by Jackie Lynn
“You had a lot of snow in eastern North Carolina, did you?” Ms. Lou Ellen asked. Her voice carried a bit of sarcasm.
Rose finished cleaning the countertop and placed the dishrag across the edge of the sink. “No, we did not,” she replied. “I mostly just miss the possibility of it.”
Chariot smiled at that. “I don’t think I would ever miss snow,” she noted. “Or even the thought of it. I’ve seen enough of it to last me the rest of my life.”
The other two women nodded.
“Are you traveling in search of a place that bears no mark of winter?” Ms. Lou Ellen asked.
The question seemed to confuse Chariot. She finished her biscuit and wiped her mouth off with the extra napkin the older woman placed next to her arm. “No, ma’am,” she answered. “I like winter.”
“Just not snow?” Rose asked. She had moved over to the table to join the two women. She sat down with a fresh cup of coffee.
“Just not snow on the plains,” Chariot replied. “I’m just tired of seeing nothing but miles and miles of white. Sometimes it feels like I’m going blind.”
The two women considered this observation.
“But, it’s home, it’s all I really know.” A tear slipped from the young woman’s eye and she quickly wiped it away.
“Well, it’s nice to have you down south for a bit,” Rose noted, trying to change the subject. She had noticed the tear.
“Do you camp?” she asked. “Would you like to stay at Shady Grove?”
Ms. Lou Ellen turned to her friend. Rose couldn’t tell if she thought it was too nosy of a question.
“I have a tent,” the young woman announced. “I could stay in the tent.” It seemed as if the idea was one she hadn’t considered. And it seemed as if she liked it.
“It’s still chilly,” Ms. Lou Ellen commented. Then she remembered to whom she was speaking. “But I guess a person from South Dakota can stand a little Arkansas chill.”
Chariot smiled and nodded.
“You’re traveling alone?” Ms. Lou Ellen asked. She glanced out the window in the direction of the car parked in front of the office.
Chariot nodded. “I left home in a hurry,” she said.
“Why ever would you do that?” Ms. Lou Ellen asked. “Are you in some kind of trouble?”
There was a slight movement under the table and the older woman seemed startled to feel Rose’s foot pressed against her shin. “Excuse me, Rose. Did you just kick me?” she asked, completely unaware that her friend was trying to get her attention.
“No, I’m sorry, was that your leg?” Rose asked. Then she tried to change the subject. “Do you want another biscuit?” she asked.
Chariot shook her head. “Oh, no, one was more than enough.” She took another sip from her coffee. “It was very good,” she added.
“It’s country ham. And I add a little sugar to it. That’s what makes it sweet,” Ms. Lou Ellen explained.
Chariot nodded. “My grandmother used to make us ham biscuits,” she said. “I haven’t had one since I was a little girl.”
“In South Dakota?” Ms. Lou Ellen asked.
Rose could tell that her friend was fishing for information.
There was a pause in the conversation.
“In Mitchell,” Chariot replied. And then she waited. “And you’re right about the other thing, too.”
Ms. Lou Ellen and Rose waited for an explanation.
“I think I’m in a whole lot of trouble,” she said, sounding surprised with the confession. “I think I’m in the most trouble I’ve ever known.”
FIVE
What variety of trouble do you find yourself in?” Ms. Lou Ellen wanted to know. “Although, here at Shady Grove I doubt the brand matters much. We take all kinds, don’t we, dear?” She glanced over to Rose.
Rose smiled. “I’d say we don’t tend to discriminate against the troubles folks bring in.”
The young woman took in a deep breath. Clearly, she wasn’t sure she should elaborate about her situation to the two women. She eyed Rose and Ms. Lou Ellen. It appeared as if she was trying to read them.
“I think I’m a witness to something,” she finally said.
Rose and Ms. Lou Ellen waited.
“I don’t know—” She stopped. She seemed to change her mind, realizing that she wasn’t ready to talk about what had happened. “Maybe I didn’t see anything.”
