by Imani King
"I know," I replied, taking a bite of the oatmeal and forcing myself to swallow. "I'm just not very hungry these days."
We chatted while I ate and she asked if I'd met anyone in River Bend yet. I told her about Amber from the grocery store – and about the man with the black stallion.
"Oh, really, you ran into Dallas Corbett? Well don't worry, Tia, we're not all like that here."
I nodded. "Yeah, that's what Amber said."
I could tell my great-aunt wanted desperately to help, but what could she say? What could anyone say? I was in the car when it crashed, escaping with only a few scratches and a lot of bruising. My parents had not been so lucky. It had been four weeks since their joint funeral and three weeks since I found out that they had been in so much debt that there was nothing left for their only child.
"Well," Jenny said, "feel free to take the car out today if you need to. We can cook dinner together again if you like?"
I forced my mouth into a shape that I hoped bore resemblance to a smile. "Yes, that would be nice."
An hour or so later, after John and Jenny had both gone to work, I grabbed the car keys and headed into town after checking out recipes online. Cooking dinner used to be something I did with my mother, and since arriving in River Bend it had been the only thing that made me feel even remotely human.
I drove in silence, because I hadn't been able to listen to music since that day. I don't know why. There had been a particular song playing on the radio when the car began to slide off the road, and part of me was terrified of hearing it again, of being forced back into a moment I knew I was never really going to escape. Also, music used to make me happy, and feeling happy just wasn't possible for me, not then.
Halfway to the grocery store, I spotted what I at first thought was a large brown dog standing on the edge of the winding rural road that led into the center of River Bend. When I got closer I realized it was a small cow – and it was wandering right out in front of me. I slammed on the brakes and pulled over, my heart suddenly thumping in my chest, and jumped out of the car.
"Hey!" I shouted at the animal, trying to scare it out of harm's way. It ignored me. It was then that I noticed a small gap in the wire fence that ran parallel to the road. On the other side of the fence were more cows, and one in particular, mooing anxiously as it watched the scene unfold. It hit me then that the smaller cow must have been a baby. I approached the creature and tried to push it, but it was like trying to push a small truck.
"Get!" I yelled, as the sound of a car approaching filled my ears. "Go on! Get away!"
When the animal ignored me once again I waved in the direction of the car to get it to slow down, hoping maybe the driver would stop to help. They didn't. I stood there, at a total loss, trying to figure out what to do. Call the police? What if they shot it? I didn't know how police dealt with escaped cows in small towns. Eventually, I walked over to the fence where the other cows were standing, thinking maybe I could pull it open far enough to allow the escapee to get back in. But as soon as I forced the wire open, one of the cows – probably the mother – suddenly shoved her way past me and made her way over to her baby. And then another cow followed, and another.
"No!" I yelled helplessly. "No! No, cows!"
"They don't speak English, you know."
I whipped around and damn if it wasn't him again. The jerk from Parson's Grocery, Dallas Corbett, sat up on his horse and looking down at me like he was the freakin' King of River Bend.
I stared at him. "Well?! I could use a little help here!"
He nodded. "I can see that."
"They're going to get run over," I screeched, trying one more time to nudge the baby cow off the road. "Don't you care?"
Dallas dismounted his horse and walked towards me. "Of course I care, those are my cattle. What I'm wondering right now is why you're letting them out."
"I'm not," I protested. "I'm not! I was just driving down the road and I saw the – the baby cow. So I stopped and –"
"You saw the what?"
What was this guy's game? "The baby one," I repeated.
"The calf, you mean."
I rolled my eyes. "Sure, if terminology is that important to you – yes, I saw the calf on the road as I was driving by. I'm actually just trying to help, even if that appears to be a concept you might have some difficulty with."
"You've got a funny way of helping."
Did I see the whisper of a smile on his face when he said that? It didn't matter, because I could feel myself getting annoyed.
"Look," I stated, putting my hands on my hips. "I didn't have to stop. I could have just kept driving –"
"Maybe that's what you should have done?"
