Devil's Fork

by Jesse Jacobson

  “Do you remember anything at all about… you know… what happened?” she asked.

  “Not a lot,” I said. “Bits and pieces.”

  Her eyes dimmed.

  “Thanks for agreeing to meet me,” I continued.

  “Of course,” she replied, “but you didn’t have to come all this way.”

  “I wanted to,” I lied. “ToeJam said it was the least I could do since you and your father paid all my deductibles and my out-of-pocket medical expenses. I don’t know what I would have done without you. I wanted to go see your father and thank him in person but I found out…”

  “He’s in jail,” she finished, “For another five years. He’s in minimum security—that’s the good news. Since he created an illegal technology then tried to hide his initial contact with a terrorist organization, I think he got off lucky. To his credit, he told the truth, finally, and fully cooperated.”

  “That’s good,” I said. “He’s a fine man.”

  She started laughing.

  “Why are you laughing?” I asked.

  “Because you hated each other,” she said.

  “We did?”

  She nodded. Her smile was angelic. It wasn’t hard to see why Toe thought I was head over heels for her.

  “ToeJam thought your dad would get off because he cooperated with the feds.”

  She shook her head, “He was greedy. He developed an illegal technology and tried hide it, but the coverup ended up biting him in the ass. I think he got off lucky with a huge fine and minimal prison time.”

  I nodded, “So they caught the guys that did this?”

  “They caught everyone except the mastermind of the operation, a guy named Anjy Kousa. He got away,” she said. “It turns out that Kevin was the one who’d been feeding the Syrian terrorist cell information about my father’s technology. Kevin told them all about the rafting trip. He got the details of the trip from hacking the calendar on my phone, the bastard. He’s the reason the shooter knew where to find us.”

  “Kevin?” I said. “Who’s Kevin?”

  “My ex? I told you all about him, but I don’t expect you to remember.”

  Her ex? It jogged my memory. He was a hot shot who dated Jeannie and when things went bad, began to stalk her.

  “I do remember,” I told her. “He almost caused you to have a nervous breakdown. He was working with the terrorist cell?”

  Her eyes brightened. “That’s right. They helped him get the job at my dad’s firm. They planted him there. They had been working on this for months. He never loved me at all. He was only using me.”

  “I’m sorry Jeannie,” I said. “That’s rough.”

  “And all this time I thought my dad disliked him because he was Middle Eastern,” she said. “As it turns out, he had suspicions about Kevin toward the end but kept them from me. My dad knew he was up to no good—he just didn’t know what it was.”

  “Where is Kevin now?”

  “No one knows. He was swooped up by Homeland Security shortly after we were saved. I don’t know what happened to him and I don’t care. As far as I’m concerned, I hope he gets what he deserves.”

  I’m sure he will, I thought.

  “So, how are things going with you and Julie?” she continued.

  “Julie?”

  “Your girlfriend, Julie,” she repeated. “Toe said she was there when you woke and never left your side.”

  “Oh yeah, Julie,” I acknowledged. “A lot has happened. I didn’t remember her, either. That pissed her off. After about a month, she left me for an ex-boyfriend who had just gotten back into town. Harold, I think his name was. That only lasted a while, though.”

  “Hardy?” she corrected. “His name was Hardy.”

  “Yeah, that’s it. How did you know?”

  “You told me the story about how you and Julie met,” she said. “You saved her from a guy that was hitting her.”

  “Oh… I don’t remember it.”

  “You said she left you for Hardy for a while,” she noted. “What does that mean?”

  “Oh yeah, she’s with ToeJam now,” I said.

  “ToeJam? And Julie? Together?”

  I smiled, “Yep, going on four months now.”

  “How does that make you feel?”

  “It makes me happy. They make a great couple and it’s obvious they love each other. I had almost no memory of Julie. I’ve never seen Toe happier. She quit smoking weed and has a new circle of friends… with Toe. They seemed to have settled into a groove. He’s going to pop the question to her on her birthday next month.”