“That’s fine,” Ms. Lou Ellen said, recognizing the reluctance. She patted the girl on the arm with a measure of reassurance. “You don’t have to discuss your trouble. Not now, not just after your biscuit.” She smiled. “But tell us, why did this trouble bring you to Arkansas?”
Chariot smiled, too, relieved not to have to explain.
“I met Rhonda at the bike rally a few years ago,” she said. She could see that the two women didn’t know what she meant. “In Sturgis,” she added, thinking that might help make it clearer.
Neither woman responded.
“It’s a big rally for motorcycle owners,” she noted. “Been going on since the fifties or some time a real long time ago.”
“Yes, that was ages ago,” Ms. Lou Ellen said with a wink. “Before you were even a blip on your mother’s radar,” she added.
Chariot nodded without fully understanding the older woman. “I don’t even think my mama was born until the sixties,” she said.
Ms. Lou Ellen lifted her eyebrows. “I am old as dirt,” she responded.
Rose laughed. “Anyway, Chariot, go on,” she instructed.
“Rhonda and Lucas came to Sturgis, to the rally. It’s held every year in August. And that’s when I first saw them, when me and Jason met them.”
Rose nodded. “When was that?” she asked.
“It was five years ago, I think.” Chariot considered the question. “No, wait, it was right after Jason and I got together, right after—” She stopped. “It was four years ago. I had just moved back to Pierre,” she said, obviously pulling herself together. “And I hooked up with Jason there. He was the one who had the bike,” she explained. “And we went together to the rally to work at his friend’s shop.”
“And that’s where you came in contact with my Rhonda?” Ms. Lou Ellen asked.
Chariot nodded. “She came into the store to buy a shirt.”
“I bet it was black,” the older woman noted.
“I, uh, don’t remember,” Chariot said, wondering if the older woman really thought she should know.
“I’m teasing you, child,” Ms. Lou Ellen explained. “Rhonda and Lucas tend only to wear black.”
Chariot smiled and nodded. “It’s a biker thing,” she noted.
“Yes, I guess it is.” Ms. Lou Ellen placed her hands in her lap.
“They’ve been back to the Dakotas since then, haven’t they?” Rose asked. She remembered hearing her friend talk about the big event in the summer. And she knew that the two of them had enjoyed riding around the Black Hills area. It was, she thought she recalled hearing, one of their favorite places to ride.
“It’s real pretty there. And the roads are fun to drive,” Chariot responded. “When there’s not a lot of snow. Most bikers come back.”
“It’s where Rushmore is, isn’t it?” Rose asked. “Near Rapid City?”
Chariot nodded. “There’s lots of neat places to drive. There’s the Badlands and Spearfish and there’s an old western town now, too, called Deadwood.” She wrapped her arms around her chest and sat back in her chair, appearing to relax a bit. “A lot of people go there to gamble,” she added.
“So, you met Rhonda and Lucas at the rally,” Rose noted, trying to pick the conversation back up.
“Yeah, she came in the store to buy a shirt and we started talking and we just hit it off. So later, the four of us went out to a concert and then out to Custer.”
“As in the last stand?” Ms. Lou Ellen asked.
Chariot didn’t understand the question.
“Custer’s?” Ms. Lou Ellen added.
The young woman shrugged. She was not following the line of conversation at all.
“The general who fought the Indians and died in the battle in 1876?” Ms. Lou Ellen pulled out a handkerchief and dabbed her nose. “Never mind, dear, the incident actually occurred at Little Bighorn, which happens to be in Montana.”
“I don’t know,” Chariot responded. “It’s just the name of a little town at the state park. They let buffalo graze there and people camp and stuff.”
Ms. Lou Ellen smiled. It was clear the young woman from South Dakota did not know much Indian history. She would not pursue the line of questioning any further.
“So”—Rose picked up the conversation, recognizing that Ms. Lou Ellen was not going to ask anything further about Custer and the places he had battled—“you met Rhonda and Lucas at the bike rally four years ago and now, here you are.”