There was no anger in his voice. If anything he sounded mildly amused. That didn't change the fact that he was being an asshole for no reason – again – and I was definitely done with it. If he wanted to deal with his escaped cows all by himself, I certainly wasn't going to stop him. I marched back to my car and got inside, waiting until the scene was behind me to yell "DICK!" at no one in particular.
I drove the rest of the way into town feeling surprisingly perturbed. Was it the fact that I was in the country? Because I dealt with jerks all the time back in Philly, and it never seemed to bother me as much as it did that day, when that handsome idiot saw fit to throw my helpful gesture back in my face.
It must have been obvious how heated I was, because when I went to the check-out at the grocery store and spotted Amber, chewing gum and inspecting her nails, she immediately asked me if I was OK.
"Yes," I replied testily. "Well, mostly. I ran into that guy again – the one with the black horse."
"Dallas?"
"Yeah, him. One of his cows escaped and I stopped to try and get it off the road. Of course he showed up and acted like I'd let the damn thing out myself!"
Amber smiled knowingly. "What did I tell you? He's River Bend's official asshole. I know he's mega hot, but trust me, it's not worth it."
"It's got nothing to do with how hot he is," I said quickly and, perhaps, a tad defensively.
"Oh?" Amber asked, ringing up the groceries. "Doesn't it?"
"No!" I barked, before relenting. "Sorry, I don't know why I'm snapping at you, it's his fault."
She shrugged and smiled. "Not a problem. Forget about him. Are you still up for the bar on Friday? I'm not going to pretend like this place has some crazy nightlife scene or anything like that but we have fun."
I nodded. "Yes, for sure. I don't know anybody here besides my relatives, it'd be nice to meet a few locals. The friendly ones, I mean."
Amber pulled out her phone and handed it to me. "Give me your number, I'll call you. And what's your name? I don't think you told me when we met."
"Tia."
"Cool. I'll call you, Tia."
I drove slowly on the way home, wary of random livestock on the road. When I got to the place where the calf had been there was no sign of anyone – human or bovine. Dallas Corbett had managed to get his cows back inside the fence and repair it. I caught myself feeling a little deflated about not seeing him, before laughing out loud and telling myself to stop being so ridiculous. You must be getting lonely, girl. Disappointed not to see that arrogant ass? Please.
Those first few weeks in River Bend were hard, and the first few days were the hardest. My great-aunt and great-uncle both had jobs in town so I spent a lot of my time trying to think of excuses to get out of the house – and mostly failing. I did a copious amount of cleaning, which seemed to make Jenny happy. The day I had my second run-in with Dallas I spent the entire afternoon cleaning out the refrigerator, taking everything out piece by piece and wiping it with a wet cloth before cleaning the interior with bleach and putting each item back, minus a few condiments that were well past their sell-by dates.
John came home first and found me in the kitchen, admiring my work. He wasn't a demonstrative or a talkative man, but he had a warm, gentle manner that managed to convey care without hav
ing to state it. I liked him from the start, and I saw in his marriage to Jenny a lot of the quiet tenderness that had existed between my own parents.
"Damn," he exclaimed, poking his head into the fridge. "Jenny's gonna love this." There was a moment of hesitation. "You didn't throw anything out, did you?"
"Just a few condiments," I replied, "they were out of date."
My great-uncle surprised me by going straight to the garbage and fishing the items out, shrugging when he saw the look on my face. "Jenny's a – well, she's a bit of a pack-rat, truth be told. Doesn't like to throw anything out, ever. I'll just wash these and put them back, no harm done."
I stood back and watched him rinse off an old jar of horseradish, some pickled onions and a container of hot sauce I was pretty sure had been in that fridge since the late 90s, but I didn't say anything. And for some reason, it suddenly made me think of my mother. She was always so picky about the kitchen, so house-proud, and I knew she would have been horrified if she could see what John was doing.