  Jeannie smiled. When I saw her incredible smile, I had a brief memory flash. Months ago, I kept getting a vision of me standing with a beautiful woman in the moonlight near a riverbank. I was kissing a gorgeous woman… it was Jeannie. Damn, how could I possibly forget?

  “I have a question.”

  “Sure,” she said.

  “I know you and I had just met, but ToeJam told me there was… something…”

  “What?” she said as my sentence faded.

  “Something developing between… us,” I continued. “You and I. Something…”

  “Romantic?” she finished.

  I nodded.

  “I’d like to think so,” she said. “Certainly, it was true from my point of view.”

  “Did we ever…? I mean did you and I ever…?”

  “No,” she said. “We talked a lot… shared… a lot. We kissed.”

  It was her.

  “In the moonlight by the river?”

  She perked up, “You remember?”

  I nodded, “A little, yes. It’s a very pleasant memory. It gave me comfort at a time when I needed it.”

  I smiled at her. She smiled back. Her smile made me warm all over.

  “I was developing feelings for you,” she went on. “And it felt like you were developing feelings for me, but we were in the middle of a shit storm, and...”

  “Dodging bullets while navigating dangerous rapids makes a relationship development somewhat of a challenge?”

  She chuckled, “It does. And when you woke up in the hospital, you didn’t remember me at all. I was pretty traumatized by the whole event as well. My parents whisked me away back home to Chicago…”

  “Chicago?” I said. “I remember that, too. You were going to quit your job in Chicago and move to L.A.”

  Her mouth gaped open, “You do remember.”

  “You Got Mail,” I said.

  “Very good,” she beamed.

  “It just came to me,” I said, “just this second when you mentioned Chicago. I remember something else…”

  “Tell me,” she said.

  “Maybe I should just shut up,” I replied.

  “You can’t leave that hanging, buster. Give it up.”

  I shrugged and grinned; my face turned a little red.

  “Ok. We were in a boat, just you and I, talking. You were wet. You got up to change clothes, and I saw you… naked… for a few seconds.”

  She blushed then smiled, “I knew you peeked. I saw you naked too… mostly.”

  I remember that now, too. I was teasing her.

  I shrugged, “Turnabout is fair play.”

  “That’s amazing. Maybe you’ll fully recover your memory someday.”

  I nodded, “I hope so. I’d like to remember more about you. Did I see you naked any more times?”

  “No,” she blushed. “That one time only.”

  “Damn. If you don’t mind my saying so,” I continued, “this feels right… sitting here with you. I feel like I’ve known you for many years.”

  “Two days,” she said. “It was only two days, but I know what you mean. I feel the same.”

  “So, if you don’t mind my asking, if we made such a connection, why didn’t you come see me more?”

  The smile left her face, “I came to see you twice. The first time, you didn’t remember me, and it devastated me. Your doctors told me you may never regain your memory.
They also told me you had a long, painful and complicated recovery process ahead of you. When I came back the next day, I saw Julie in the room with you. She was sitting on the bed, leaning over you, stroking your hair and kissing you. That crushed me. I left before you saw me. I didn’t want to complicate things for you.”

  “I remember Julie being there,” I said, “but I didn’t remember much about her. She told me she was my girlfriend, and I believed her. I knew almost right away I had no real feelings for her. I’m sorry you saw that.”

  “Me too. At any rate, you’d saved my life, and I felt responsible for you being in the hospital in the first place…”

  “It wasn’t your fault,” I interrupted.

  “I know that, but still, if I had not been on that trip, you would have not had to go through this whole ordeal. I saw Julie with you and at that moment, you looked like a loving couple. It made no sense for me to upend the apple cart and add to the long, horrible rehabilitation facing you. So, I bowed out.”

  “I understand.”

  “So, what are you doing next?” she asked. “Toe told me you can’t work as a guide any longer.”

