. Sheila had rolled with laughter when he started mimicking what the horses would sound like as they wickedly plotted against him. She’d laughed so much her shirtsleeve had become drenched from wiping the coursing tears from her face, and her cheeks had ached for two days.

  At his persistent persuasion, she had shown off some of her sketches. Luca had displayed genuine interest in her art work and even asked if he could purchase a few pieces. It wasn't until it began to grow dark that she realized they had been conversing comfortably for nearly four hours. That was another first for Sheila. No man, besides her brother and father, had ever given her that much attention before, let alone a man so good looking. Although she’d come to adore him, and they were fast becoming friends, she honestly didn't see their relationship progressing any further than that. Her parents would never condone her pairing up with a simple graphic designer who played with horses for a hobby.

  ***

  After a bitter debate, Sheila, Tina, and Richard made their way to the sheep barn figuring the wooly animals were a bit smaller than the hogs, even though Sheila persisted she liked pork much better than lamb. For all intents and purposes, she was ready to greet the little creatures with open arms as it brought her that much closer to her shopping spree. Richard held the barn door open, and she entered, laughing about something Tina had just said and feeling completely at ease by now.

  Walking nonchalantly over to the nearest sheep pen, Sheila began affectionately rubbing the head of one of the curious animals. Its curly fur was surprisingly soft in her hands, and she began to feel a slight connection to the sprightly guy. A smile crossed her lips when the animal kept bucking his wooly head against her hand whenever she tried to pull it away or stilled her motions. The three of them turned from the first pen, still laughing at the antics of the sheep.

  However, the sight in front of her caused Sheila’s merriment to halt dead in its tracks. Right there before her eyes, in Fryeburg Maine, was the epitome of every black southerner's fear… a Klansman. Not wanting to believe what she was seeing, she slowly rolled her eyes to the left then cautiously followed them with the turn of her head, trying her best not to make any sudden moves. To her horror, he wasn’t alone. In fact, there was a herd of them. She stood frozen in place as their beady little eyes focused intently on her through the openings of their white sheet–clad faces. Their “baahing” increased as the intensity of their unified glare started to burrow immense fear into her.

  Suddenly, they were all moving in her direction with a purpose. Fuck, was her last discernible thought before the shroud of an all–out panic attack seized her. Was this some type of warning? Was it a sign of things to come? All Sheila knew was that she best get out of that barn and away from this small town as fast as her long legs could carry her. But her big–ass feet refused to obey.

  “Are you all right?” Tina asked in a faraway voice.

  Sheila tried to swivel her head in her friend's direction, but couldn't. Sheer terror stifled all her movements, paralyzing her in place. Trails of sweat began to pour down her forehead and into her eyes, blurring her vision at the one time in her life she needed it most. Her heart began to pound heavily in her chest, her fear mounting with each deafening beat.

  “Are you okay, miss?” came a male voice from beside her. “You don’t look so good.”

  Within a matter of seconds, a crowd formed around her. Sheila felt as though a corset had been slung around her torso, and each person within reach had a hold on it, tugging it tighter and tighter and cutting off her circulation. Her breathing became shallow, and the fog around her grew heavier by the second, weighing her down like a ton of sand. This was irrefutably scary beyond anything she’d ever experienced in her forty years of life.

  “Let’s get her outside into the fresh air,” she heard someone else say.

  Not sure how, she found herself outside sitting on a bench, surrounded by a sea of intentional do–gooders. The ability to concentrate became more difficult with so many voices — men, women, kids — all blending together around her. More and more people gathered to witness the unfamiliar scene, further exacerbating the situation. Hot tears streamed down her cheeks, and she began to wonder if this nightmare would ever end. Just when she thought it couldn’t get any worse, she started hyperventilating. The respiratory therapist in her knew that it was only a matter of time before she lost consciousness, something else to add to her escalating fear and embarrassment.

  The sudden warmth of Tina's nurturing hand on Sheila’s back broke through to her senses. She chanced a look up at the blur she knew to be her friend, knowing Tina well enough to guess tears of frustration were in her best friend’s eyes. Sheila wanted to tell her to make them go away, that their presence was only making things worse. But the words kept getting lodged in her throat.

  “Okay, people. Move on back and give her some air. You're suffocating her! Let’s give the lady some room to breathe!” a man shouted in an authoritative voice.

  Oh, thank goodness someone has finally come to save me! Lord, please let me live long enough to thank my rescuer and get the hell out of here. I promise to be good. I promise! Sheila prayed silently.

  The supercharged air around her began to lose its intensity as the crowd started to disperse. Within seconds, her breathing had regulated. She continued to keep her eyes closed for another minute in hopes that when they opened she’d find herself completely alone, not ready to face the embarrassment that awaited her. Opening them, she was far from disappointed. The now–familiar Luca sat on his haunches before her.

  Oh my God, they did kill me! How else could this fine ass man be kneeling in front of me, here of all places? The genuine concern on his face and the gentle rub of his calloused fingers across her knuckles started her heart beating fast again, but for a totally different reason.

  “Are you all right?” he asked in the gentlest tone she'd ever heard him use.