When he looked up he saw that I was crying and gave me an awkward hug. I didn't mind the awkwardness. Jenny and John were literally all I had left in the world and I was desperate to feel like I belonged with them, like we were more than strangers thrown together by tragedy.
Jenny walked in on us like that and quickly took over the hugging duties from her husband, patting me on the back and making little sympathetic noises.
"There, there, honey. I know. I wish I could take away your pain, but I can't. No one can. One thing I can tell you, it'll get easier. I've lost people before – not like you, I mean, not like that. But I've lost people. You don't forget – do you John? You never forget. But you learn to live with the burden, you learn to smile again."
"Do you?" I asked, desperately hoping she was telling the truth. "Because it doesn't feel like it."
"You do, sweetie. You do. The thing is, it can't be rushed. Seems like everything can be rushed these days, doesn't it? Well, not grief – I reckon grief might be one of the few things we haven't learned how to rush yet. And we've got you, Tia. I know you don't know us, and we don't know you, but know this – we've got you. No need to worry about that. OK?"
I took a shaky breath and nodded, relieved that someone had finally put words to how odd it felt to be living with people I barely knew.
"Now," she said, smiling at me, "I hear you were spotted on Old Ware Road with Dallas Corbett. Something about some cows? What happened?"
I sighed. "Oh, yeah. That. I was driving into town and there was a baby – uh, a calf in the road. So I stopped to see if I could get it back inside the fence, and when I tried to do that a few more of them got out. Dallas showed up and acted like it was my fault they got out, but the calf was already on the road when I drove by!"
"Boy's not right in the head," John called through from the back porch, where he was enjoying his post-work pipe. "Don't listen to a damn thing he says, Tia. He's got a mean streak in him, that one, and he's best left alone."
For some reason, I wanted to know more about Dallas Corbett. I told myself it was just basic curiosity but the truth is it was more than that, even then. My great-aunt was washing carrots so I took up a spot beside her and started to chop them.
"Why is he like that?" I asked. "Why is he so standoffish? I was honestly just trying to make sure the calf didn't get run over."
"I'm not sure, dear. Couple people in town say he's all messed up – maybe he decided to come up here to the middle of nowhere to live the rest of his life in peace? If it's true – and I don't know if it is – then I'm grateful for his service. But there's no reason to treat people badly, is there? And that horse of his, good Lord. If you think people are scared of Dallas, wait until you see how they react to that stallion."
I scooped up a handful of chopped carrots and dumped them into a saucepan before getting started on an onion. "The black horse, right? It didn't seem so mean. I petted it."
"You what?!" John's voice came in from the back deck. "You touched that thing, Tia?"
"Yes," I replied, unsure as to what the big deal was. "It didn't seem mean at all – it just stood there. Until Dallas came up and yelled at both of us."
Jenny fixed me with a look. "Well, I wouldn't go trying your luck with that beast again, Tia. You're lucky it didn't bite your head off."
Early on Friday afternoon, my phone rang. It was Amber from Parson's Grocery, and I was almost pathetically grateful to hear her voice. When she asked if I was coming out with them that night I told her I most definitely was.
"Good. Put something nice on – a dress or a skirt or something – and bring some money for beer."
"Beer?" I asked, feeling my heart sink. "But – I'm underage. When you said 'bar' I thought you meant, um – actually, I'm not sure what I thought but I can't –"
Amber laughed. "Oh, it doesn't matter. My stepbrother is the bartender and my uncle is the bouncer. You won't have any trouble."
"Really? I don't have a fake ID or anything like that."
"Tia, girl, I said it doesn't matter. Are you trying to back out?"
I assured her that the last thing I was trying to do was add another completely uneventful Friday night to my recent collection and she said she'd pick me up at seven. It felt strange, getting ready. All of my make-up and most of my clothes remained sealed in boxes, because the idea of having any reason to get all dolled up just hadn't seemed right to me. It still didn't, but River Bend was proving to be the kind of small town where nothing much ever happened and the truth is I was starting to go a little stir crazy.