Chariot nodded. She knew it sounded illogical so she tried to make more sense of it. “Rhonda helped me out from time to time after we met. I used to do a lot of drugs and she was trying to help me get straight.”
Ms. Lou Ellen smiled. That needed no explanation. She understood that completely.
“I finally got myself straight and I remember how she told me about her place here. She invited me and Jason to come sometime. We just”— she paused—“we never got around to it.”
“I see,” Rose responded.
There was a lull in the conversation.
“And so, you and Jason are no longer together and you have loaded up your belongings and decided to leave the snow and the plains and the remnants of war and bike rallies and come south.” Ms. Lou Ellen smiled at herself. Clearly, she was pleased that she had figured it out. “Dear, it is quite fine that you are here and alone. I can spot man trouble from a mighty long way.”
Chariot was suddenly crying.
“Now, now,” Ms. Lou Ellen said as she handed the young woman her handkerchief. “We will fix you up just fine here at Shady Grove.”
The young woman wiped her nose and shook her head. “No, it’s not like that,” she said.
“It never is,” Ms. Lou Ellen said. She got up and took a glass from the cabinet. She poured Chariot a glass of water and set it in front of her. “But here’s the thing, your boy may have been special and he may have been handsome riding his Harley Hog, but trust me on this one, you will find another the instant you are ready.” She sat back down in her seat and touched at the sides of her hair.
“Yes, well, you should know,” Rose interjected. “You have found and married enough to put you in some book of records.”
Ms. Lou Ellen narrowed her glance at Rose. “Just because I have dabbled in the art of marital relations a few times—”
Rose cleared her throat. “A few times?”
“A number of times,” Ms. Lou Ellen corrected herself. “That does not prohibit me from sharing my expertise with the young.”
Chariot wiped her eyes and even managed a smile. “I just needed to get away,” she said, without further explanation. She was trying to pull herself together.
“And this is a good place to do that,” Rose said. “I should know. I did the same thing about two years ago.”
Chariot looked at the woman, hoping to hear more.
“I have a little travel trailer,” Rose said, seeing the curiosity on the girl’s face. “Hooked it up to my Ford Bronco and headed out of North Carolina and landed in Arkansas.”
“It’s as if she was sent to us,” Ms. Lou Ellen said, reaching over and squeezing Rose’s hand.
“It’s a good place to be to sort through your”—she hesitated—“through your trouble.”
Chariot blushed and looked away.
“So, would you like to put your tent up or would you rather stay in one of the camping cabins we have on site?”
Rose was all business now. And she jumped up from her seat and went over to the desk to get the appropriate paperwork.
The young visitor cleared her throat and was happy to be onto another subject. “I think I’d like to stay in the tent,” she replied. “I sort of like being outside now that I’m in a place where the ground is warm.”
She also didn’t mention, but certainly considered that being in a tent provided her with a better opportunity to be able to hear vehicles coming in case the police officer she had seen at her apartment found out where she was.
“You want to be near the river?” Rose asked, looking over the map at the available sites.
“I think I would rather be away, um, out of sight,” she requested.
Ms. Lou Ellen and Rose glanced over at each other, but neither of them asked a question. It was clear that the camper was not going to reveal any more information about herself and her situation. They would leave the questions to Rhonda.
“Then we shall set you up out in one of the wooded sites,” Rose said. “They’re just straight down from the office, but they’re the least visible.” She pointed in the direction of where the most hidden tent sites were located.
Chariot nodded and immediately stood up. “I have cash,” she said, reaching in her back pocket and pulling out a twenty-dollar bill. She had a small duffel bag full of cash that Jason had thrown in the backseat with the camping gear.
Rose waved it away. She knew her boss would not take her friend’s money. “You and Rhonda can work that out,” she said. “You’ll be at number fourteen,” she added.
Chariot walked over to the counter and looked on the map to find her site. She nodded. “Thank you.”