  Sheila could only nod in response. Her eyes followed as he stood up to his full height and then sat beside her, his large frame overtaking the small bench. The close proximity instantly warmed her.

  “Here, drink this.”

  He placed his arm on the bench behind Sheila’s shoulders, sending a strange electric jolt up her spine that left hot tingles in its wake. Gently, he lifted a bottle of water to her lips and held it there, not removing it before she got a good swig. Sheila held his hand in place, feeding off the protectiveness that it offered.

  “You want to tell us what happened?”

  Although her distress had subsided, it remained very real. However, it wasn't overwhelming with him sitting next to her and holding her like he was. “I think I need to leave,” she said quietly with her eyes cast down.

  “Why, Shi?” Tina asked with concern. “You were doing well until we entered the sheep barn.”

  At the mention of the sheep barn, Sheila's distress returned. Luca must have sensed it because he moved his hand from where it rested on the back of the bench to her shoulder. Warmth spread through her as he began rubbing little circles there, the action comforting her enough to meet his inquisitive gaze.

  “Did something happen in the sheep barn, baby?”

  Sheila affirmed it with a nod.

  “What happened in the barn?” Tina inquired, scrunching her tiny nose up in confusion. Richard squatted next to his wife, both of them staring at Sheila with their eyebrows knitted together, awaiting her answer.

  “The sheep…” she started, but the rest of her sentence was inaudible, even to her own ears. Although the crowd had dispersed, she could still feel the heat of the many curious eyes that
lingered on her. Those eye bearers had ears too.

  “What?” Richard said with a quick shake of his head, prompting her to speak louder.

  “I said the sheep… they look like Klansmen,” she bit out through clenched teeth, making every attempt to keep all others from overhearing. Her head and eyes darted back and forth in paranoia, as if the hooded men would instantly materialize at the mention of their infamous name.

  Poor Sheila was granted less than a thirty–second reprieve before her two friends were practically rolling on the ground in laughter. Her paranoia gave way to irritation at their refusal to take her seriously.

  “Hey, hey! That shit’s not funny, man!” Sheila vociferously admonished, still dead serious in her fear.

  She turned to Luca to assess his take on her predicament. A slight twitch at the corners of his mouth was all the proof she needed to know he wanted to join her friends in their merriment. She lifted an eyebrow daring him, but he appeared to remain sober for her sake.

  Just then a little girl and an adult that Sheila assumed was the girl’s mother stopped a few feet away and began to stare at her. The intensity of the child's blue–eyed gaze made Sheila squirm, and she was about to speak to the adult about the girl's blatant rudeness when the child spoke first.

  “Mommy,” the girl said, tugging on the adult’s coattail. “That lady with the dirty face is sad.”

  The girl’s poor mother gasped in horror.

  “That’s it. I’m out of here, even if I have to walk home,” Sheila stated just loud enough for those in close proximity to hear. Her attempt to rise and stomp off was thwarted by Luca’s strong arm as he increased his grip on her, effectually holding her in place.

  “Stay,” Luca commanded, earning him one of Sheila’s signature glares that could easily kindle dry wood. “Please stay?” he said in a much milder tone before standing and walking over to the mother and child. “Would you mind?” he asked the still stunned mother while holding his large hand out to the child.

  “Uh, um, I guess not,” the mother responded, her hand still clutching the front of her fleece jacket with embarrassment.

  The little girl hesitated. She looked up at her mom, who gave her a reassuring nod. Reluctantly, the child grasped Luca's hand with her small one and held on to her mom for dear life with the other. They both proceeded to accompany Luca over to the bench where Sheila sat, wondering what the hell he was up to.

  “What’s your name?” Luca asked the little girl.

  “Andrea,” she answered bashfully. She lifted her little pink finger and beckoned Luca toward her.

  Luca complied, leaning in and giving Andrea his ear.

  “Is she going to be okay?” she whispered loud enough for Sheila to hear.

  Luca righted himself. Repeating the girl’s motions, he beckoned Andrea to turn her ear toward him and leaned in close. “Why don’t you ask her yourself? She won't hurt you, and she happens to be cleaner than the two of us at the moment,” he whispered back just as loudly.

  Upon closer inspection, Sheila noticed that the girl's tiny lips were surrounded by what looked like syrup topped with dirt. Nevertheless, Sheila had to admit the girl was adorable with high brown pigtails on either side of her round head. The little girl’s large blue eyes were wide with curiosity. Sheila watched, her own curiosity now piqued, as the little person moved closer to her. She couldn't begin to fathom what would come out of the girl's mouth next.

  Andrea stopped directly in front of her. “I’m sorry I called you dirty. I hope it doesn’t make you cry anymore.” Pure innocence danced in her celestial orbs.

  Sheila couldn’t help but smile. “No problem, sweetie. I promise I won’t cry over it. Friends?” she asked, offering her hand to solidify their new pact.

  Andrea looked to her mother and then to Luca for encouragement before accepting Sheila’s hand. As she held onto it, she began to turn it over in her tiny ones, rubbing the back of it with her tiny facial features drawn together in utter concentration. “It's so soft, and pretty,” she gushed in surprise.