  “That’s right,” I told her. “My shoulder will never be the same. My leg is better but the hill-climbing on those long hikes and the pressure I need to put on it daily would not be good for it.”

  “So, what will you do?”

  I shrugged, “I don’t know… yet.”

  “Do you have family?” she asked me.

  “Just Toe, my twin brother from another mother. I was an only child. My parents are both gone.”

  “I’m sorry to hear that,” she said. “I have an idea, though… if you’re open to new ideas.”

  “I’m an open book. Tell me.”

  “My new job…”

  “Marketing,” I interjected, snapping my fingers, “You’re in marketing. I remember…”

  She smiled, “Yes, right. My new job is also marketing… for a fashion company, and it so happens we have a new line of men’s outdoor clothing coming out next fall. We might have a spot for you.”

  “I know nothing about clothes,” I told her.

  “Do you know how to put them on?” she asked me.

  I nodded, “That I can handle. Why?”

  “Because I see you still have that gorgeous body,” she said. “I think you’d be a great male model for our new outdoor line.”

  I laughed, “Me? A model? Like a magazine model?”

  She nodded, “Magazines, catalogs, websites, posters, billboards…”

  “Are you serious? Who’d hire me for that?”

  “I would,” she said. “I’m the decision-maker. It’s my project.”

  “You’re kidding.”

  “Not in the least. I think you’d be fantastic. Your body is perfect and you look all outdoorsy already. The pay would be great.”

  “Would I have to move out here?”

  “Yep. Our offices are right here in Santa Monica.”

  “I love Santa Monica. This place is so vibrant, and the ocean is right here. I’ve always wanted to parasail.”

  “Won’t you miss ToeJam?”

  “Yes,” I said, “but he has his job and he has Julie now. I’m a fifth wheel… a charity case.”

  “Toe doesn’t feel that way.”

  “No, but I do. Do you think you could help me find an apartment?”

  “I was thinking… you could… you know… stay with me until you get settled,” she said.

  “Stay here… in L.A., with you?”

  “Yep. I live in an apartment right here at the 3rd Street Promenade. I have a spare bedroom with a full bath attached. Everything you’d want is within walking distance. The Santa Monica Pier is right across the street. You can ride into work with me. We can look for apartments on the weekends. Do you have furniture?”

  “Nothing I’d care to bring?” I explained.

  “It’s just as well,” she noted. “I don’t think bargain basement cabin furniture fits the Santa Monica lifestyle. We’ll shop for that, too. I think we can come up with a signing bonus to get you started on everything you need.”

  The gesture stunned me, “Jeannie, that’s the most generous thing anyone has ever offered me… at least that I remember. You don’t have to do this.”

  “I’m aware I’m under no obligation,” she said. “So, are you in or not?”

  “I’m in.”

  “Don’t you want to think about it?”

  “Hmmm, let me see. The smartest, most beautiful woman I’ve ever met wants me to move in with her and pay me a lot of money to put on and take off clothes. So, I could do that, or I could go back to my one-room cabin where I will soon be evicted because I have no job? So… your right, that’s quite the dilemma. Maybe I’ll think about it for a couple of months.”

  She chuckled, “I see your point, but just so we’re clear, we will be shopping for apartments. This living arrangement is temporary—just until you get on your feet. You and I have a lot of getting-to-know-each-other time ahead of us. Clear?”

  “Very clear,” I said.

  Twenty minutes later, Jeannie and I were walking along the Santa Monica Pier eating ice cream cones. The hustle and bustle of hundreds of people walking alongside us was so different from what I was used to, but at that moment, I realized the woman standing beside me was everything I wanted in life.

  She saw me looking at her, “What’s wrong? Do I have ice cream on my face?”

  “No, your face is perfect. I have a question.”

  “Ok, let’s hear it.”

  “This invitation to stay with you—does it require… sex?”

  She shrugged, “No, of course not. I would never… Wait. Hold on a second. Do you have money for rent?”

  “No.”