“You are welcome,” Rose responded. “Now, do you need some help setting up?” she asked, even though she wasn’t sure she knew how to put up a tent. “I helped a group of Scouts last summer,” she recalled. “I could at least hammer in a few stakes for you.”
Chariot shook her head. “No, I know how to do it,” she replied. She turned to Ms. Lou Ellen who was still sitting at the table. “Thank you so much for the breakfast. I’m real glad to meet you.”
Ms. Lou Ellen smiled. “The pleasure is all mine and I look forward to more chats while you’re here.”
Chariot looked away and nodded. “I’ll just go over and set up then,” she announced.
“I’ll let Rhonda know where you are when she arrives. Although I expect you’ll hear her when she and Lucas drive up.”
Chariot looked a bit confused.
“The motorcycles,” Rose explained.
Then the young woman nodded. “Oh, right,” and suddenly she turned pale.
“Are you okay?” Rose asked, noticing the reaction, wondering what had just caused the young woman to suddenly appear so frightened.
Chariot simply nodded and walked out the door.
The two women watched as she got into her car and drove past the office and over to the tent site.
“She’s pregnant,” Ms. Lou Ellen blurted out once they saw Chariot heading down the driveway.
“Now, what makes you think that?” Rose asked. She filled in the site placement in the book with a little yellow occupied tag, closed it, and set it back near the phone.
“It’s obvious, dear. The tears, the mention of trouble, the sleeping on the ground.” Ms. Lou Ellen had gotten up from her seat at the table and was looking out the window on the front door.
“What?” Rose asked.
“The hormones, the trouble …” Ms. Lou Ellen said, saying the last word with a lot of expression.
“No, what do you mean about sleeping on the ground? What does that have to do with being pregnant?” Rose asked.
“She wants to be closer to the earth, Mother Earth,” Ms. Lou Ellen replied, as if what she was implying made perfect sense. She turned to look at her friend.
By the surprised look on her face, it was clear that Rose didn’t get what the older woman was saying.
“Dear, pregnancy calls forth a woman’s natural tendencies.” She placed her hand over her heart.
“To sleep on the ground?” Rose asked.
“To connect with the matern
al rootedness that reaches up from the soil and gives life to all things growing,” Ms. Lou Ellen replied, sounding as if she was making complete sense. She turned back to the window.
Rose rolled her eyes and shook her head. “Well, I guess that explains why I never wanted to camp in a tent. I have no maternal tendencies. The only earthly rootedness I wanted to connect to was maybe a picnic on a blanket on the ground and even then I prefer a table.”
“You will make a fine mother,” Ms. Lou Ellen said and it was so out of the blue that it caught Rose off guard.
Ms. Lou Ellen noticed the silence and turned to see her friend staring at her. “What?” she asked.
“Why would you say that?” Rose asked.
The older woman shrugged. “Because it’s true,” she replied.
“Ms. Lou Ellen, I don’t intend to have children,” Rose said. “I’m almost forty-three years old,” she added.
“Yes,” her friend agreed. “At first, it startled me, too. And then Roland Harvey’s wife got pregnant. She’s forty-five and then I couldn’t dispute what I read in the charts. My horoscope is quite clear that a baby is coming to join us at Shady Grove. It only makes sense that the message refers to you and Thomas. And I would say it’s getting close to time. And when it does happen, you will see exactly what I mean about communing with the earth.”
Rose shook her head. “Even if I believed your crazy astrological readings, why couldn’t it just be referring to our newest camper?” she asked. “I mean if, in fact, she’s pregnant.”
Ms. Lou Ellen opened the door to head back to her cabin. “It clearly stated that this birth involves someone close to me. Rhonda messed herself up years ago. As far as we know, she isn’t able to bear children. Mary is too old and too cranky to be a mother. And I don’t have any other women that I consider close. I’ve worked on this thing until I have it figured it out. You are the only one. You are the chosen one. You will bring the new life to our family.”
And she accentuated the end of the sentence with a strong nod of her head and left Rose standing in the midst of a prophecy that she neither welcomed nor understood.
SIX