  “It sure is,” Luca stated emphatically, taking Sheila’s unoccupied hand in his. Every available eye swung his way, but he seemingly ignored them, keeping his attention on Andrea. “Now do you understand that not only do people come in different colors, everyone has feelings just like you and me?” he asked gently. “Keep that in mind the next time you run across someone that doesn’t quite look like you.”

  “I will, mister.” She looked up at her mother with pride from having learned something new. “Thank you, miss, and I hope you’re not sad anymore,” she said to Sheila.

  “Thanks to you, I’m not,” Sheila responded, beaming.

  Andrea returned the smile just as broadly. She took her mother’s hand, and the two of them walked away.

  “That went well,” Tina chimed in from the sidelines.

  “Yeah, I guess it did,” Sheila agreed. “Thanks to my landlord.” She cast him a slight smile, conveying her gratitude before dropping all pretenses of humor. “I still want to go home.” It would take more than a warm and fuzzy encounter to change her mind about hanging here all day after what she’d witnessed. The horrendous sight of those damn sheep still danced vividly in her head.

  “Come now, there's no need for all that. These people aren't going to hurt you,” Luca said reassuringly as he hugged her closer. The hug felt damn good, but it still wasn't enough to persuade her.

  “Yeah. And we just got here. I'm not ready to go,” Richard protested in a whiny voice. “Besides, I’m due in the horse stables later. I can’t take you home.”

  Sheila'd had her fill of Richard and was about to tell him so. Luca, however, beat her to the punch.

  “Okay… why did you bring her here again?” he asked curiously, obviously oblivious to the couple’s brilliant plan to desensitize her to the animal kingdom.

  “We just wanted to get her past this irrational fear of animals that she has,” Tina answered, even though the shrinking of her voice implied that it no longer sounded like such a good idea to her.

  “Fear of animals? So you purposely brought a woman with zoophobia to one of the largest agricultural events in the region? I'm sorry. I just don't understand why anyone would bring someone like that to the Fryeburg Fair, of all places,” Luca reprimanded, not hiding his displeasure at their antics. “You're supposed to be her friends. Even I know better than to force such a thing on a city girl like her.”

  “Okay, Romeo. You were doing well up to that last comment,” Sheila said, crossing her arms under her breasts.

  Luca’s gaze dropped fleetingly to Sheila’s cleavage. But he appeared not to hear her as he lifted his head again and began rotating it from Tina to Richard, as though trying to discern their way of thinking. They visibly shrank from his scrutiny, unable to meet him eye to eye. A momentary feeling of compassion went out to her friends before Sheila’s common sense swiftly laid it to rest.

  “Tell you what,” Luca began again after the couple remained silent. “Why don’t I just keep her with me at the stables until you’re ready to take over? Then I’ll take her home.”

  “The stables!” Sheila exclaimed, the shrill of her voice causing those milling about to stop and stare.

  “Don’t worry. It’ll only be for a couple of hours, and I’ll make sure to keep you away from the horses. That is, unless you want to cozy up to Chino. I bet he'd like that.” That sly crooked smile that Sheila had grown oh so familiar with was on his handsome face. He lifted his thick dark eyebrows up and down in a suggestive manner, the action bringing forth a chuckle from her.

  Sheila sat silent, weighing her options and quickly concluding that she really didn't have any. “Well… sure, I guess I’ll just hang out with horse–boy here for a while.”

  “Well, that settles it,” Tina said. “I’ll check in on you later, make sure you’re still doing okay, and that this isn’t Luca’s way of avenging the many tongue–lashings that you’ve so nicely gifted him over the last fe
w months.”

  They all laughed.

  “And, Sheila,” Tina continued after sobering, “we're sorry. I should have thought this through a little better.”

  Sheila shrugged, still smiling. “It's all good.”

  ***

  Tina and Richard left to continue their perusal of the animal barns, while Sheila and Luca made their way toward a long row of RVs.

  “Why are we going over there?” Sheila inquired, nodding toward the silver and white shelters as they approached them.

  “To get you something more appropriate to wear. No one appreciates your good looks more than I, but this isn’t exactly the place for you to show them off. We need to change your attire.”

  “Oh really, this isn’t appropriate?” she said jokingly, hoping that her teasing masked the overwhelming gaiety that swept over her from his compliment.

  “Ayuh.”

  “Stop that!” she scolded, evoking a chuckle from him.

  They stepped up into a small, silver motor home where Luca quickly retrieved a pair of well–worn overalls, a blue fleece jacket, and a pair of rubber boots for her to put on. After making sure Sheila was warm enough inside the small shelter, Luca went outside, granting her privacy so that she could change. With her task completed, she opened the door and stepped from the shelter, snickering at the too–big items on her person.

  “This is kinda cool. Rarely do I come across a man with clothes and feet much bigger than mine.” She stood in front of him, kicking her feet up and waving the excess material hanging over her hands back and forth like flaccid wings.

  “I’d say that sucks for you,” Luca replied with a lascivious look on his face.