  “Then… yes it will require sex, and I have a nice apartment, so it better be good sex. Is that going to be a problem?”

  I shrugged, “No, but I was hoping we’d be… you know, friends first.”

  She paused and looked deeply into my eyes.

  “You told me you were going to change,” she said.

  “I did?”

  She nodded, “I’ll tell you what. We’ll make out a contract for the sex. You can pay up later, that’s if we get along. Deal?”

  I smiled, “Deal.”

  I extended my hand, an invitation to shake hands, “Friends then?”

  She laughed, “Sure,” she said, shaking my hand. “Why not?”

  Rainhorse

  Jesse Jacobson

  Chapter 1

  Excerpt from Rainhorse:

  Author’s note: below is a sample chapter from my book Rainhorse. If you haven’t read it, I hope you’ll give it a try.

  Rainhorse sighed and shook his head as he drove through the reservation. It had been many, many years since he’d been there. The res now looked like the land that time forgot: run down, dilapidated buildings; rusted, abandoned cars; vacant businesses—it was a sad sight indeed. At its best the Ft. Peck Indian Reservation was a depressing place, but this . . .

  Rainhorse entered the truck stop diner about four o’clock, the same time he planned to be there the following day when he expected Tony Apollo and HRT to meet there. The diner looked as derelict as any building he had seen in years. It would never be allowed to stay open outside the reservation. If the county didn’t condemn the building the Health Department would shut them down for certain. Inside the reservation, however, few white man rules applied.

  The outside of the building looked as though it hadn’t been painted since Sitting Bull roamed these very parts. On the inside, Rainhorse guessed that a third of the lights were burned out. The leather seats in the booths were faded, cracked and patched over with silver duct tape. The tables were badly worn, stained and chipped.

  There were eight other patrons in the diner, two groups of two in booths, and four men sitting individually at the counter. It seemed as though the troubles of the reservation was reflected in the mood of the diner’s
patrons and employees. No one was smiling, no one laughing. In fact, almost no one was even talking to each other. All faces he could see looked hopeless, dour, lifeless. Behind the counter was a window leading to the kitchen. He could see two Sioux short-order cooks moving around, heads down.

  He scanned the room and chose the booth he believed Tony Apollo and HRT would want to sit at. The booth he chose faced perpendicular to the door so both men could easily see the entrance. It was also positioned adjacent to a hallway leading to a back exit, just in case one or both men didn’t care to meet someone who might come through the entrance.

  The patron before him had left their newspaper folded on the table. He unfolded the Sheridan County Newspaper and read the headline, ‘Ft. Peck Farmer’s Market Expected to Draw Over One Thousand People.’

  The big annual event was to be held this Saturday and Sunday in Wolf Point, the largest town on the reservation. He smiled at the idea the biggest news in town was an upcoming farmer’s market.

  A young Sioux woman dressed in jeans and a blue t-shirt approached him with a menu. She could not have been more than twenty, Rainhorse thought, but her expression was crestfallen, her skin flaccid and pale. There were dark circles under her cold and lifeless-looking eyes. Her name badge read “Ska,” which Rainhorse knew to mean “bird.”

  She handed Rainhorse a menu. He glanced at the selections as the young woman robotically poured a glass of water.

  “What is good to eat, Ska?” he asked.

  “Lasagna at Roma’s Italian in Plentywood,” she replied, without looking up. The young woman’s arms were so thin they looked like little more than flesh stretched over bone. The skin on her lips looked dried and cracked. Dehydration, he wondered?

  “No, I mean, what is good . . . here?” Rainhorse asked.

  “Nothing,” Ska replied.

  “Nothing?” Rainhorse repeated. “You work here but can recommend nothing at all?”

  “I can recommend plenty of items,” she replied, “But none of them are good.”

  “I take it you are considered a model employee,” Rainhorse jibed.

  She shrugged, making eye contact with him for the first time, “I could lie to you, if you want. Some men like that.”