Still, it felt strange sitting at the old-fashioned dressing table in John and Jenny's guestroom, applying coats of mascara and making sure the gold highlight on my upper cheekbones wasn't too garish. The last time I'd gone out like that, with friends back home, was before the accident. I caught my own eye in the mirror and then looked away immediately, afraid I'd start crying and ruin my face. It's just a night out, Tia. They would want you to make new friends, to have fun.
I concentrated on the milky-beige lip-gloss I was applying and tried to push all thoughts of my parents out of my mind, as impossible as that was. When Amber arrived and beeped her horn outside I practically ran out the door, throwing an "I will!" over my shoulder when Jenny told me to be careful.
"Oh my GOD!" Amber squealed, when I slid into the passenger's seat. "You look – ugh, you look amazing, Tia. Oh man, I almost regret inviting you now."
I giggled, pleased at the compliment. "Why?"
"Because none of the guys are going to even look at me tonight, that's why. You should have told me you were a total babe."
"Oh please," I replied, playing it down. I'd followed Amber's advice and worn a dress, a pale peach strapless sundress with a drop-waist and a flouncy skirt. It wasn't revealing, but I'm a well-endowed girl and it didn't exactly hide everything.
We chatted on the drive into town. Amber seemed sweet – outgoing and friendly, just like she was when I'd spoken to her at Parson's. She told me she'd been born in River Bend and had graduated high school three years earlier, which made her a little older than me. When I asked if she was going to college she rolled her heavily made-up eyes.
"No. Why would I? I mean, don't get me wrong, I'm sure I sound like some uneducated hick right now but, honestly? This is where I belong. I don't have any ideas about moving to the city or getting a big, fancy job – I just want to be here, with my family and my friends. Nothing wrong with that, is there?"
She was right, there was nothing wrong with it. It just wasn't an opinion I was used to hearing – back in Philadelphia most of my friends had spent our final year of high school readying college applications. I was one of them, until it became clear that there was no money to pay for college and I was going to have to spend a year or two working and saving. After the accident, it just hadn't been on my mind anymore.
"What about you?" Amber asked. "Why are you here, anyway? Are you going to college after the summer?"
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p; I looked out the window and swallowed hard. "I don't know," I replied vaguely. "Maybe. We'll see. Things are kind of up in the air for me right now."
Amber was looking at me, I could feel her eyes on the back of my head. But she didn't push it and before long we were at the bar. I say 'bar' – it was more of a ramshackle wooden warehouse just off River Bend's main street. As soon as we got close to it I could hear the music thumping inside and in spite of myself a little tickle of excitement ran up my spine.
As soon as we got out of the car we were accosted by a trio of girls – Amber's friends. She introduced them to me, one by one. There was Marcy – a brunette with a deep, filthy laugh, and Kayla – a tall, skinny girl with big teeth, and finally Madison – another blonde like Amber, except rounder and seemingly more introverted than her friend.
They were all completely welcoming, giving me those light hugs that us girls give each other when we're newly acquainted, but I knew that sooner or later, one of them was going to ask me why I was in River Bend.
First, though, there was getting into the bar – which was, as Amber promised, surprisingly easy. Her uncle – the bouncer – gave us a little finger wag but didn't even try to stop us strolling in. Inside, it wasn't like any bar I had ever been to before. Taxidermied animal heads lined the walls, sitting uncomfortably with the generic Top-40 music blaring from the speakers. The place was packed, though, and the smell of cheap perfume and testosterone hung in the air.
"Sit down," Amber told us. "I'll get drinks."
So I sat down with the other three girls, feeling like an alien from another planet and waiting for someone to break the silence. I didn't have to wait long. Marcy spotted someone over my shoulder and leaned in conspiratorially.
"Oh my God, Dallas Corbett is here."
Just hearing his name spoken aloud sent an odd thrill through my body, but I refused to turn around and look, preferring instead to pretend that I couldn't care less where Dallas Corbett was.
